#he was in a village full of women and his dad never seemed to be like that or anything

[mbat]

alright i just tried to watch the new avatar show, i usually try and give shows a 3 episode rule to see if i like them or not but i didnt even finish the 2nd episode, it was like... just really boring. it didnt have any... oomph? it didnt even feel like the characters were bonding, they just kinda met eachother and immediately went 'oh were besties forever now!' idk

i dont like to be super critical of media if i dont hate it or anything but it was just underwhelming. hell yeah if you like it though, just not for me

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 23rd

Happy Sunday, folks! I went on a bit of a sportsball kick this week so--enjoy those recs. It’s also @Cap-Ironman rec week this week--I’ll be sharing all of my daily recs later today so look for that, and be sure to follow the tag for everyone’s recs. 

Be sure to comment/kudos! 

~*~ 

Average Avengers Local Chapter 7 of New York City by hetrez

Steve and Tony accidentally start a national do-gooders association and fall in love.

No time for losers by gottalovev

Tony Stark: Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist. Hockey superstar.

(featuring among other things an unexpected trade, learning to get along with new teammates, pining, the Olympics, and a happy ever after)

Ice Ice Baby (The Hockey Fic) by youcancallmearrow

Tony Stark is a star center, sidelined by a slip in sobriety. Steve Rogers is a goalie, suspended for a punch thrown off the ice.

When the two meet, they're trying to get their lives back on track, both off and on the ice. It turns out, the saying is true: A burden shared is a burdened halved. At least until Howard Stark gets involved.

(A get together fic full of fluff, supportive friends, dad Rhodey, and hockey! But if you know nothing about hockey, you'll be fine, because neither does the author.)

Things We Learned at the End of the World by JenTheSweetie

1. Even the apocalypse can't keep people away from Olive Garden

2. Smoothies do not replace conversations

3. Tony has really obvious sex hair

4. Home might be a little different, but that doesn't mean you can't go back

Didn't Catch You Saying Grace by isozyme

Tony’s straight: he always picks women, not men, so he must be. Steve’s gay, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

how much i’ve been touching you by isozyme 

Steve loves Tony, but not enough to listen about the SRA. He loves Sharon, but not enough to stop coming to Tony late at night.

Destiny Deserves Another Chance by KandiSheek

Steve is absolutely starstruck by the pirate who saves his village from destruction. When the mayor offers an omega's hand as a reward for his heroic deed, Steve wants nothing more than to be whisked away towards a better life. Anywhere would be better than here.

He's devastated when the alpha chooses Sunset Bain instead. He never even looks at Steve, which makes sense, considering Steve looks nothing like a proper omega should, what with his height and muscles. It's probably better that he was spared the humiliation. And it's not like Steve has a chance to win the pirate's heart now that he's promised to another.

Or so he thinks.

A High and Lonesome Sound by misslucyjane 

Some nights, Steve still has trouble breathing.

A castaway where no one hears you on a barren isle in a lonely sea by Wolfsheart

A year and a half (give or take a month) after the divorce, Tony is still fighting the residual depression left behind from the way the divorce went down. Having been granted primary custody of their daughter, he's brought Morgan back to live full-time with him in Malibu, and he decided to surprise her with a trip to Disneyland. He lost his 'magic' back when Pepper left, so he doesn't know how magical Disneyland will feel to him, but it'll make Morgan happy, and that's what matters. However, will running into long-time unrequited crush Steve Rogers change all of that?

D-Day: 70 Years Later by Potterwatch97

70 years later, Steve is forced to face a gruesome part of his past. One that he never thought he's live to see.

Tony Stark and the Super Sleeper, or actually, Soldier by RurouniHime 

The one where Steve keeps falling asleep on Tony.

When Hell Freezes Over by KandiSheek

Tony ingests a drug that amps his insecurities up to eleven. It seems like he's extremely susceptible to Steve's opinion specifically, now that he's like this.

Steve has no idea what to make of it. He only knows that trying to take care of Tony without accidentally revealing his feelings for him is going to be virtually impossible.

He does it anyway.

Fever, gettin' higher by RurouniHime

Yeah, okay, Steve Rogers knows what sexual harassment is. Despite his out-of-fashion upbringing, he’s not some backwater Neanderthal, thank you, he gets why it’s bad. He’ll go to bat for anyone who determines they’re the victim of unwelcome advances in the workplace. He’s not devaluing its impact, for god’s sake. 

But the key word here, as he sees it, is ‘unwelcome.’ And that… might not be what this is.

this will destroy you by silkspectred

The screen flashes in front of his eyes. It takes him entire seconds to realize that it’s an incoming call.

Indecent Proposal by sabrecmc 

One million dollars for one night. That could change your life.

Lock Screen by betheflame

Everything was fine.

Steve had everything under control.

Until Tony grabbed his phone while they were in the car, and his world shattered.

“This… this photo,” Tony croaked out. “Am I your lock screen?”

“You were not supposed to see that,” Steve said quickly. He reached for the phone while keeping one hand on the wheel.

“Keep driving please,” Tony said with a tone of calmness that ended up sounding terrifying, “and answer my question.”

Second Hand Mate by Morethancupcake 

"The bandages had been his idea. The long sleeves too. Tony traces it with the tip of his fingers, before securing the tape, keeping the words away, safe, buried with the first man who ever showed him love and support.

'Second hand mate.' "

 The first words his mate will use to talk about him.

Tony waits for it to happen.

Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree by Annie D (scaramouche)

Steve doesn’t mind that Tony doesn’t return his feelings. He just would've preferred if it didn’t come with the side effect of his coughing up flowers and possibly dying.

kings of the city by Areiton 

The Irish mob held Brooklyn.

The Spider held Queens.

And where Tony fits in the city has never been clear...

Sometimes though, he thinks he fits here--at Steve's side.

[traditional-with-a-twist]

Guess Who

masterpost: Pauper with a Golden Crown

for @randowwriter, thank you for enjoying our stories!

No one knew her story. She wasn’t from Tanburun, so she was unlike other refugees that the Lions sheltered. That she was some sort of refugee was certain. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want to go back to wherever she’d come from. 

Really, that was all the Lions needed to know. They welcomed Midori and her son without further questions. 

Midori was charming and playful and quickly grew to be loved. Her son, however, seemed skittish. He was rarely seen. Mukaze often wondered in passing what he got up to, but there were many places in the village for children to hide, so he thought little of it.

At least until one day, Shirayuki came running up to him. “There’s a boy,” she told him urgently. 

“Hmmm?” Mukaze asked, preoccupied with the latest news of Claw of the Sea’s misdeeds.

“In one of the water barrels. He won’t come out,” Shirayuki clarified, wringing her small hands. “What if he’s hurt?”

“In one of the barrels?” Mukaze looked down at her anxious little face. She nodded. Well, having someone messing around in their water supply could be a problem.

“Show me, then.”

Mukaze followed Shirayuki to the corner of the village where they kept the empty rain barrels, waiting to be used. That was a relief. A small enough child could probably drown in a full one.

She stood on tip-toe and lifted the lid of the barrel in the furthest corner just enough for her to peer into it. “I brought my dad,” she informed the inside of the barrel. “If you’re hurt, he can get you out.”

There was no response. Mukaze frowned. He stepped over to Shirayuki and lifted the lid all the way. 

All he could see was a mess of spiky black hair and a pair of surprisingly cat-like golden eyes staring up at him, but it was enough to identify Midori’s son. The boy hunched deeper into the barrel, cringing away from the light. Mukaze wouldn’t have thought a boy of his age could make himself that small.

“Is he alright?” Shirayuki whispered, in that completely audible way children had. 

“Hmmm.” Mukaze didn’t think he’d been told where Midori would be working today. Rather than settle into one trade like many of the women, she usually moved from task to task, unusually adept at all of them. He eyed what he could see of the boy. He didn’t look injured or ill. “Best to leave him be,” he decided. “Come on, Shirayuki.”

She kept looking over her shoulder as they walked away, so he put his hand on her back to keep her moving in the right direction. 

“Do you know who he was?” Shirayuki asked.

“Midori’s son. They came here a few weeks ago.”

“I remember.” Shirayuki furrowed her brow. “What’s his name?”

Mukaze shrugged.

****

For many weeks after that, Mukaze often caught Shirayuki peering into barrels at odd hours of the day.

When she found who she was looking for, she always had the same thing to say: “I’m Shirayuki. What’s your name?”

She never got any answer that Mukaze could hear. 

[the-letter-horror-lover]

The Chibi Matchmakers by Tiger-chan

Anime » Naruto Rated: T, English, Humor & Romance, Naruto U., Sasuke U., Boruto U., Mitsuki, Words: 21k+, Favs: 18, Follows: 17, Published: Aug 18, 2020 Updated: Dec 17, 2020

2Chapter 1: Telling Sarada

"Neh, Sarada," Boruto grumbled one day while their team was out to lunch without their Sensei. Given that the Uchiha sat across from her had her mouth full, she merely grunted her acknowledgement. Mitsuki sat next to him and he paused his next bite as Boruto did not continue straight away and was simply staring at the food in front of him.

Sarada put her utensil down and simply waited. It was obvious that whatever her blond teammate had to say, it was serious enough that he was having a hard time talking about it. Or at the very least was putting thoughts into his words before he just said them.

"Do you-" He cut off, the hand holding his chopsticks flexing. "Do you think your mom is happy? With your dad?"

"Of course she is!" Sarada snapped as she glared daggers into her teammate. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

If tones could kill a person, Boruto was sure that he would be dead where he sat. However, he couldn't forget the look that their fathers had shared together, and the loneliness - that he was now more aware of than ever before - in his mother's eyes when she looked at the Hokage. He wondered if it was the same for Sarada's mother. Was the pink haired Uchiha aware of the two men's feelings?

"My mom…" Boruto started, not really sure how to explain what he doesn't entirely understand himself. "There is a look in her eyes that I've started noticing now that Sasuke-san has returned home and Dad spends even less time at home now than before, which is pretty impossible. As we get older, there are things that I'm starting to notice that I didn't before. Mom has a sad, lonely look whenever she sees our dads together. So, I was wondering if your mom ever seemed lonely. After all, she has been with our dads the longest so I'm sure she's watched them longer than even mom."

Boruto paused for a moment before putting his utensils down and rubbing one hand over his face. Without him wanting to, his mind turned to when he had been in the past. He knew that both women had harbored feelings since they were children for each respectful male, but how much of those feelings were real versus each adult doing what they thought was expected? Even back then, his dad had been hyper focused on his rogue teammate.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, we exist because our parents hooked up, but are they really happy as things are," Boruto asked.

Sarada shared a frown with Mitsuki as she contemplated the Blonde's words. Such thoughts had often plagued the young Uchiha's own thoughts. While their situations were different, they were similar in many ways. While Boruto's father was in the village, she was aware that the Hokage was rarely home. So in many ways, while her own father was never home, at least he had the physical distance that prevented her from seeing him. Even she questioned whether or not her father actually loved her mother or not. When she had asked him, he had simply stated that they did their duty to each other as she existed.

"Boruto," Mitsuki spoke up, his voice low and soft, almost like he was speaking to a wounded animal. "Where did these thoughts start from?"

The blonde glanced up, for some reason surprised that his teammate had joined the conversation. Then he glanced back at his plate, his face flushing as he bit his lower lip nervously.

"... I-I don't know," Boruto stumbled over his words. "It's just something I'm becoming more aware of, how people interact with one another. How they look at someone. I've learned that sometimes words or thoughts don't always need to be vocalized. That sometimes, it's the things that aren't said out loud that say the most."

"What did you see, Boruto?"

As he twisted his hands in the napkin in his lap. For some reason, he was nervous vocalising what he had seen on the Hokage Tower roof. Glancing around him, Boruto noticed that several people at tables around them were doing their best to eavesdrop without being overly obvious. So he shook his head.

"Not here. Let's go somewhere else."

He was thankful when both of his teammates agreed, both already moving to pay as the food was forgotten.

A few hours later found Team 7 at one of the training grounds above the Hokage Monument. There, the uzumaki child told his teammate of what he had seen in the past and of the things he noticed upon his return.

Finally, with Mitsuki's help, he was able to drag out of Sarada, that yes, she believed her mother to be lonely. How could Sakura not be when her husband was always away? Sarada's feelings about her father felt as complicated as ever. She had always wondered if her father loved her and her mother. After having spent time with him, she still has a hard time understanding what older Uchiha thought.

"It's decided then," Sarada exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "We need to gather more information."

"Step 1! Discover how happy your parents are in their circumstances," Mitsuki stated, raising a finger to keep track of the steps.

"Step 2! Break them up if they're unhappy," Boruto followed up, holding 2 fingers.

"Step 3, find new partners for our moms," Sarada agreed.

Each genin stretched out a hand, one on top of the other.

"Let's do this!"

Thus began Operation: divide and conquer!

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2 - How to begin?

So, it seems that I like to bounce POVS while remaining in third person. I tried to make it clear whose thoughts belonged to who, but apparently, I'm bad at that so let me know how that goes. In the mean time, enjoy!

Discover how happy their parents were in their circumstances….

A few days had passed since they had made that first step decision however they realized they weren't entirely sure about how to even confirm or deny the situation. After all, it didn't entirely feel like it was possible to just walk up to one of their mothers and ask how they felt in regards to their fathers relationships. This was a subject that he had no experience with so he didn't know how to bring it up to his mother.

"Dammit! I don't know what to do!"

Boruto ran his fingers through his hair in frustration before falling onto his back to look up at the blue sky. He found himself alone that afternoon as Sarada and Mitsuki had plans with their respective parental units. After doing his chores, he had decided to go for a walk before discovering a nice shaded area with a slope where he could lay and cloud watch.

"You know, I'm pretty sure Hinata-chan would wash your mouth out with soap if she heard you say that," a voice called out to him.

Tensing, Boruto tilted his head backwards and he was forced to roll over his stomach to look at the speaker. "Kiba-san!"

"Yo!" The adult gave a small salute with a grin before working forward to join the genin under the shade. Once seated, the brunette leaned back to look up at the few white clouds in the sky. "What's up, kid? Seems like you've got some things on your mind."

Being reminded of his current frustration, the blonde groaned again, falling back onto his back. Was it even safe to confide in the adult? Boruto knew that Inuzuka had been on a team with his mom, along with Shino-sensei, which meant that the two men would probably understand his mother best. That being said, how could he be sure that the dog lover wouldn't try to end things and prove a thorn in their plans. But….. maybe his perspective would be useful.

"Neh, kiba-san," Boruto started, his tone uncertain. "How do you approach the subject with someone about whether or not that person is really happy?" As he asked his question, his blue eyes glanced over to judge his reaction.

For a split second, Kiba looked like he got suckered punched in the gut before he wiped his expression and the smile returned. Though Boruto noticed that it seemed a bit forced compared to before. However, Boruto watched as the older man crossed his arms, one hand stroked his beard. Kiba even turned his eyes towards the sky as he contemplated the child's question. At least the Blonde was being taken seriously. That was nice.

"I think that depends on the situation," Kiba answered, turning his gaze back to Boruto and blue eyes returned to the sky above him. "Why are you questioning if this person is happy?"

Boruto didn't answer right away. If this went wrong, all of Team 7's plans would go up in smoke. However, he could no longer keep things to himself.

"It's in her eyes," Boruto grumbled, not able to look the adult in the eyes. "It's something I've always seen in mom's eyes when she thinks no one is looking. I never understood what emotion it was that I was seeing, but I think I understand now after my last adventure with Sasuke-san."

Since the boy didn't look at him, Boruto missed Kiba's reaction when he revealed who he was talking about Hinata. Kiba's eyes narrowed with a seriousness that rarely reared its head. His left hand tightened into a fist, his nails digging into his palm even as old feelings rolled through him. Inuzuka internally admitted that he still felt far too much in regards to the Hyuuga girl even though he had done his best to bury and kill whatever he had felt for her, but knew he needed to keep his calm if he wanted to understand the Uzumaki child.

When the child seemed as though he wouldn't continue, Kiba prompted him once he was sure his voice wouldn't falter. "What is it you see in Hinata-chan's eyes?"

Blue eyes shifted from the sky to Kiba's. There was a small pause before Boruto answered confidently. "Loneliness."

Sighing, the blonde sat up while Kiba processed the information. Boruto crossed his legs and looked at the diamond in the center of his hand. "I've come to understand what loneliness and sadness looks like. I've come to understand that even if you can't read a person's expression, their eyes will almost always tell you what their face won't. You just have to be willing to look."

The two ninjas sat quietly for several minutes, each processing their own thoughts.

"I want mom to be happy," Boruto said softly. "And I don't think my dad does. How can he when he's never around?"

Boruto found himself surprised when Kiba reached over and ruffled up his hair with a grin on his face. "I guess even you are growing up huh," the older male mused. "Listen kid, there are some subjects that are never easy to approach, much less even bring up. Especially when you are a kid. The best thing you can do is be straight forward and approach an adult that you trust, gather up the courage, and just say the words in your heart. Don't worry too much, Boruto. Your mom is stronger than she looks. I'll see about checking in on her for you to see if I can help out."

Kiba kept his chuckle to himself as he saw the kid look at him with a calculating expression on. He could almost see Naruto reflected back on him for a moment, but this particular expression, Kiba had seen most often on the Hyuuga girl. If he didn't know any better, he would almost think that the kid was coming up with a plan that the Chuunin was afraid he would regret later. Then, the blonde child grinned at him with gratitude, and Kiba saw all Naruto again.

"Thanks Kiba!"

Standing up, Boruto stretched before resting his hands on his hips. "I'll check in with you later then for a status report! Good luck! I'm sure you know mom can be a hard nut to crack!"

Before Kiba could agree, the child was already bouncing off to whatever was next on his agenda for the day and the adult chuckled to himself as he stood. "Well then, let's go see Hinata!"

So, I discovered in this last week that I seem to much better at writing flourishing moments that exist in what isn't spoken out loud. So to write a flushed out story, is actually quite terrifying lol That being said, I've decided that it's going to be a Kiba/Hinata, Sakura/Rock Lee, and Sasuke/Naruto. I'm more than happy to accept any ideas or prompts you want to see flushed outs. Please leave thoughts, feedback, etc. Your encouragements have been so helpful. See you guys next time!

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3: Sarada's decision

They had decided that they were to verify how her parents felt about each other. Sarada wasn't sure how to go about doing that but she recalled that Boruto had seen it and their father's eyes when they looked at each other. So she figured that perhaps she had some time or the perfect opportunity rather to see if that was true for her parents as they were getting together for an afternoon picnic at her insistence. Sarada knew that it was one of the few days off her mother had from the hospital and Sarada also knew that her father would be home so she hoped to rope him in.

The night before, Sarada had managed to get the agreement for attendance from both parents so she woke early to make sandwiches for lunch. As she worked in the kitchen, she hummed to herself with quiet excitement. Afterall, she couldn't remember the last time they had a picnic as a family. The genin started the coffee pot and started preparations to make BLT. Though, She tried to move quietly as her father was asleep on the couch. The young Uchiha paused, her dark eyes swinging to look at the back of the couch. It had never occurred to her before. Perhaps it was strange that her father slept on the couch instead of joining her mother in the room. Sarada had always assumed it was because her father always came home late and didn't want to disturb his wife.

How many times had her parents shared the same bed outside of missions?

Shaking her head, she continued about her business. Just as she finished packing the sandwiches, Sarada heard movement from the couch. Glancing over at her father, she briefly watched as he rubbed his hand over his face. In a way, it really was unfair how well put together her father looked when he first woke compared to her. Sarada felt like she always looked like death warmed up with her hair lopsided to give her crazy bed head. However, she could see the shadows in his eye that betrayed his distress from whatever he had been dreaming of.

"Morning papa" Sarada exclaimed as she turned back to her duty.

"Hn."

Smiling, she listened as he got up and began to fill sandwich bags with chips.

Couple hours later, found the Uchiha family sitting at a park on a blanket with their early lunch half eaten. Sakura and Sarada had done most of the talking while Sasuke mostly sat quietly, only interjecting to ask clarifying questions. Sarada admitted that it felt nice when her father did speak. It felt like he was giving her his full attention and he had a small smile on his face which serves to make his expression almost gentle.

However, she could see what Boruto meant. The sadness in Sakura's eyes when Sasuke didn't respond the way she wanted, or the way Sasuke oh-so subtly moved away from his wife's touch. While her parents spoke to each other (or rather Sakura spoke to Sasuke), Sarada took the time to study the ninja in front of her.

Sasuke Uchiha, last of his line until her. Much of his history was hidden from public view, but after Boruto's trip to the past, she knew that her father had spent much of his life away from Konoha. He had said that she was proof of their feelings, but Sarada was old enough to understand that could mean many different things. She noticed that while he looked at her gently, his face seemed to adopt a more indifferent expression when responding to Sakura.

When she shifted the subject to include the Hokage, Sarada watched with interest as her father's eyes and expression changed as her mother shared stories of the Hokage's 'idiocy'. Which, Sarada was happy to share stories that compared the blonde man to his son. However, what was different was Sasuke would chuckle occasionally. He seemed content to sit under the tree and talk about the blond father-son duo. She had never seen her father look, dare she say, relaxed and the affection was clear on his usually stoic face.

Turning her eyes to her mother, Sarada frowned for a moment as her parents continued to talk. The young Uchiha knew that her mother was attractive, although she would argue the pinkette was most beautiful with her hair grown out versus the short length her mother currently wore it at. However, if Sarada looked carefully past the smile on the older woman's face, she could see the whispers of grief, insecurity, and longing in the lines that she was sure wasn't there before.

Now that she thought about it, why was her mother so docile around her father? Sarada knew the pinkette to have a fierce temper and was never one to be pushed around, especially within the hospital walls. In a way, it was almost like Sakura had split personalities… Sarada's eyes widened with that thought before shaking it off.

By the end of the picnic an hour later, Sarada had already made a decision in regards to her parents. She was going to break them up! If Boruto was right about her father, it wasn't fair that her parents remain together. She wanted to see happiness radiate from her parent's cores.

The only problem was, how do you split up a couple where one partner waited years for the other?

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4: Reunited Team 8 Encounter

I'm late, but I made it! Enjoy!

On his way to find the Hyuu- Ahem, Uzumaki woman, Kiba corrected, he stopped briefly at the school. He hoped to entice his old teammate into joining him in ambushing their female friend. He found the teacher at his desk and it wasn't long before the dog lover convinced Shino to join him for the old Team 8 reunion, though the other male was not subtle in his suspicion of what Kiba was up to.

Now that the chunin was away from the blonde child, Kiba acknowledged that Hinata's and Naruto's marriage and its status quo was none of his business. However, if Boruto was right… if Hinata was unhappy… honestly, what could he do? He could keep her company and maybe help her not feel quite so alone.

When Hinata opened the door after Shino had knocked on it, Kiba threw a grin on his face. As words were exchanged, Kiba was happy to see his old teammate doing well. She seemed to have good weight on her, no bags under her eyes, and no obvious other sign of distress. As he agreed to getting a glass of water, Kiba took a moment to open his sense and took a slow deep breath. The kid wasn't lying in one regard. Hinata's home had many different scents. However, Naruto's personal scent was barely in the living room. If Naruto's scent was this weak in the common area, what was it like in the rest of the house?

Even though Kiba knew he seemed out of whack compared to normal, however, now that Boruto had brought his home situation to Chunin's attention, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He was thankfully that neither teammate called him out on his behavior. Turning his attention to Hinata, Kiba continued to respond as he felt was needed but otherwise did not contribute to the conversation. Kiba had learned several years ago that if he concentrated just right, he could smell a person's emotions. Each emotion had a different type of scent to it that after a lot of practice had learned, and even identified. After that, Kiba had always made sure to be very careful to not breathe too deeply around certain people as it gave his senses more information than he felt he should be privy to. However, this was Hinata, and he needed to know.

What he felt was almost like a slap to the face.

Loneliness. Sadness. Aching. Unfulfilled desire. It was in that moment that Hinata's expression changed in Kiba's eyes.

Her face never changed. She still had that soft smile and was looking at them both with a gentleness that belied her strength. Like she was in fact happy to see them. It made him want to wrap his arms around the woman sitting across the way.

How had he never noticed? He encouraged her love for Naruto. Celebrated that her love had been reciprocated when the blond had asked her to marry him.

When those lavender eyes turned to him in question, Kiba realised that he was expected to respond, but didn't know what was said.

"Kiba?"

"How long has it been since Naruto has actually come home for more than just a quick nap or shower," Kiba asked suddenly, no longer feeling that he wanted to beat around the bush. He kept his stare firm as he ignored Shino's sudden tenseness and Hinata's small gasp of surprise.

The Byakugan Princess' face flushed briefly before looking away, almost as if in search of her children. Kiba knew she wouldn't find anyone. Boruto hadn't returned, and he could tell that her daughter hadn't been home in several hours. He watched as her expression turned sour and watched her almost fidget in nervousness as if this was a conversation that she wanted to run from.

"Why do you ask Kiba," she asked, still not meeting his eyes.

"I heard something interesting from a little birdie," he answered. "So I came to investigate. Imagine my surprise that the home of my friend and her husband doesn't smell of her husband at all. In fact, even with my nose, Naruto's scent is so light that he seems like he's never here for longer than perhaps a shower or a change of clothes. Even Shikamaru and Temari's house has a good healthy dose of Shika's scent. Again, how long?"

They sat there for what felt like an eternity before Hinata shook her head with no response. Which meant that it was longer than she cared to admit to. Sigh, the brunette ran a hand over his face than his hair as he looked at his old female teammate.

"Before you answer this next question, I want you to really think about it first," Kiba said, his voice lowering with each word. "Are you sure that you are still IN love with Naruto than rather just love him?"

Hinata's eyes jumped to his, surprise flickering in their depths. He watched as she crossed her arms, bringing one hand to her chin as she thought about his question and it made him wish he could read minds. Her eyes flickered to their other teammate and Kiba had to stop his surprise as Shino's emotions slithered into his nose. Surprise. Happy. Sadness. Hope. Pain.

What in the hell?

Later. He would focus on that later.

"On second thought, don't answer that yet Hinata," Kiba stated before he stood, brushing his clothes out. "I want you to think about it. That man is quite literally a hero so we all love Naruto in different ways."

He grabbed the Aburame by the arm and lifted him, motioning towards the door even though the male moved grudgingly.

"You got more than most did with him. However, at what point should you move on from him? Eventually, your children will notice that he's not home. That there are problems between their parents because whether you'd like to admit it or not, you have them and one little birdie has already noticed it, then who knows how many more will notice. You are an amazing person, Hinata. How long are you willing to remain unhappy because of a picture you thought you had?"

As he spoke, Kiba had moved to the door, and though his hand rested on the handle, he had stopped. Turning around to look at her, as she had stood and followed them, Kiba smiled sadly at her. "When will you stop settling for less than what you deserve?"

It wasn't much, but he saw her eyes widen at his statement, and Kiba wondered how long it had been since someone spoke to her in such a way that wasn't her children. "Let's get together next week, and you can answer me then. Later!"

Then Kiba opened the door and walked away with a startled Aburame following him after he said his goodbyes to their teammate. He didn't even need to look back to know that the Hyuuga/Uzumaki woman was watching his back until he was no longer in sight. He could practically feel her eyes on him as he walked away.

Someone reminded me that this is supposed to fun, and I feel like perhaps I was trying to approach this a bit too seriously. I have no doubt it will happen again, but I need to keep those words close to my heart, so thank you for the support. Stay safe!

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6: Lack of suitors

A few days later found Team 7, during their off time, following both Sakura and Hinata throughout the day. The children had made their decision in regards to their fathers but they didn't want to leave their mothers to deal with the repercussions of their divorces alone. So the intent was to follow each individual woman to see what suitors would be available. To mention the lack of suitors left a bad aftertaste in Boruto's mouth.

Uchiha Sakura. Director of Konoha Children Mental Health Clinic. One Mother to Uchiha Sarada and wife to Uchiha Sasuke. In Sarada's own words, her mother was as much of a workaholic as her two original teammates.

The three genin had found themselves spending their Sakura-spying time at the hospital while the pinkette attended meetings and patients. She only ever spoke professionally to any of the males she came into contact with. There was never once even an implication that Sakura saw anything more out of any of her peers.

Uzumaki Hinata was not unlike the Medic Director. Since she had Boruto, Hinata had become a stay at home mom. The three of them had followed Hinata during the afternoon while Sakura had been in a long surgery. Hinata had done some grocery shopping, and had stopped at Ino's flower shop before going home. People had stopped her in the streets, but she had only stopped briefly. The end result of the Hinata-spying time was failure.

As the sun began to fall, team 7 walked into Yakiniku Q and found seats. After placing their order, Boruto let out a large sigh.

"Is it possible," Mitsuki started, getting both the Uzumaki and Uchiha's attention. "That maybe we are focusing too hard on your mom's?"

"What do you mean," Sarada asked.

"Both of your moms waited for your dads for a long time right? It wouldn't surprise me if they never saw anyone else. So it stands to reason that perhaps we need to focus on Naruto and Sasuke before their spouses. Once we get them together, or at least to admit their feelings, we can focus on the men that will converge on your mothers once it's known that they are free. We've verified that the men have some kind of feelings, but why have they never acted on it?"

Boruto took a sip of his soda while contemplating his mate's words. Not that he wasn't thankful that his parents hooked up, but it was a good question. Recalling what he gathered from his dad when Sasuke and he went to the past.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," boruto mused aloud but paused when the waitress arrived to give them their food. Once the waitress was gone, he continued. "My dad grew up as an orphan since he was born. Is it possible that he never knew or understood what he felt towards Sasuke until it was too late?"

Sarada swallowed the food in her mouth and pointed to Boruto, one eyebrow raised. "Possible, but what about my dad?"

It was Mitsuki that responded.

"Imagine being the last uchiha, and realizing that you like someone. However, that someone is a boy instead of a girl. I imagine back then, he probably had the idea that he would grow up, marry a girl, and reproduce, recreating a bloodline that was very nearly wiped out. You can't do that with a boy."

Boruto remained silent and turned his eyes to his food. It wasn't that. Afterall, Sasuke had left Konoha for revenge. He knew that but it wasn't a terrible point for after Sasuke's return. However, Boruto had to wonder. The rumors and stories that followed the great Sannin most often were not good ones. During his Sensei's time away from Konoha, what had he done? The things in Sasuke's past… was there a reason none of the adults liked to give Sasuke their back? Perhaps, Sasuke hadn't thought he was good enough after having returned?

"-Uto? Did you hear anything about what I just said," Sarada asked, already cleaning off her hands from having finished eating.

"I'm sorry, what?"

" I said, none of that matters considering I exist. So how should we go about hooking them up?"

Even as the last word escaped her mouth, large amount of laughing and hollering echoed through the restaurant as two young uniformed ninja fell out of their booths wrestled on the floor. There was cheering and drinks passed around the celebrating table.

The three genin watched the scene before chuckling and looking away. However, Mitsuki and Sarada jerked in surprise at the gleeful, mischievous grin spread across the Blondes whiskered face.

"Alcohol! I know that Dad has a bottle or two put away especially for when he wants a drink or four. Maybe we can get them super drunk, play a few rounds of truth or dare along with that game 7 minutes in Hell?"

"It's 7 minutes in heaven, Boruto," Sarada exclaimed. "But it's not a bad idea. Lets see if we can do an evening of games!"

With the agreement made, the genin split up. Sarada ran off to get permission to use the house while Sakura was on a long shift. Boruto was off to collect the alcohol and Mitsuki was sent to the grocery store. They had agreed that was everything was finalized and procured, then they would collect the two adults.

Author's notes: I know it's been slow going, but I feel like I'm getting my feet underneath me! I actually have a couple of chapters that I'm about to pump out for this website, but I hope you find it worth the wait 3 I look forward to seeing you next time!

7: 7 Minutes of Heaven

Before we start! Please be aware that this gets pretty... graphic I guess? No over all dirty deeds, but still some juice for ya! It was my first time, I hope it's decent. Please enjoy!

The thing was, Naruto wasn't entirely sure how he got here. He wasn't sure how he found himself in a closet, filled with coats and umbrellas and who knows what else with his best friend Sasuke. He couldn't even.

Pressing his back as close to the wall as he could, Naruto pushed a hand against his forehead as he replayed the last hour in his head. How many drinks had his children given him? Now that he tried to think about it, he couldn't recall his glass ever being empty which would explain the warm buzz of liquid courage in his veins. He needed to create space between him and Sasuke. At the same time, he had to admit, the kids got him good. Naruto could feel his center of gravity was off kilter and he could acknowledge to himself that he was primarily standing courtesy of the wall that he leaned on.

Unable to help himself, the blonde chuckled to himself. Those brats must have gotten their hands on his stash that he kept away for the particularly harder days. The ones that made him question why he chose to be Hokage in the first place. They didn't happen often, but even he wasn't immune to his demons. Naruto felt the shift of the person who had joined him in the dark cubicle of darkness and he felt everything inside of himself zone in on the Uchiha and he immediately tensed as he was reminded of his circumstances.

"Is there something you find amusing about this situation, usuratonkachi," a deep voice broke through the silence and Naruto had to try to suppress the whispers of goosebumps across his skin.

He tried to swallow the lump that formed in his throat and wished he had brought a glass of water with him. However, at his son's provoking, the blonde had allowed himself to be manipulated into dragging the adult Uchiha into the nearest closet. "I-I was just thinking that the kids got me pretty good," Naruto admitted, his voice barely a whisper. For some reason, he found it difficult to break the silence.

"Hn. It probably didn't help that they kept that glass of your filled," Sasuke echoed his previous thoughts, causing him to chuckle again. Ever as his best friend spoke, Naruto used his voice to center himself. Even he wasn't entirely sure why he had reacted the way he had. When his son had suggested on a dare that he spend 7 minutes of heaven in a closet with his best friend, his intoxicated brain had been more than thrilled. An excuse. Any excuse. Presented so nicely in front him. How could he not take it?

Then it clicked who had suggested such a thing, and in less than a second, Naruto's filter had kicked into gear and he had denied the dare. After all, how could he do such a thing? The things that could happen! After all, it had taken a simple goad from Sasuke's Daughter that had prompted him to grab the other male and drag him to where they stood now. And it was such a simple one. "They are best friends! Of course Hokage-sama and Otou-san would be fine sharing such a close space. They aren't immature brats like you Boruto!"

Suddenly Sasuke shifted, bringing Naruto's attention back to the present. As the Uchiha moved, Naruto pursed his lips together to keep the sound of pleasure from escaping. At this moment, the blond was thankful for the darkness that the closet provided as even the smallest brush of Sasuke's leg against his sent small slivers of lightning through his veins. It was only ever him that sent that kind of electricity through him. Then and even now.

It wasn't fair.

"Usuratonkachi," Sasuke's voice rippled through the darkness and Naruto's brain rushed to keep up as the blonde felt his felts breath against his ear as the male's physical weight settled against Naruto's own. "6 Minutes."

Then, Naruto felt electricity spike through him once again as he felt Sasuke's fingertips sneak beneath his shirt and connect with his skin just above his hips. Naruto felt Sasuke brace himself against the blonde, and very quickly, he felt the Uchiha lips brush just briefly along his skin at the base of his neck. Turning his head just a hint towards Sasuke, Naruto could smell the alcohol on the other male and he briefly wondered just how much his best friend had to drink.

Did it matter?

Yes. No. Did it?

Naruto swallowed his moan as Sasuke's hand slid up his stomach in a slow confident streak. He felt Sasuke's lips ghost from his shoulder and up his throat, gently pressing kisses. It felt as if Sasuke's hand was touching every once of naked skin that the pale hand could touch, leaving not one area unmarked. "Sas-" Naruto gasped out and he brought one hand to cover his mouth, to smother the sound that tried to escape.

"5 Minutes," Naruto heard through the darkness. If he hadn't been so in tune with Sasuke, Naruto was certain that he would have missed it. "Usuratonkachi, touch me."

He can't. He wouldn't dare. What if Sasuke changed his mind? What if Sasuke's timing was wrong? What if the kids opened it? What if Sakura found out? Hin-

Naruto's mind went blank as Sasuke's hand slid through the neck hole to grasp Naruto's shirt to bring Naruto's mouth to brunette. Take it. A voice whispered and Naruto moaned, his eyes shutting despite not being able to see anyways.

Immediately, the blonde put his hands to work. He shifted, changing their positions so that Sasuke had his back pressed against the wall, Naruto firmly inserting himself in between Sasuke's legs. Naruto pushed against Sasuke as his hands snaked around to cup Sasuke's ass. Naruto lifted Sasuke just enough to force the male to use the blonde for support. In a way, it felt like a switch had been flipped in the blonde's head. The older man reached up, digging his fingers into the blonde locks.

As Sasuke requested, Naruto took the moment to run his fingers over the male, but his hand paused momentarily over Sasuke's stump. Naruto felt a wave of guilt and satisfaction spread through him. So instead he tried to drown out both emotions by locking his lips with Sasuke. Unlike their very first kiss, which had been clumsy and unrefined, this one involved no teeth clashing, no anger. Just a simple urgency to pour their emotions into the one action.

"3 Minutes," Sasuke let out what sounded like a happy sigh as they broke apart and Naruto had to marvel that the male was able to still keep track of time.

As the male retracted his arm from Naruto's head, Sasuke didn't hesitate to run his nails down Naruto's chest, stomach, then ran small infinity symbols along his pelvis, just above Naruto's pants. Then, he flattened his palm against Naruto's stomach, pushing him back just slightly as Sasuke fell to his knees. Naruto's eyes opened in surprise even as he caught himself from making too much noise.

Naruto's blue eyes glowed in the dark and Sasuke watched as the color deepened as they met his sharigan. Naruto's real hand settled in Sasuke's hair as he felt Sasuke lift his shirt and place his lips just over Naruto's left hip bone. Without ever breaking eye contact, Sasuke gently kissed Naruto's hips once, then twice before he ran his tongue over the Kyuubi seal that still existed over Naruto's stomach. The jinchuriki placed his other hand over his mouth to smother the small moans and pants that attempted to escape.

"One minute," Sasuke stated a few moments later, having completed his tongue tracing of the seal on Naruto's stomach. From his crouched position, he took in Naruto's appearance and Naruto wanted to punch the self satisfied grin off the Uchiha's face. Covering his face with the hand that had been covering his mouth, Naruto kept his focus on the red glowing eye stare as he willed his heart to settle down.

Neither adult spoke as the minute ticked by. However as Sasuke stood back up, the male took Naruto's hand from his hair and placed a gentle kiss against the center of it. It wasn't until the doorknob rattled as the children opened the door that Naruto let the hand fall to his side and Sasuke allowed it.

As the light flooded the small space, Naruto felt like he'd been punched in the gut but when 3 children revealed themselves behind the door, Naruto flashed them a grin with a thumbs up. "Yosh! Is it time up already?"

Author's notes: This chapter was interesting. I had this chapter half written when I hit a really hard depression spell with stress from work, life, etc and found I couldn't write this. Then the other evening, I scratched everything I had written and this just poured out onto paper. I hope it was worth the wait! Stay safe 3

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8: Second only to Naruto

Boruto wasn't sure what he was expecting when they opened the door at the end of 7 minutes. But he knew that seeing his dad grinning at him, his face flushed, shirt rumpled and his hair ruffled as though he had run his hands through his own hair, was not it.

The young blonde shifted his gaze to the Uchiha and he felt confident that something had indeed happened.

The black haired ninja's hair and clothes were also ruffled however the expression on the male was mostly blank except for the small twitch near one corner of Sasuke's mouth. Boruto had learned to look beneath the surface for tall tale signs of Sasuke's mood. It was those small signs that gave way to Sasuke's self satisfied pride that was cooly reflecting in the black eye that stared at the blonde Hokage.

Had Sasuke taken advantage of the situation given to him?

Even though Boruto could hear the chatter in the room, it sounded like white noise in his ears. He watched as his father straightened himself and attempted to step around Boruto's teacher, and the genin watched as Naruto swept too close to Sasuke forcing him to trip. Boruto observed the two men as Sasuke caught the Hokage and they shared a look.

It was the same one that had started this whole adventure. The love that reflected in their eyes made Boruto want to flinch under the intensity. This time though, Boruto saw one emotion in his father's blue eyes that he had never seen directed at his mother.

Desire.

And just like that, Naruto relaxes into Sasuke's grip, his eyes closing and a soft snore ripples through the white noise the genin had been experiencing.

Sasuke chuckles as he expertly rearranges the Nanadaime so that Sasuke could use his one good arm to hold onto him. "Usuratonkachi, you shouldn't fall asleep on me just because you are drunk," Sasuke whispers tenderly, dragging the blonde man with him.

Once he had safely removed himself and Naruto from the closet, the Uchiha male looked at the three genin. "I will take Naruto to the spare bedroom so he can sleep off all the alcohol you gave him. I trust you boys will behave while sharing Sarada's floor."

Perhaps it was the end goal that had Boruto already sensitive to Sasuke's implication and he felt his face heat up.

"Tou-san!"

"Sensei!"

"You can trust us!"

Sasuke chuckled as he nodded. "One of you come help open the door."

In the end, it was agreed that Mitsuki and Sarada would set up the futons for the children while Boruto helped put his dad to bed. Which was fine with him. Perhaps his sensei would be a little more talkative than usual.

Thankfully, Sarada's home wasn't very large so it didn't take long to get to the spare room. However, upon scanning the room, Boruto found himself surprised that it looked like someone currently occupied the room. On the nightstand next to the full size bed was a picture that the blonde genin had seen several times. It was a copy of his dad's genin team, before Sasuke had left.

Next to it was a picture of baby Sarada being held by Sasuke, and lastly, there was a photo of the Uzumaki and Uchiha. It must have been before the children had been born. His dad's only arm was thrown over Sasuke's shoulder with his fingers in a peace sign with one of the biggest, happiest grins that Boruto could recall ever seeing. Sasuke still had his bangs short and in the mismatched gaze held a sad wonderment as he looked at the blonde even though there was a smile on his face.

At the sound of something being dropped, Boruto turned to see that Sasuke had dropped his dad onto the bed. Quickly, the blonde scurried over to the two males to assist.

"In the dresser, there are spare clothes that we should change your dad into. Bottom drawer."

Without wasting time, Boruto changed directions and did as he was instructed. He paused momentarily when he opened the drawer as he was greeted by a couple of his dad's favored color of choice in shirts with a few pairs of pants that he knew wouldn't fit his sensei.

Grabbing the pair most like pajama pants and a generic orange shirt, Boruto turned and almost dropped the clothes in his hands. Sasuke had taken the time Boruto used to get behind Naruto and pulled him against the older male on the bed. Sasuke had apparently also used that same time to remove Naruto's shirt and was waiting expectantly. For a one arm man, it was continually surprising Boruto how fast the Uchiha was.

"Sasuke, why do you have clothes that fit Dad," boruto asked as he wandered over. He scooted onto the bed and lifted of Naruto's arms to begin putting the new shirt on.

"I insisted after I found him passed out in the Hokage chair one too many times," Sasuke answered. "Sakura and I chose this place because of my need to be close to the Hokage in case of emergency."

Boruto froze in his activity and looked up the uchiha. It took his brain several seconds to comprehend a few different things. 1. Sasuke was indeed more talkative (as he should be given the kids made sure his cup was never empty either). 2. Sasuke's voice was clear, but slurred certain words together. 3. Boruto could practically feel the warmth oozing from the adult's voice. 4. Sasuke needed to be near the Hokage? "Why?"

Sasuke didn't respond at first. Instead he finished pulling down the shirt but let his hand rest on Naruto's hip. He tilted his head just slightly, as if he was nuzzling the side of Naruto's head. Then he wrapped his arms around the blinds waist and said "When I lift him, yank only his pants off and put the pj bottoms on. 1, 2, 3."

As instructed, boruto moved quickly. Once that was complete, the blonde got off the bed and placed his hands on his hips, still waiting for an answer.

Not having moved, Sasuke still sat with his back to the wall and Naruto slowly curled into Sasuke's lap in his sleep. The Uchiha's gaze was still turned to the Hokage but Boruto could tell that the dark haired man was debating with himself. Then, the blonde's patience was rewarded.

"There is a seal on this house that allows me to teleport here regardless of where I am at. Once, before these peaceful times, ninja were always attacking Konoha. Before the war, Konoha had already been leveled once or twice. When I returned and I was cleared for duty, I had a hard time remaining in Konoha. I only came back because of Naruto. No matter where I am, his safety matters to me more than anyone."

Boruto had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Sasuke-san" boruto started, his voice barely louder than whisper. "What about Sarada?"

Sasuke turned his black eye up to Boruto and he watched as the black faded to red and his gaze seemed to go past the blonde. "Sarada is second only to Naruto."

So after the last chapter, this one sort of just rolled itself right onto paper. I hope you enjoyed it! Stay Safe 3

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9: Acceptance

Sarada and Mitsuki had quickly set up the futons in her room, though hapazardly, as both genin didn't want to be separate from the excitement yet. She been surprised when the Hokage had fallen asleep rather suddenly, but she acknowledged that he worked very hard most days. However, when she had expressed her pleasure that it was the real Uzumaki and not a clone, Boruto had shared similar thoughts.

She had been grateful that her mother had a 24 hour shift at the hospital. It had allowed for the gathering to be just her team and their fathers.

As her teammate approached the half open door, she grabbed the pale boys arm as the sound of father speaking reached her ears.

"-... I was cleared for duty, I had a hard time remaining in Konoha. I only came back because of Naruto. No matter where I am, his safety matters to me more than anyone."

"Sasuke-san" boruto started, his voice barely louder than whisper. "What about Sarada?"

Thankfully, Mitsuki moved over just enough to grant Sarada visual to the scene playing out in front of her. There was only one word she could think of when she looked at her father hold her Nanadaime.

Beautiful.

Sasuke turned his black eye up as the black faded to red and his gaze seemed to go past the blonde straight to her. Her father was looking at her.

"Sarada is second only to Naruto."

Sarada could feel the tears filling her eyes and she felt a gentle but firm squeeze on her shoulder. She had often wondered where she stood in his life. He did spend several years of her childhood away from the village. Did that mean she ranked higher than her mother? She wasn't sure how to feel about that.

She watched as her father lifted his one hand to play with the blonde strands that stuck up on Naruto's head. The male Uchiha never took his eyes off his daughter, but she could see the droopy in his eyes, the dark bags that were forming, and though his gaze was intense, she could see the alcoholic glaze that indicated that her father was more than toasted but was coherent by his own will power. She could also see the slight flush over his cheeks.

If she wanted to know, this would be her only chance.

"Tou-san," she started, opening the door. She opened her mouth to speak only to close it again. It seemed she lacked the courage to ask. At least until she felt a hand slide into hers and giving a familiar squeeze of encouragement. "Are you in love with Hokage-sama?"

For a second, Sarada felt the air become stagnant. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and felt like she was unable to drag any air into her lungs. Almost like she was suffocating. Was she afraid of his answer?

Then, unapologetically and clearly, Sasuke answered. "Yes."

And just like that, the air became lighter and Sarada took a deep breath, her lungs burning. "Then why are you still with Sakura-san," Boruto asked.

Sighing, Sasuke shifted just a little bit and he tore his gaze from his daughter. When he looked back at them, his sharingan was turned off. "We're not. Sakura bares my name and had my child, but we have an arrangement. Sarada, you should ask her about the details. For now, let me sleep the alcohol you poured down our throats."

Mitsuki and Sarada giggled but Boruto was silently staring at him and the blonde Hokage (who was still happily in dream land). Sarada attempted to take Boruto's arm but he shrugged her hand off.

"Is it tou-san fault," Boruto asked.

There it was. The look Boruto had mentioned to them previously as Sasuke's eyes closed. Love. Sadness. Acceptance. Loss. Sarada knew that her father was done speaking on the matter. So Sarada stepped to the edge of the bed and reached out to touch the man's leg and she gently squeezed it.

"Tou-san, we want you both happy. If Uzumaki Naruto is what makes you happy, you have our blessing."

Sasuke's eyes snapped up to look at the three genin before him and she wondered what he saw. When she glanced over her shoulder, Boruto had a grin on his face and was holding a thumbs up while Mitsuki nodded his head in agreement with a smile . So Sarada turned back just as she saw tears form a pool in his eyes before he adverted his face away and into Naruto's hair.

"Hn."

Smiling, Sarada turned around and grabbed Boruto's hand to drag him out of the room. "Sleep well tou-san!"

And Mitsuki waved as he closed the door behind him and his two teammates.

Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay safe!

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10: Regrets and Closure

Holy smokes! This one got away from me XD Apparently, when it's self discrimination, insecurities, negatives, etc, I can almost just keep going but hopefully you enjoy the long chapter!

The first thing Naruto was aware of was how comfortably warm he was. The second thing he became aware of was that he was curled around and holding something. Something that seemed both soft and hard at the same time. The third thing he became aware of was the massive pounding of his brain against his skull and the cottonmouth feel in his mouth.

Grimacing, Naruto tightened his hold on the thing in his arms as his recollection of the previous night started to filter in. When did he get to bed? When had he fallen asleep? His last clear memory was of the small menaces daring him and Sasuke into the closet.

Closet? Just as the memory surfaced, the scent of vanilla and cedar rose to his nose. Without thinking about it, Naruto turned his face into fluffiness which the scent came from. Where did he know that perfect blend of scents? Hinata? No, that's not right.

Sasuke?

Opening one eye, the blonde was greeted by raven colored hair. Suppressing the surprised jump, Naruto felt the regret, guilt, pleasure and satisfaction slam into all at once while he verified his bedmate.

He took a few more minutes to enjoy the feel of his oldest friend against him. At the same time, he accessed his situation. Sasuke would kill him if he woke up tangled the way he was with the blonde. Not to mention, Naruto knew his morning wood would definitely be noticed if Sasuke was to wake. However, it pleased Naruto that Sasuke seemed quite dead to the world, laying on his right side, gently clinging to Naruto's arm in his sleep. Even to this day, Naruto knew Sasuke had a hard time fully relaxing so he was grateful the Uchiha felt comfortable enough to let his guard down.

Very gently, Naruto unraveled his legs from Sasuke and gave a silent cheer when the man did not wake. Though it didn't last long as the uchiha gave a huff of displeasure that caused Naruto's lips to twitch. However the dark haired man simply let Naruto go as he muttered something to the effect of don't go long even as he turned onto his back, almost as if Sasuke knew it would no longer be guarded.

The sight made Naruto smile even as he ignored the stabs of guilt in his chest. If Sasuke hadn't been keeping track of time, Naruto would have made a mistake. A large one, no matter how willing his best friend had been. Hinata didn't deserve that.

Pursing his lips together, Naruto walked out of the room and as quietly as he could closed the door behind him. He stared at the door for a moment, his mind whirling with thoughts but quiet all the same.

Back then, he hadn't understood what he felt for Sasuke. Back then, he had thought that what he felt was normal. The rivalry, the warmth, the gut wrenching sorrow when Sasuke had left and the need to get him back, no matter what. Sasuke was the first person past Iruka to accept him. How could he just leave the boy to his pain? He couldn't. Naruto understood, first hand, what it was like to be alone. Back then, Naruto had been willing to do anything to receive acknowledgement. So he had taken so much abuse by the time he had become a genin. Physical, sexual, emotional. It hadn't mattered much until he had been able to at least fight back seriously. It had only been then that all the abuse had stopped. It turned out that bullies didn't like it when you broke something even after being kicked down.

If he could save the one person who had acknowledged him when he had needed it most (Afterall, Iruka could only do so much), then Naruto would have done anything to save his best friend. Except he hadn't been able to save him. It never bode well for the blonde when he got stuck in his own head.

Turning from the door, the blonde Hokage went in search of their children. In Sarada's room, Naruto found all three children passed out in the same bed. Boruto laid in the middle on his back, mouth wide open and drool hanging down one corner. On his left, laid Mitsuki who was on his side facing Boruto. His light blue hair lay much like a halo around the boy's head creating an innocence in the boy's face that made it difficult to associate him as Orochimaru's son. One of his hands was wrapped in Boruto's hand almost as if each boy didn't want to let the other go. In Mitsuki's other hand where it rested on Boruto's stomach, his fingers laced with Sasuke's daughter. On Boruto's right side, the blonde boy had his arm wrapped around the dark haired girl and her head rested on his chest. Sarada's other hand raised from underneath her to lace fingers with the blonde.

Naruto stared at the picture laid before him and he could feel his heart in his throat. He wasn't blind. He knew what the kids were up to. Though it had been Mitsuki that had clued him in. He thought back to the previous day when the genin had approached him.

"Hokage-sama, may I ask for some of your time?"

Looking up from his paperwork at the sound of Boruto's teammate's voice, Naruto grinned. "Mitsuki! What's up?"

The boy shifted where he stood, almost as if he was uncertain. In a way, his quiet ways reminded him both of Sasuke and Shino. However, the boy squared his shoulders and started with "Team 7 would officially like to invite you to a night of games with us and Sasuke-san!"

Unable to help his laughter, Naruto agreed to such plans but then the light blue haired genin shifted again. "Also, I wanted to ask for your advice."

Naruto nodded his head in encouragement for the boy to continue. However, the genin turned slightly pink before Naruto barely heard "Nara-san, may I have some privacy?"

The Hokage looked up at his ever present aid who sighed, and muttered "troublesome" as he walked out. Both Naruto and Mitsuki watched the nara until he closed the door behind him. Then Mitsuki actually fidgeted for a moment.

"Is there something wrong with liking someone who is the same gender? I asked my parent but Orochimaru was not helpful."

Naruto managed to suppress his surprise and was able to keep his expression neutral. "Not at all," the blonde answered. "I don't think gender matters if you can find someone who you truly like. It's an amazing thing to find. The people who you want in your life will accept you if they truly love you. You shouldn't let something like gender stop you."

"Then why did you let it stop you'" Mitsuki asked, his head tilting just slightly. Naruto recognized that look. It was the look of a person who has a puzzle that they can't solve. Someone who was trying to make the pieces fit. "What if I have two people who make me feel this?"

Naruto decided to ignore the first question. "Life is difficult enough with just one. My previous suggestion still stands. I've heard of arrangements where one person has more than one partner, but I don't know much about that one. Just that it can be done with time, work and effort on all sides."

Looking back at the conversation, Naruto wondered if Mitsuki had been speaking about his team. Shikamaru had interrupted and the Hokage had been given a reprieve, but he wondered how long it would last.

Naruto stepped backwards, closing the bedroom door behind him. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. In fact, by the time he could get rid of the cottonmouth, he had drunk 3 glasses of water. By his fourth glass, the blonde found himself staring at the flow of water, his ears straining to hear sounds from around the house. After a few minutes, Naruto turned off the water and simply placed the cup in the sink, but his gaze remained empty as he stared at nothing.

What a hypocrite he was. Naruto had chosen the coward's way and he knew it. After the war, he had started his studying for chunin ranks, Sasuke had gone through his trials, and before he knew it, Naruto could hear the whispers. He would study, take missions, marry, be Hokage and be happy. Soon enough, Hinata's interest had been known and since Sasuke had decided to travel to repent, Naruto had buckled under everyone's attention, demands, and their pressure.

By the time Naruto understood that what he felt for Sasuke would always be more than how he felt for Hinata. The woman barely held a candle to how he had felt about his teammate. Except his bravery had failed him when he needed it most, and so he did what he was told. Before he knew it, Sasuke and Sakura had had Sarada, and then Hinata had Boruto, then Himawari. It ashamed and disgusted him to admit that he had always been drunk when he slept with Hinata and could only get hard when he imagined his dark haired male teammate.

As a result, Naruto allowed his work to swallow him. If he was always working… If he was always neck deep in work then he wouldn't have to go home. If he didn't go home, then he wouldn't be faced with his failure. The failure of not being able to love his wife the way she loved him. The failure of not being able to give Hinata what she deserved.

How should he explain this to Hinata? What did he say? To Hinata? To Sasuke? To Sakura? Turning his gaze to the walls that separated him from Sasuke. Even after all these years, the feelings that he held close to his heart had never faded. A part of him had hoped that he had misunderstood his feelings, once he had realized what they were. However, Naruto had been sorely disappointed when they seemed to swell each time the other man returned from his long missions.

"-ruto?"

A soft feminine voice broke through his haze and Naruto blinked several times before his wife's image cleared and he was brought back to the present. He looked around as he was unsure how he even got there. He didn't remember ever leaving Sasuke's place. In place of his teammate's living room, stood his wife at their front door, looking at Naruto with concern. The sun was low enough that the sky was only beginning to turn blue so it wasn't surprising to find Hinata awake. He knew that she was an early bird, even now.

"Naruto, what's wrong?" Hinata asked, bringing up a hand to touch him. However when he flinched away, her hand froze midair before falling to her side. When Naruto refused to meet her eyes, Hinata pursed her lips together before turning around and opening the door. "Come in Naruto-kun," she said softly, hoping to entice him. "I'll get you some tea before you start your day."

Silently, Naruto followed his wife into their home, but as he passed the family photos on the walls from the door to the living room, he felt the knife in his gut twist in regret some more. Hinata had given him a family. A home to call his own when he had never known one growing up. Even though he had yet to speak to her, Hinata never demanded he speak up again. She had always been that way though. Soft, understanding, gentle, patient, etc. Hinata always seemed to take Naruto's moods as they came, never struggling to understand him when everyone else seemed not to. There really wasn't anyone better that Naruto would have preferred to mother his children. She was one of the best people that Naruto could say he had the honor of knowing.

Hinata set a cup of tea on the table in front him before taking a seat across the table. Even then, she didn't say anything. She simply looked him over while Naruto avoided her direct gaze. After what felt like an eternity (though Naruto acknowledged it was probably only a few seconds, a couple of minutes tops), Hinata put her glass down and smiled at him.

"I see."

Startled, Naruto looked up at his wife and felt his eyes widen even more as he took in the woman before him. She was sitting in her chair with her back straight, her hands wrapped around the cup and her front end hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her lavender eyes seemed to look right through him and Naruto felt her sad gaze to his core even though her expression was still soft.

She knew.

"Y-You knew," he asked, his voice trembling as he pushed the words out, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Hinata nodded her head as she answered him. "Yes. I've always known that it would happen one day. However I made a choice to be selfish and have simply been waiting for you to make your decision."

"How?"

Hinata chuckled softly before turning her gaze down to her tea. "Kiba. He and Shino surprised me with a visit the other day and asked me questions that had me by surprise. I figured if that airhead could see that there were problems, it meant that you were coming around. Kiba asked me that day "When will you stop settling for less than what you deserve?" I admit that I have often wondered that same question. I made the decision that it would be the day that you decided you could come to terms with your feelings with Sasuke-kun."

Naruto stared at his wife in amazement. The blonde had no idea his wife's old teammates had come around. He recalled how Kiba used to feel Hinata and had often throughout the years had felt bad until Kiba had seemed to finally started to look at other women. However, the question was an excellent one. When had Hinata become so mature? She always seemed to be one step ahead of him, even in the past. Was it that obvious? How he felt about Sasuke?

When Hinata looked back up at him, he found himself strangely lighter, more relaxed than he had in a long time. In fact, so did Hinata as she spoke, "I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and Naruto-kun, I've always known that it was always Sasuke-kun. I hope you can forgive me for being selfish for so long instead of encouraging you to follow your heart, just as you always have."

Naruto protested loudly and quickly as he came to his feet. "NEVER! Hinata! You have nothing to apologize for! If anything, it should be me apologizing for not being able to love you the way you deserve!"

Hinata, simply smiled at him, a sad, quiet acceptance in her eyes. She had known. She said she had always known. She came to her feet as well, walking around the table and taking Naruto's real hand into her own. She turned his palm up and gently pressed a kiss to the center. "How about we agree to forgive each other and move on? You gave me two beautiful children Naruto-kun, that I wouldn't replace them for anything. You loved me with what you could, and I took what you were willing to give. So going forward, I'll support you with Sasuke-kun, and when I find someone, you support me with that person?"

Naruto stared at her for several seconds and she watched as tears welled in his eyes until there were pools and small streams down his face. He nodded his agreement but gathered Hinata into his arms where he rested his head on her shoulder. He felt her reach up and stroke his head though it wasn't long before he felt her tears on his hair/cheek.

She had given him everything.

Maybe one day, someone would give her everything in his place.

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm actually really satisfied with how this one came out. Hinata really is one of the best characters I know in the whole series. I hope I did her justice 3 stay safe out there!

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11: Falling apart to Heal

Word had spread like wild over over a period of two days. The separation of the Nanadaime Hokage and his wife. Both parties had refused to say anything to the public so the rumor mill had run rampant faster than either one could have anticipated. Hinata had returned to the Hyuuga district, happy to give Naruto the house they had lived in so that the kids would be able to keep their rooms.

When word had spread to the hospital, Sakura had sat down after a long surgery, hoping to get a short relief when she had just overheard two nurses talking amongst themselves on when the Hokage would return to the dating scene. She placed a cold coffee against her forehead and closed her eyes. The pinkette hadn't seen her old teammate, but she was fairly certain she knew the cause of Hokage's recent marriage separation.

Several years ago, Sakura and Sasuke had made an arrangement, and both had kept to it. Sasuke's side was that he had to marry her and give her his name. As a civilian turned shinobi, she didn't have a clan but the Uchiha name held great prestige even amongst other villages. Adding that to her list of achievements certainly had helped. Not to mention the wide berth strangers had given her. Afterall, she was a student of one of the legendary Sannin and a badass in her own right. However, the fortune that had come with Sasuke's name had been more than she had saved, and with Sasuke's approval, she had used it to set up the Konoha Children Mental Health Clinic.

In return, Sakura would produce a child for him which would continue his bloodline. They had been on a mission together and when it had been completed, the two had gone for drinks. One thing led to another and their plan had gone off without a hitch. It was that night that Sasuke had admitted to her how he felt about their blonde teammate. It was the night Sakura had accepted that the Uchiha would never be hers.

Even in love, the two left her behind.

That wasn't necessarily true though, and she knew it. She had the chance. The opportunity to seek love, affection, family, and acceptance in a person. However, she had been so wrapped in a fantasy, that she had allowed for that opportunity to pass her by.

Sakura knew that it wouldn't be long before the Uchiha came to resolve their contract. She had to admit, even the idea was a wee bit bittersweet. How would Sarada react to their separation?

Across from her, Sakura heard a chair scrape across the floor and a person plop into it, letting out a large sigh. Opening one eye, she locked onto dark eyes, bushy brows, and his standard green leotard suit. "Sakura-chan! How are you this beautiful day?"

"Lee-san, what are you doing here," Sakura asked, choosing to ignore his inquiry. She didn't know if she could answer him truthfully.

"Metal had an incident during training so we are here to get him tended," Lee answered, although his eyes roamed over her face. What was it that Lee was looking for when he looked at her? Was he concerned? Did she have bags under her eyes? She did need to eat more? Yes. Not that it mattered. "Sakura-chan, when was the last time you relaxed?"

While she was surprised, Sakura tried to think the last time it was. Though she honestly couldn't remember when the last was. What did one do while they relaxed anyways? She had work. Sarada. What more did she need? So she shrugged in response to his question. Apparently, it was the wrong answer as Lee shouted, "YOSH! SAKURA-CHAN! WE SHALL SPAR!"

Before Sakura could reject the offer, he had already grabbed her by her wrist and was pulling her through the hospital. As they passed a nurse station, Lee shouted, "UCHIHA SAKURA IS GOING ON LUNCH. PLEASE LET METAL LEE KNOW THAT HIS FATHER HAS TAKEN SAKURA OUT! THANK YOU!"

Completely baffled, Sakura could only stare dumbfounded after the green suited man. Behind her, she could hear a small cheer from the hospital staff that sounded suspiciously similar to "thank the gods" but she couldn't be sure as the doors muffled their voices. She opened her mouth to say something however when she tried to search for it Sakura was unable to find the words that she wanted to say. Afterall, when was the last time she'd even gone sparring? Perhaps it would do her some good to relieve some of the stress and tension that she'd been thinking and Lee was the best person to go against her in many ways. Sometimes a person really just did need a good taijutsu duel.

So she quietly followed after him until they reached one of the training grounds. Sakura was thankful that Lee didn't try to engage her in conversation as she instead took note of her chakras levels. The surgery had been a long one however she was grateful she had chakra left over in case of emergency. She had no doubt there would be such a case, but Lee and herself had historically left a training ground decimated after practice, both equally exhausted.

Their weekly, sometimes bi-weekly meet ups had started shorted after Metal had been born. Lee's partner had had complications during her pregnancy and Tsunade and Shizune had been unable to save both the woman and child. At the mother's insistence, the previous Hokage and her assistant had depleted their chakra reserves just to ensure the child's survival. While Metal had been hospitalized until Tsunade had decided he could live without the extra support, Lee had spiralled into a state of depression and self destruction in his grief.

Even as Lee let her hand go to walk across the field, Sakura could still see the broken man he had been. She could still feel the terror she had felt when Gai-sensei had summoned her in a state of panic. Back then, Gai had led Sakura to one of the training grounds where Rock Lee had been on a rampage. By the time she had calmed him, he already had 6 of the 8 gates open. Sakura remembered having to beat sense into him, quite literally, by knocking him unconscious. While she had spent the time needed to stitch him back together, she had made several promises in hopes he would hear her.

He had.

One such promise was that whenever he needed to fight, to take his grief and channel it somewhere, she would meet him. Over the years, he had held her to it. If she were honest, it was therapeutic for her as well even if their sparring was sometimes delayed to missions. Which reminded her, when was their last match?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, her body reacted without direction to block Rock Lee's kick as she returned to the present. Even as the hum of anticipation swept through her and her emerald eyes locked on the green beast, Sakura could see Lee's grin. The little green eat knew she had been distracted.

Clenching her jaw, Sakura shifted her weight just as she turned her wrist and wrapped her hand around his leg. As she jerked his leg toward her, Sakura planted her other elbow into his gut. Hearing his breath escape him, Sakura then twisted to wrap her hand around his head, smashing his forehead into her right knee. Before contact, Sakura felt a hand enter the space before catching her knee. At the same time, she felt the leg she had caught plant itself on the ground and she was lifted into the air. Sakura's vision starred for a few seconds as her back collided with the ground.

What felt like an eternity later, Sakura and Rock Lee sat with backs against each other, panting heavily. When they had started, the sun had been high in the sky but now dusk wasn't far off. Both of them were breathing heavily as they say covered in a green glow as Sakura slowly used her remaining chakra to heal the worst of their wounds.

"Neh, Sakura-chan, did you want to talk about what's bothering you now," rock lee asked, still panting.

Even though Sakura didn't answer right away, Rock Lee simply remained quiet. His silence was always a great comfort to her. He always said his part then simply waited for her. He never rushed her and always seemed content to just be in her company. Sakura leaned her head back to rest against her back as she looked up at the sky. Did she want to talk about it? Not really. Who ever wants to talk about their failing marriage? Even though she had known from the beginning, Sakura had held onto a small hope, one she tried hard not to flame, that one day the Uchiha would look at her instead of their blonde teammate.

"I think I'm going to file for divorce," Sakura whispered.

She had never said the words out loud. It felt strange to hear the words out loud. The pinkette felt the male behind her stiffen and felt him shift as he tried to look over his shoulder at her. "Sakura-chan…."

"Even I have to know when to let go, yeah?" When Sakura's voice broke, she dropped her head, brought one hand to cover her mouth as the sob tried to escape, and squeezed her eyes shut. Immediately, she felt Rock Lee get up and wrap his arms around her. He placed one hand over her eyes, almost as if to give her a dark place to let go while He wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her body against his. She felt his head rest on top of her and She could hear his heart pounding against her back which made more tears fall from her eyes.

For her, it never should have been Rock Lee holding her.

For her, it had always been Sasuke.

For Sasuke, it had always been Naruto.

Between the mental toll from the surgery and now the physical exhaustion from sparring with Rock Lee, Sakura was unable to hold back the waves of expected grief and the tears it brought with it. At point, Sakura was sure that she was screaming, but she had disconnected from her reality. Logically, she knew it was a process that she needed to go through in order to heal, but that didn't mean she wanted to be present for her meltdown.

In that moment, Sakura was thankful for Rock Lee's presence. It meant she wasn't alone.

When she finally settled, her sobbing turned into hiccups, Rock Lee slowly withdrew his arms, almost as if he was unsure it was safe to do so. She opened her eyes and glanced up at the male who was still hovering with his arm still around her waist. He looked down at her with worry.

Before she could say anything, she heard a throat clear in front of her and Sakura was surprised to see Metal Lee, looking everywhere but directly at her, holding out a bottle of water. His cheeks were glowing a soft red which the pinkette thought was rather cute, except his presence meant he had seen her meltdown. With her own cheeks red, Sakura took the bottle and opened it. As the cool water hit her throat, Sakura flinched at how raw her throat was.

"Sakura-chan," Lee started, his voice soft in her ear. "Do what you do best. Fight. With your guidance, I was able to communicate my grief. I will help you do the same whenever you need it. However, talk with Sasuke-san, make him understand, even if you have to beat it into him. It seemed to have worked for Naruto-kun!"

Sakura chuckled, her eyes falling to the ground. He made a valid point.

Sakura stood up and wiped her face with her free hand. "Thank you, Lee," Sakura said quietly. After she brushed herself off, the pinkette turned to the DUO and smiled. "I'll think on your words. I'm glad you weren't injured too terribly, Metal."

Then she turned toward the hospital, her step surprisingly lighter than before.

Author's note: Aaaannnd that is a wrap on this chapter. I was going to commit to writing out the fight seen, but I chickened out sorry about that, but I hope you enjoyed! See you next time!

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12: The Hardest Part is Always Walking Away

Author's before-notes: I've had new story favorites with the last few chapter, so I hope this meets your needs 3 If you guys haven't heard Jeremy Renner's new album Live for now, you definitely should! I listened to it on youtube while writing this. That man is so underrated 3 I love him. Ahem, alright, shall we? Sakura and Sasuke's Separation chapter :D

"Neh, Sasuke-kun, let's spar," Sakura suggested casually while doing dishes.

She saw one onyx eye turn to her but the pinkette kept her eyes on her chore. "As soon as I'm finished here, let's go to a remote location so that we don't have to hold back, and let's spar. Like good old times?" Even to her ears, the last sentence sounded hollow but she had made her decision and she was determined to follow it through.

Hinata did it. Why couldn't she?

All the response she got was "Hn." However she heard as the Uchiha stood and started moving around their home.

20 minutes later, both ninjas were geared up and Sasuke's rinnegan was already opening a portal. She pulled her last glove on as she stepped through the swirling portal to reveal the barren landscape now surrounding her. Sakura recognized it to be the same place that Naruto and Sasuke had leveled during their last fight as enemies before Sasuke had lost. Fitting, she mused, stretching her muscles as she walked away from her husband.

Naruto had always said that he could feel what his opponent was thinking simply by fighting. Sakura had proved the Blondes theory multiple times over the years. Rock Lee was proof of that as well. As she turned to face her opponent and dropped into her fighting stance, Sakura hoped to prove both the blonde and Konoha's Green Beast correct once more. There were so many things she wanted to say to Sasuke, but words, she knew wouldn't be enough for what she was feeling. The pinkette wanted him to feel her love, her anguish, her hope for the future, and her determination to move past him.

After all, this was hers and Sasuke's last duel as a couple.

The world around her fell away as Sakura took a deep breath in, her fists tightening. As she exhaled, both she and Sasuke kicked off the ground.

Hit, hit, hit, block, block, block, hit, block, hit. Back and forth, the couple exchanged and blocked blows, each taking as much as they gave. Sakura could feel his bones breaking underneath her fists, and Sasuke could feel where there were delays in her defense that normally wouldn't have been. As their spar continued, Sasuke couldn't help but feel that perhaps Sakura was taking hits on purpose, almost as if punishing herself using him as the tool to do the damage.

As for Sakura, the medic nin poured her feelings into each attack. Her grief of losing her dream, her despair over losing her husband (no matter how superficial it had been), her happiness that Sasuke and Naruto are finally on the same page, and her hope for the future. After all, none of them were the same people as they were when they had started on their journeys together as genin.

After half an hour of the couple going back and forth, Sakura found herself laying on her back staring up at the sky. She was panting heavily, though it sounded more like wheezing. Sasuke was standing over her as the victor though he crumpled to his knees once that distinction had been noted. Both of their clothes were ripped as neither had held back but Sakura could admit that while she couldn't stand on equal ground like Naruto could, the pinkette had to admit that she could at least give the man a run for his money.

Sasuke looked exhausted.

After she pulled herself into a sitting position, she motioned for the dark haired man to join her. Without waiting for his consent, she immediately started healing his more severe wounds. However, Sakura made sure to keep her eyes down. She could admit to herself that she was half to look into Sasuke's eyes, afraid of what she would see there. Especially with what she had to say next.

"Sasuke-kun," she started, gulping her feelings down. "I'm officially kicking you out. I will also be filing for divorce and will make the Hokage approve it by the end of week."

"Sakura…"

She shook her head, stopping him from saying anything more. "Hinata-chan has finally left Naruto right? It's finally your opportunity to get to him before anyone else does, right?"

She hated herself.

That was all there was to it. Even she could hear the tremble of tears in her voice and it disgusted her to no end. She wanted to give her teammates, her family, her blessing. Yet it seemed that it took all she had just not to cry all over her husband. Still, while her voice was being traitorous, her eyes were drier than she'd thought they'd be.

Finishing her healing of any of the worst, Sakura lifted her emerald eyes to meet Sasuke's worried mismatched eyes. Slowly, to give him time to pull away from her, Sakura ran her hand, first through his bangs and pulled them out of his face. With one onyx and the rinnegan looking back at her, Sakura smiled softly at him in amusement. He was always so busy trying to repent, to show Naruto that he was sorry for the damage he had caused as a teenager, that the adult Sasuke had never taken anything for himself other than the continuation of his bloodline. All of team 7 (surrogates included) had spent so many of the early years protecting and defending Sasuke to the rest of the world. Taking the one hand that was holding his bangs out of his face, the pinkette shifted her palm to cup the Uchiha's cheek, her thumb rubbing back and forth. After taking one last look, Sakura retracted her hand just enough for Sasuke to think she was pulling back before she poked him in the forehead.

Sasuke's eyes widened for a moment before he gave her a small smile. "I'm sorry Sakura."

"Go. Tell Naruto-kun that I said you both have my blessing and the sooner he processes the divorce paperwork, the less the council will be able to say about your relationship," Sakura said softly, her chest feeling tight. However she couldn't tell if it was in pain or if it was merely releasing the stress the last several years caused her.

Sasuke held his hand out to her but she shook her head as she had no desire to go anywhere. "Hn." Reaching down, Sasuke grabbed one of her arms and threw her over his shoulder. As he opened a portal that led back into their home back in Konoha, Sakura felt an embarrassed blush creep up her face. He set her down on the couch before moving straight to the door, obviously eager to see their oldest teammate.

"Are you sure Sakura?" He asked, pausing at the door without looking over his shoulder.

She nodded, but remembering that his back was turned to her, she simply waved. "Go before I change my mind."

The pinkette watched as the Uchiha turned his rinnegan eye towards her before nodding and walking out the door.

Finally, that chapter of her life was closed and she could move on. She hoped.

Author's Notes: and the splitting up of couples is wrapped up 3 I don't know guys, I'm not as satisfied with this ending as I thought I'd be. Naruto's and Hinata's felt way more powerful than Sakura and Sasuke's, but this is what came out. I hope you enjoyed 3

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13: Coming together

Author's note: So the first 1714 words were all written while I was at work XD I did go back and tried to proofread it, but I admit that I'm not very good at re-reading my own work, but please! Do enjoy 3

It had been almost a week since team 7's sleepover and the end of Naruto's marriage. As Hokage, he had been able to quickly push the paperwork into completion, and although he had his (ex)wife's permission, the blond had continued to avoid a certain Uchiha. He hadn't been able to face his own reflection, much less see Sasuke. The Hokage had attempted to catch Sakura alone several times so that he could discuss it with her, but each time he had, Shikamaru had caught him by the back of his shirt on Naruto's way out the door, or Sakura was busy with a patient. Naturally, he couldn't interrupt appointments, especially traumatized children so each time he had sulked back to his office.

The blonde admitted that it was starting to drive him crazy. It took what little self control the Uzumaki had not to just go straight to the Uchiha and pour his heart out onto the floor with no hesitation. However, he wanted to do it properly. Sakura had loved their teammate just as long as he had. While he highly doubted it was on the same level or even the same kind of love as what he held, over the years, the hokage had learned that there were in fact different kinds of love and what each one had meant. For the amount of respect that he held for her, Naruto wanted her blessing, no matter how fleeting his relationship with Sasuke ended up being (yeah, he's still insecure after all these years. What of it?).

For the first few days, his son had been giving him ugly stares although the blond couldn't figure out why. His miniature child refused to say anything to him but frankly, there was already enough going on just in the politics of Konoha that he couldn't really afford to brood too long on what his son was upset about. So instead, he sent Konohamaru and his team on a C-class mission out of the village just to get the children out of his hair for a few days. Temporary, but effective.

Putting his pen down, Naruto turned his chair to look out the windows and he leaned back, simply wanting to bask in the sun for a few minutes. Closing his eyes, the blonde took a deep breath, and just as he released it, he could feel the air shift around him. He tensed for one moment before Sasuke's familiar chakra tingled over his senses, causing him to smile. The damn Uchiha and his Kamui. It was strange how warm that chakra signature made the Hokage feel. Although if he was honest, it was more of a turn on than a comfort, but he would never admit that outloud to anyone. It would be pried from him after his death. Even after all these years, it amazed him how good it felt to feel Sasuke's Chakra so close to his own. Knowing where he was, no matter where he went in the world had been intoxicating at first. This though, having him in the village, far surpassed that exhilaration.

Before Naruto could open his eyes and greet his best friend (afterall, you can't avoid them if they catch you in your office), he felt Sasuke invade his space. He felt Sasuke's fingers slide through his blonde locks to jerk his head backwards and something soft pressed against his lips. As his eyes snapped open, Sasuke ran his tongue along Naruto's lips, and the blond instantly opened for the dark haired male as a moan slipped out. As the two fought for dominance, Naruto's reason slowly returned to him and he immediately broke the kiss, pushing Sasuke away.

"What are you doing," Naruto seethed, one hand covering his mouth. He tried to both rub it out and savor it all at the same time.

Above him, Sasuke smirked at him and for a moment, Naruto was taken back to the first time he had seen Sasuke after 2 years apart. The difference from that time versus now was that while Sasuke was still looking at him with a predatory, calculating look, there was a heat in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Almost as if given the chance, he would attack Naruto, and the blonde wasn't sure if it would be a good thing or a bad thing.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," The older man replied, his voice low. His eyes flicked from Naruto to the door then back again. He held up one finger and Naruto watched as he walked over to the door and made a sign on the door that said, "BUSY. COME BACK LATER." Then he closed the door and locked it. The Uchiha made a few more signs for the Silence jutsu and by the time he turned back to the Hokage desk, Naruto was watching him with one eyebrow raised.

Dammit, the blonde couldn't help it.

When Sasuke got bossy on him and refused to tell him why, it turned parts of Naruto's brain (and body) on that he didn't know what to do with. Several years ago, Naruto had accidentally discovered that Sasuke didn't actually like to be in charge. Not really when you got down deep into his core. Sasuke's life, his circumstances, his chosen path in life had created a hard, prickly shell to protect his squishy insides. When his brother had murdered his family, Sasuke had thrown up shields and walls to protect the remains of his heart. After the war, as part of his sentencing, Sasuke had to attend therapy. It had been rough, but Naruto never let the other male go through it alone. He had to go through the appointment alone, but Naruto was there when he went in, and was always there when he came out.

Now as a "functioning" adult, Sasuke had the barrier between him and other people out of habit and most people didn't put the work into going past it. Naturally, Naruto had. So had Shikamaru, to Naruto's surprise. The two men had an odd friendship that seemed to work, but the blonde was grateful that Sasuke had Shikamaru at all. So, Naruto had learned when Sasuke needed to have his bossy front (which was 95% of all time) and Sasuke had learned that it was "safe" to relax with just Naruto. To allow the blonde to control much of their interactions, but eventually, the two of them simply fell into a pattern where Naruto took the lead, and Sasuke followed.

Needless to say, it had been a difficult road. In many ways, Sasuke had reminded Naruto of a cat, not that he would ever admit it to the Uchiha. Naruto liked his hide where it was at, thank you very much.

When the Uchiha walked back around his desk, Naruto kept track of him until he was fully turned around, Sasuke standing directly in front of him. "Is it true," Sasuke asked, his voice deeper than Naruto recalling it being. Upon seeing Naruto's confused face, Sasuke clarified. "About you and Hinata splitting?"

Naruto looked away, the subject still slightly tender. Even if he got what he wanted now, it had still ended with Hinata getting hurt. That was never something that he had ever wanted. However, with his eyes on the floor, Naruto nodded his confirmation.

"Then Sakura said, and I quote, "You both have my blessing and the sooner you process the divorce paperwork, the less the council will be able to say about your relationship"."

Sakura had approved? Sasuke had ended it with Sakura? Or was it that Sakura had ended it with Sasuke? Naruto allowed his eyes to search the other man's face, and it was there that he noticed the discoloration on Sasuke's left cheek and the dark haired man's dirty and torn clothes. Thinking back on it, the blond recalled a small coppery taste to Sasuke when he had kissed him.

"What happened," Naruto asked.

"Nothing serious. Sakura and I sparred."

Unsure if he heard Sasuke correctly, he rubbed both ears then asked the man to repeat himself. Sasuke simply laughed, leaning in for another kiss and Naruto melted into it. He said they had her blessing, and he knew Sasuke would never lie about that. Not knowing how important it would have been to him.

Naruto reached up to cup Sasuke's face, needing one moment, one second to simply appreciate and bask in the enjoyment of kissing his best friend knowing that this time, there was no reason why he couldn't. Neither were with their wives, and while he wasn't looking forward to explaining to his kids -

How would Boruto react? Positive, Naruto hopes, but that's for another time.

As the two pulled away, they rested their foreheads against one another. Naruto opened his eyes to see Sasuke with the softest expression he had ever seen directed at him. That particular look was usually reserved only for when Sasuke was feeling particularly squishy while looking at his daughter.

Years of dancing around one another. Years of things unsaid. Where did they even begin?

Sasuke had relayed Sakura's message, but he hadn't vocalized his own feelings. That was a good place to start. Perhaps Sasuke would be willing to play along with him. To hide his mischievous smirk, Naruto moved to press his lips against Sasuke's neck, right underneath his left earlobe.

As Naruto felt Sasuke gasp, he maneuvered them around, one arm branching out to shove his paperwork off his desk. He would convince shikamaru to help him reorganize it later. The blonde could also admit that it was super handy to have two arms versus Sasuke's one as he lifted the older man up and set him on his desk. Naruto didn't give him a chance to speak as the blonde covered his lips again. Letting his hands fall to Sasuke's legs, he pried them open, inserting himself between his legs.

As he ran his one hand up Sasuke's leg, Naruto ran his tongue along the other male's lips, asking permission for entry. Sasuke granted access and Naruto immediately started exploring his mouth, their tongues brushing against one another. Unable to help himself, Naruto moaned out his satisfaction. How often had he dreamed of this? How often had he dreamed of Sasuke being underneath him? How often had he dreamed of being able to run his hands over skin that would normally only be clothed? Skin that only Sakura had ever gotten to touch.

"Neh, Sasuke," Naruto mumbled softly as he pulled away, his lips already moving to pepper kisses over the older man's skin. "I love you." Naruto felt Sasuke's breath slam out of him and the blonde could tell that the older man seemed to hold his breath. So he took the opportunity to gently nip the skin directly over Sasuke's pounding heartbeat and his ears strained to hear the intake of breath from the male under him. "What about you?"

Rather than give the man the time to answer, Naruto immediately grabbed Sasuke's shirt and pulled it over his head. The blonde could see bruises already forming over Sasuke's pale torso from his spar with Sakura. Some of the scratches looked red, swollen and angry, as if they had been worse, but the hokage figured that the pinkette wouldn't have been able to leave her husband with the worst. So instead, Naruto leaned forward, gently kissing each bruise, each scratch on the male's body, gently. With each touch, the Hokage fused chakra, healing each ache and pain as he went. The blonde knew that he was not on Sakura's level, but one thing that had been implemented years ago was that all ninja were required to learn some level of healing. After all, you never knew when you would be separated from your medical nin.

He listened to each of Sasuke's responses. Some marks invoked a sharp inhale of breath, others invoked moans, but each time Naruto looked up, Sasuke's face was flushed, his mouth open as he panted and his sharigan was active while desire burned in his gaze. It did something to him, seeing the Uchiha's one dark eye turn red, to know that he was slowing down what he was seeing and committing it to memory. The Uchiha would remember this, and their closet experience for as long as he was alive. The blonde had to admit he was a little jealous of that. He knew he would remember for as long as he lived, but it would never be in the same detailed way that Sasuke would remember it.

Each time Sasuke would open his mouth, as if to say something, Naruto nibbled on his pale skin, sometimes soft, sometimes hard, as if to judge how the brunette would react. Almost as if he was learning which evoked the best responses and never allowing the other male's mind to be clear enough to speak.

As Naruto reached Sasuke's waist, the blonde took the opportunity to nibble above his pant line. At the same time, his hands worked quickly to undo the Uchiha's pants. Glancing up, his blue eyes touched the Uchiha's face as he slipped his fingers into Sasuke's pants, past his underwear. Slowly, as if to give Sasuke time to stop him, the blonde began to pull down his undergarments.

"Tell me Sasuke. You've never said and I can't read minds, "Naruto whispered softly, making sure that his breath fanned Sasuke's skin as he revealed more of the male's body to him.

When Sasuke's hard cock sprang from his clothes, Naruto kneeled to bring his face leveled to the lollipop in front of him. With Naruto's blue eyes still on him, the blonde leaned forward to blow on Sasuke's erection and grinned as he felt Sasuke's hand move from the desk where it had been supporting him, to his blonde locks where his grip was almost tight enough to make Naruto flinch.

"Neh, Sasu-chan, do you love me?"

Immediately, the desire in Sasuke's eyes shifted to give a hint of anger and embarrassment and he released his grip just to tighten it. Not giving him the opportunity to respond, Naruto's tongue snaked out of his mouth and wrapped itself around the head of Sasuke's cock. Then he wrapped his mouth around it, sucking.

"Yes," Sasuke moaned out, the word a loud gasp/moan making the blonde want to chuckle for a moment. However instead, the blonde focused on his task on hand. He owed the Uchiha from the other day. He had taken care of Naruto then, now Naruto was determined to take care of him.

In and out. Breathe. In and out. Naruto repeated the motion, his tongue running along the underside of Sasuke's cock. His tongue never stayed in one motion. He rotated between sliding his tongue underside, swirling around the head, and would often try to touch the male's balls with his tongue as he deepthroated Sasuke, taking him as far as he could. He tasted of sweat and hard work, but there was the underlying cleanliness that Naruto knew Sasuke worked hard to keep. A ninja never knew when the next time they would get a functioning shower so when it was available, one would never pass up the ability to simply feel clean.

"Naru-" Sasuke panted out, desire contorting his face. "I'm going to -"

Excitedly, Naruto reached up and gently rolled Sasuke's balls into his hands. As the older man began to thrust into Naruto's mouth, he hummed enthusiastically as he gave control of the speed over to the Uchiha. While Naruto wasn't overly experienced, even he knew this was a little fast for a man, but he wouldn't complain. In his hand, he felt Sasuke's balls tighten and the grip in his hair tightened impossibly more.

"Fuck, Naruto" Sasuke moaned out, warm fluids jetting down Naruto's throat. He greedily swallowed the salty cum and continued to suck Sasuke until there was nothing left.

When he let Sasuke's cock go, he leaned backwards onto the heel of his feets as he licked his lips and looked up at his partner. Sasuke was looking at him in wonderment, his face flushed and was panting heavily. Naruto watched as his sharigan faded back into his black coloring and the blonde couldn't help but grin.

"Enjoy yourself?"

Naruto watched as Sasuke's blush deepened and moved further down his body. "Shut up, Usuratonkachi," Sasuke snapped. Even as he stood and Naruto remained where he was, forcing the two of them to share the same space. "It's been a long time. Besides, where did you even learn to do that?"

Naruto shrugged as he pulled Sasuke's pants up for him and came to stand. "Clones. How long exactly, is a long time?"

Sasuke stared at him for a moment, almost as if he was picturing what Naruto had just told him, but then he stepped away from the blonde to pull his shirt back on and he mumbled something under his breath. "Sasuke, I can't hear you when you mumble quietly like that."

Naruto allowed the male to escape him and sat back down in his chair. Then he simply laced his fingers together as he rested elbows on his very messy desk. When Sasuke glanced over at him, Naruto refrained from chuckling as the man's face became a tomato. As the Uchiha walked over to where he had placed the soundproof seals, the man stated clearly, "No one has touched me since Sarada's conceivement."

Once the seal was removed, the dark haired man straightened his clothes to ensure that he looked presentable. Naruto remained silent as he processed the information that had been given to him. When Sasuke turned back to him, one hand on the door, Naruto lifted his eyes from his desk to look at his friend. "I merely tolerated what I needed to because I thought it was impossible with you so I figured I might as well continue my bloodline. It was a nice thought, to not be alone anymore. Once I had that, there was no reason for anyone to touch me in such a way. For me, it's always been you, Usuratonkachi. If it's not you, then it would be no one.

Sakura said she was kicking me out, so I'm going to move my things to your place. Unless you object."

The sudden change of subject had Naruto blinking his eyes dumbly for a moment before he grinned, nodding his head in acknowledgement. "I'll see you tonight then!"

"Hn," Sasuke responded. The two stared at each in amazement for a moment before Sasuke chuckled before turning away to open the door and he grabbed the do not disturb sign as he left the blonde to his duties.

Author's End Notes: *blushes* omg, that was my first time writing such explicit scenes. I have a newfound respect for my romance novels authors. I hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading 3

14: It's in Their Eyes

Author's before notes: Good day lovelies! I admit I scrapped and rewrote a few things as it progressed, and as previously stated this is un-proofread, so please be gentle in your correct. I know some of you have been waiting and have probably given up, so without further ado, enjoy 3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

"Sarada, how is your mom doing," Mitsuki asked, weeks later since the public had found out about the separations of the Uchiha and Uzumaki families and the reason behind it, during lunch.

Today found Team 7 sitting at the park under a tree, taking their break from a D-class mission. As much as the Uzumaki boy hated trash cleaning around the parks of Konoha, he could admit that he enjoyed the afternoon lunches under the trees. After all the chaos, the young genin were finding more pleasure in the smallest enjoyments of life that they usually took for granted.

As everyone involved had expected, once word had gotten out (which wasn't long since Sasuke wasn't seen far from their Hokage in recent days), it had spread like wildfire, and not just across Konoha. Even though it had been a short few weeks, visitors and long distance friends were reaching out to confirm the rumors that were spreading. According to some, there had been several Shinobi across the political world who had lost bets that had been placed upon the two prestigious men.

Both women seemed to have no care about the whispers and chatter that occurred wherever the Hyuuga Princess and Medical Director went. However, children were more perspective than adults were. As the Uchiha quietly took another bite to give her time to find an appropriate response, Boruto watched his teammate closely. In some ways, the blonde had to admit that it was fun to watch the wheels turn in his teammate's head. It was almost like you could physically see on her face the wheels turning her brain. However he had to admit he was curious as well. He knew how his mother was doing, which he questioned himself, but the pink haired Director was a very different person than his gentle mother.

"Mom," Sarada trailed off for a moment as if deciding on what information was appropriate to share. "Isn't doing well. She's spending even more time at the hospital, and if she's not at the hospital, you can find her one of two places. First is at home with multiple bottles scattered around her empty, and the second is at any of the training grounds, pulverizing the earth until nothing is almost left. She's either angrier than a bull, or drunker than a skunk. I'm not entirely sure how to help her. She isn't sleeping either lately unless it's because she's had too much to drink."

The team shared a moment of silence as each child took another bite to process the information that Sarada had shared. Then, quietly, as if unsure of whether he should share, Mitsuki spoke softly, "I saw something interesting a while back. I was passing the training grounds to head to the gates for a mission when I saw Rock Lee embracing your mom while she was crying really hard."

Sarada stiffened at the implication while Boruto choked on his mouth full of food. Sarada turned her dark gaze upon her teammate but allowed silence to stretch between them as she tossed around the idea of Rock Lee and her mother. In truth, the young Uchiha didn't know a lot about Konoha's Beautiful Green Wild Beast outside of rumors. She always assumed the man was nice, after all his son, Metal, wasn't too terrible of a person and he was progressing nicely as a genin. The boy had even come a great deal with his stage fright, which considering how paralyzed he used to get, was saying something. However, her knowledge of the Green Beast was limited.

Though if the young heir was to admit, she was starting to suspect that might be true of the entire generation before theirs. Their Hokage, her father. The whispers of lives lost during the War. From her understanding of history, there had been powerful, strong ninja's who had passed. Some with strength that had not been seen since. There was a voice in the back of her head that Sarada tried often to silence that always whispered to her. Perhaps our generation is over all weaker simply because of peace.

It was a traitorous voice that made itself known in her weakest moments.

"I admit that I don't know much about him," Sarada started, her eyes having shifted to stare down at her lunch. "But, mother let him hold her? While she was crying?"

"Hn," Mitsuki responded in confirmation.

"Then he might be worth looking into. Especially if she was crying," Boruto suggested, leaning on his crossed legs in thought. "Your mom doesn't strike me as the type of woman who would just let any man hold her, much less see her cry."

Sarada nodded her head in agreement as she swallowed her drink. "I haven't seen mom cry in a long time. Even when she's drunk, she just sits there, staring into nothing as if she's lost in her own head. It's like she's awake, but the lights are off, nobody is home."

Which found team 7 following the Jounin for several hours. They found that the man was loud and boisterous, but kind and seemed to always want to help. The genin had found themselves impressed as they had followed him to the training grounds and had watched him practice his taijutsu, which Sarada could admit was slightly terrifying. They had also found that the man was quite open with his affections with his son as well and Sarada could feel positive energy radiate from father and child with a fierceness that was intimidating.

However, as they watched the pair spar, Rock Lee seemed to have patience with his offspring that team 7 was not familiar with. Even when the boy failed the worst to complete his father's demands, the older Bushy Browed man never got angry. It almost seemed as if he understood the struggle that his son was experiencing, but how could that be? He was one of the best taijutsu fighters Konoha had to offer.

It was only later, after inquiring about Rock Lee from their Sensei did they learn the reason. Because Konoha's Beautiful Green Wild Beast had once broken his bones beyond possible repair during his Chunin exams. That it was only with the ability from the Godaime and his own determination, had his bones and muscles been reknit together and his taijutsu ability restored. To have your future taken from you with nothing left… It was a feeling Team 7 was beginning to understand well by now. The desire to get stronger. To protect the people closest to you, a risk of death was sometimes needed.

Therefore, that evening, when Sakura had not returned home from the hospital Sarada went in search of the Director. Since her shift had ended several hours ago, Sarada started with the training grounds as she knew that Sakura would sometimes go there first after a particularly hard day. She was proud of her mother, especially for the work that she put forth for the traumatized children of the ninja world.

With the defeat that had come initially from Deepa, Sarada was beginning to understand that treating the trauma that comes with the world was important. Afterall, deep inside, she was starting to suspect that her own restless nights stem from the harsh truths that she has been forced to learn since graduating the academy. It made her wonder what other deep issues lay in wait in the adults minds who went through the blood and carnage of war, and of the children who had been left behind.

While she could admit that it unsettled her, Sarada was determined to turn those feelings into a strength that she could use. She just wasn't quite sure how she was going to do that yet.

Returning her awareness to her surroundings, Sarada noted that she had arrived at the training grounds of Konoha, but there were no sounds of battle. Even as she walked through the grounds, there was no damage, no chakra, nothing but silence and the sound of her own footsteps.

Wait, no, that wasn't true. She could barely hear it. The sound of metal hitting metal, muffled by the sound of the waterfall that she knew was here. It was one of the few locations that had been remade after the war, though most people went there to relax, not to spar. Sarada walked into the forest, listening for the sound of metal clinking to get louder. However, not wanting to distract whoever was fighting, the young Uchiha remained hidden in the trees as she moved.

As the waterfall came into view, so too did two blurs, one green and one red, separating and coming together with the clanging that had drawn Sarada to this place. However, her plain eyes were not able to keep track of the two blurs as they moved, so Sarada activated her Sharigan and quickly muffled a gasp as the two figures motions slowed down under her gekkai kenkai.

Before her, Sarada's pink hair mother was covered in dirt, grime and blood. Her arms were covered in small slices and her shirt, almost quite literally, was hanging on by a thread with tears scattered throughout the material. Blood smeared near her lips and there was at least one gash or two on the Uchiha's face. Sakura's hair had a few sticks in it but her expression…. Was not one that Sarada could say she had ever seen on her mother's face. Cold and determined but her eyes were fierce, calculating, happy, focused, sober. Her breathing was ragged, yet strangely even. As if she had been fighting for a long time but was still able to maintain control.

The jounin known as Rock Lee, for who else could he be as the spitting image of his son, was not in a much different condition. His green jumpsuit had rips and tears scattered from head to toe and blood could be seen of varying levels of heaviness, but his usual orange attachments were missing. His speed was faster than anything Sarada had seen in Konoha before. His expression much matched her mother's, however something in the man's eyes made the girl pause.

They were also fierce, focused, happy, but they were soft. Sakura's eyes were hard, and upon closer observation, Sarada noticed that there was a distance in her eyes, almost as if Sakura wasn't really seeing Rock Lee. That was when the young Uchiha realized that underneath the initial happiness her mother's eyes reflected was the flame being fueled by an anger stronger than the grief that now seemed not far behind. However, in the Konoha's Beautiful Green Wild Beast eye's, they held almost a fondness for the woman they gazed upon. Almost as if wishing for her to do her worst. To allow him to take her grief and channel it for her as her tool, however she would allow.

As the image of these two ninja sparring burned itself into her memory courtesy of the Sharigan, Sarada forced her gaze away, feeling embarrassed and almost as if she violated their privacy. She felt like what she had just witnessed in the moment of time when slowed down, was far too intimate for her, muchless anyone else, to have witnessed.

Knowing that her mother was at least safe for now, Sarada turned away and as quickly and quietly as she could, scurried away. She did not want to impede on what seemed like a sacred time for her mother.

That woman suffered enough because of their family.

If a little bit of time sparring with someone who can look at her like that could help her, then so be it.

Notes:

I know I have been away from some time, and still both this story and the one that started it, It's In Their Eyes, are still getting follows and favorites, and I love you all for it. I have been dealing with major depession issues, work stress, family having covid (no one within my own household thankfully), writer's block, etc and it all sort of piled on top of each other until... well, let's just say that my world has not been that great lately. So thank you for reading this and sticking around. I will try to be more diligent but unlike some of my favorite authors that I read here, I do not have multiple chapters in line to upload. I am far too much of an impatient person for that, so as I have the inspiration to write and complete, you receive them almost immediately. I hope you can understand and forgive such lateness. I hope to see you for the next one 3 Stay safe out there

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Celebration of the Life of Jenny Phillips

I am going to set the tone by quoting an anonymous poem, to which I have taken the liberty of giving my own Title. 

On Grieving - Choosing the Low Road or the High Road 

You can shed tears that she is gone,

Or you can smile because she lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back,

Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her,

Or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,

Or you can be happy today because of yesterday.

You can remember only that she is gone,

Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back,

Or you can do what she would want,

Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Let us today choose the High road and celebrate the fact that Jenny’s life touched so many other lives in ways that will long be remembered by them.

 (I now hand over the celebration to Pastor Matthew.)

(following special music by Kevin and Katy)

Jenny - A Life Remembered

A eulogy (from eulogia, Classical Greek, eu for "well" or "true", logia for "words" or "text", together for "praise") that is a speech or writing in praise of a person.

Jennifer Mary Phillips, née Spy.

Spy! Let me explain that first. Jenny was a descendant of the MacDonald Clan of Glencoe. On February 13th, 1692, the Campbell Clan, being hosted at the time, turned on their hosts and massacred men, women and children. But, the story goes, a nursemaid managed to rescue a baby and carry him over the hills and down into the valley of the Spey River. To protect him, his name was changed to Spey. Somewhere in the family history one branch of the family removed the e and became Spy. Jenny’s dad, a senior civil surveyor with British Railways was the only Spy in the London Telephone directory. So my girlfriend and I backpacked on the continent with her passport reading “Jennifer M. Spy”. “ess, pay, egrecht! C’est tout” said the puzzled customs officer looking at this long legged young woman. British laws never seem to be repealed, so when she married me, she was no longer in fear of being killed by a Redcoat soldier.

———

It may seem an odd place to start, but let me begin on April 10th, 1952, my 10th birthday. Planned was a visit to a roller skating rink that afternoon. My mother cycled off that morning to get her hair done at the village shop. I waved. I never saw her again. She was hit by a car, fell on her head and I was told very much later that she had died a week or more later, still in a coma. Children of 10 were shielded from such things as death and funerals in those days. The concept of closure did not apply to children. 

In a village only a few miles away, a little 8 year old girl, called Jennifer Spy, cried inexplicably about the little boy who was now motherless, the only son of her family doctor, though she had never met him. Her mother recalled that odd event quite vividly. 

Jenny was a “surprise”, born 11 years after her brother and a very different person from him. He had been on mandatory military service in Aden and had got used to the offshore life of a young sailor of those days. Returning home, he repeatedly abused his little sister between the ages of 9 and 11, at which point he got married, and had two daughters and a son of his own. (We can only guess what happened there.) Threatened with goodness knows what if she told, she remained silent and traumatized, a deep scar which she would carry and would reverberate through the rest of her life. She never told her parents. When news of her brother’s death reached her many years later, her single comment was “Good Riddance”. So, full of caring and compassion as she was, what she would have liked to do to any child molester would have blanched even a medieval master torturer. 

When 13, Jenny, dissatisfied with her own church youth group, came hesitantly, at the invitation of a friend, to visit the Young People’s Fellowship of the Congregational church of which the Phillips family were members. She was shy, quiet and withdrawn but joined the group. I was 15, a chronically depressed (but children did not suffer depression in those days), acne faced, and morose teenager with an almost permanent frown. For some extraordinary reason, Jenny took me on as her project. I owe her an unpayable debt for very gradually winkling me out of my self built shell and giving me a reason to live. At the same time I gave her a purpose and a reason to try to emerge from her own trauma. I think we knew even then that we were soulmates and meant to be together. 

While many find it hard to believe, she was the classic introvert, very content to be on her own, in silence, reading or doing one of her many creative hobbies. An analyst would likely have concluded that she learned to extrovert while a teen, as a form of self defence. And she did it well, two rather different people in one. With a sizeable streak of unpredictability, often perplexing to others, I can assure you that as her partner in life, there were few dull moments. As we often noted, we were incompatible in many ways, but complementary and supplementary to each other in ways that we made work.

Jenny’s parents wished for their young daughter to have private dancing lessons, but she needed a partner. She shyly asked if I would be her partner. We were an ideal match. Over the next year or so, we took our Bronze, Silver and Gold medal exams in Ballroom, Latin American and Olde Time dancing, finally achieving a Gold Bar in Ballroom. Dancing at that level requires a high degree of unspoken communication which came in very useful in other areas of our lives. 

I went from Grammar School to Technical College to take courses in Geology which was not part of High School Curricula. Field Trips were a key part of the courses and I asked if my girlfriend could come too. Unencumbered by lawyers and third party liabilities, she came on nearly every Saturday excursion.

Story. We were in a pit in the sticky blue London Clay, looking for shark’s teeth, bivalves and other fossils. Our instructor, Doug, had just said that one rare fossil was a small crab, but he had never found one. A call from Jenny. “Do you mean like this one?” Doug looked at the crab in her hand, threw his hammer to the ground in half pretended frustration. He had been in the pit many times, yet this long legged young woman, not even a member of the class, had found the star fossil. Jenny’s attention to detail was remarkable. She noticed things totally missed by others and could have made a career of proofreading documents (other than mine) should she have wished to. 

At the Technical College I was elected to the Entertainments Committee and my girlfriend Jenny, though not at the College, nonetheless was coopted soon after. We ran some fairly large scale events and organized a Rag Week each year during which a large sum was collected for charities. (I ended up in a police wagon twice in a week, but that is another story. Not charged, just scolded and given a cup of tea.)

Story. At one event I was MC and introducing the numbers for Acker Bilk, the clarinetist, and his band, the year before he became internationally famous for “Stranger on the Shore”. Apparently, Jenny and some girls had been debating what Acker Bilk’s signature goatee would feel like, so at one point, between numbers, my girlfriend climbed onto the stage, walked up to him and asked to feel his goatee. He complied, and with a microphone right beside him, the entire assembly heard her say, “Oh that is really silky smooth”. Roars of applause, of course.

Some have said we were an adventurous couple. Jenny certainly was, but often I followed a little apprehensively. 

Story: Morocco, 1962. (What were our parents thinking!) We were on a bus, held together with wire and rope, bouncing down the rough road from Meknes, across the Atlas Mts to Ksar es Souk, a small hamlet on the edge of the Sahara Desert. With a packsack each, we were the only non Arabic faces on the bus, chickens dangling from the luggage rack, in the heat of the day. Everyone on a bus shares what they have with others and we had a supply of grapes on hand, obligated to eat whatever the heavily robed people around us passed to us. Jenny chatted (well, simple French) to a Monsieur Bengigi, who told us the single hotel was poor and invited us to stay at his house. We did. We were to sleep in the cool basement with the two manservants. But Jenny’s packsack mysteriously ended up in Monsieur Bengigi’s room. Jenny retrieved it. It somehow ended up there again and she retrieved it. In the end Monsieur Bengigi graciously took the hint. But the two manservants were just delighted. They got to see the English girl in her underwear and their boss did not. On reflection all kinds of things could have happened to us on that Moroccan adventure. Postcards were the only communication with home and we had no specific itinerary. We might simply have not been heard from again.

As a schoolgirl, her ADD was not recognized and she was repeatedly told that she was a poor student, which she came to believe. When I went off to university, she enrolled at the Leatherhead Secretarial School, where, almost to her surprise, she excelled. The school head sent her for an interview before graduation, and as her first job she was appointed secretary to the Remembrancer to the Lord Mayor of London, at Guildhall in the City. The remembrancer is responsible for ensuring that every ceremonial detail built up over the centuries was adhered to to the letter. The key event was the Annual Lord Mayor’s Banquet at Guildhall, attended always by the Queen and Prince Philip. Miss Spy, dressed in a gorgeous evening gown, attended these as one of many staff setting every detail in place. 

Story: At one of these, having completed her duties, she waited, backed into an antechamber doorway in the main corridor, to watch the Queen arrive. At the set time for the arrival of the royal couple, the door Jenny was leaning against was opened and she fell backwards, only to be caught by a strong pair of arms that lifted her back on her feet. She turned to find the Queen and Prince Philip laughing, quickly curtsied and said “Your Majesty”. Prince Philip said “Don’t worry my dear, we arrived a little early and caught them all out.” They then walked out into the corridor, guards snapping to attention. And that is how Jenny met the Queen and Prince Philip before any of the waiting toffs did.

With now separated lives to some degree, we did have other boyfriends and girlfriends. Jenny joined a Ukrainian Dance Group in London and, though I never saw it, performed in full costume with the dance group. A fellow assistant at the Guildhall, gay, a state that was precarious in those days, invited her to join him and his partner on a date and that began a long and fun relationship, she flanked by two handsome men and treated like a lady and they suitably disguising their relationship. They painted the town red together. One of her other boyfriends, more serious in intent, had a magnificent soprano voice and serenaded her from the lawn beneath her home window. I had nothing to compete with that. Sigh. Meantime, my university girlfriend was also a Jenny. Warning. Never have two girlfriends with the same name. To this day, I can hear my grandfather saying on the phone “Well, which are you, Jenny S or Jenny C.” OMG, I’m in trouble now. 

We married on September 11th 1965. Jenny arranged the whole thing, crossing traditional boundaries and ignoring the even then flourishing wedding industry. I was on the Isle of Man busy with research towards my PhD. As a result, I heard her say that she would “love, honour and cherish me” with no mention of that “obey” word. Big mistake, though come to think of it she wouldn’t have obeyed me anyway. She did take suggestions. 

She spent the summer of 1966 as my field assistant, surveying, SCUBA diving and joining me in my habitual all over tan. We rented, for 5 pounds a week, an old building on the shore, once the location of the landing of the telephone cable from the mainland. Water from a standpipe a field away, toilet anywhere below mean tide level, ancient propane gas stove, one hurricane lamp and a lumpy mattress on the floor. We made our own crab hooks and a lobster pot and roamed the shore at low tide. 

With the status of “PhD pending”, I applied to universities all over Britain only to receive the reply “3 to 5 yrs experience required”. My supervisor, himself moving to Canada, suggested getting experience abroad. Much against my English upbringing I wrote to Canadian and American universities touting my abilities. A new university, Lakehead, offered me an interview in a hotel in London, and was the first to offer me a job, “Lecturer” at $8,300 a year. My advisor said “Take it. You can move later.”. We were en route to Canada, at least for a few years. 

Emigrating is adventurous enough but we did rather add a certain style to it. All that we owned was packed in the hold of the Manchester Exporter when it caught fire 200 miles off Ireland and limped back to Liverpool, its holds partially filled with sea water to quench the fire. After a 27 hr Greyhound Bus journey from Montreal to Port Arthur we were greeted with a telegram. “Regret, all is lost”. We had arrived for our new life each holding a suitcase. It could have been a disaster to our young marriage. Instead it bonded us further. “We can do this.”

Jenny had long legs (the only reason I asked her to marry me, I claim) and arrived at LU to find she wore the shortest skirts by far, Port Arthur fashions lagging behind the UK. Many years later people recalled her short skirts and black and white Mod dresses. “Two inches below C level” was the Brit expression. 

Kevin was born in July 1968, six weeks premature (but surely nothing to do with portaging a canoe the previous weekend). Our earliest photo is of Jenny feeding him in the hospital where he spent the first two weeks of his life. 

Warned not to have another baby unless she risked not walking again, we, as Jenny put it, consulted the Eaton’s Catalogue, and Jacqui joined the family as a tiny baby. Adoption in those days was an uncomplicated process, though during our 6 month “probation” Jenny lived in concern, needlessly, about having her taken back.

Jenny became the classic stay at home Mum, a financial possibility in those days. She never regretted having been there when the kids came home from school. She was moderately strict, with established boundaries and consequences of overstep made perfectly clear. We must have done something right, for both our kids grew up to be responsible, nice adults with long term marriages, despite our total lack of training at child rearing and without the assistance and advice of nearby grandmothers. 

We very nearly came apart at the nine year point, one arena of our marriage not going at all well, as can be imagined. So, we sat down and both wrote a list of Pros and Cons and rank ordered them. What we had together far outweighed the Cons. We looked at each other and said “We can do this.” And we did. A long marriage built upon friendship, companionship and trust. 56 years! (As my Dad noted it depended how one said that. I inherit my sense of humour from him. I am entirely his fault.)

It was a long process, but I gradually persuaded Jenny that she had far more ability than she had so often been told. I babysat while she apprehensively enrolled in her first evening course at LU. She loved it and that began 14 yrs of evening courses, taking a wide range of courses that happened to be available in the evenings. Ironically, that is the kind of education universities were first established for. With her BA General degree (no Major) I often described her as “She’s the one who is educated, I’m simply piled higher and deeper.” Our kids dubbed her “Curious George” and her thirst for finding out new things and trying new things never wavered. I often referred to her as “The Oracle” and depended on her for her special love of words and etymology. “What word would you use to ….” “Ah, that’s just right, thank you.”

Among the many creative skills she had was that of acting. She took the lead role as Hedder Gabler in Cambrian’s production of Ibsen’s difficult play and in a lighter production of Ring Around the Moon. But her starring role was as Queen Elizabeth the 1st in costumed concert productions of the Consortium Aurora Borealis. First appearing as a comely Lady in Waiting in the court of King Henry the 8th, she took the regal role of Queen Elizabeth the 1st in her stride, a number of times. At one concert, she delivered, wholly from memory, the famed Speech to the Troops at Tilbury, initially delivered on 9 August 1588 to the land forces assembled at Tilbury in Essex in preparation for repelling the expected invasion by the Spanish Armada. As she ended, there were those amazing few moments of utter silence before thunderous applause. 

Story: The occasion was the Mayor’s Annual Luncheon, not long after the infamous Mayor Assef had patted the visiting Queen Elizabeth the 2nd on the bum and thanked Prince Philip for bringing his charming wife. We, as Queen Elizabeth 1st and Lord Cecil (one of her close advisors who actually died a natural death), were invited to attend as part of the entertainment. We devised a graceful dance routine that certainly looked historically appropriate, frightfully regal, and with me with a white handkerchief fluttering in my hand. Later, Mayor Jack Masters invited the Queen to cut the huge cake. But, her voluminous skirts were such that she could not get close enough to the table. Jenny haughtily announced, “My man, I command you to cut the cake on my behalf.” Jack took the big knife and stretched across the table to reach the far side of the big slab cake. At which point, improvising as ever, Jenny very obviously looked at his bum, then looked at the audience, and, folding her fan, gave his bum a smart tap. The inference was so obvious. The audience broke up and Jack could not stop laughing. Jenny’s face remained regal and unsmiling. She had taken just revenge.

We both got in trouble from time to time because of our British sense of humour, particularly a play on words or the “double entendre”.  We blamed it entirely on our upbringing. We held a pot luck and our neighbour arrived at the back door, oven gloves holding a hot tray. “You should feel my hot buns” she said as she came in. Tempting, but really not plausible in the circumstances.

We seem to have had the bad habit of picking up “Sorta Daughters”, all three of which are with us today. For various reasons, they came to live with us for a year or two until their lives straightened out enough to move on. And, all these years later they still often refer to us as Mum and Dad. I suppose the most obvious is Mabel, who came to Canada age 15. I recall well, the odd looks in the grocery store as Mabel called out across the aisles “Mum, should we get some of these.” On one occasion, unable to resist, I looked directly at one puzzled woman and said seriously “It must have been the delivery man.” On the birth of her first son she rang us. “Mum, Dad, you have a black grandchild”. Zephaniah, 20 months, with us today, is our third.

Initially attracted by the field of Social Work, Jenny completed her HBSW at LU, but quickly decided that it was not quite for her. I was granted a 6 month sabbatical to do research and write papers in the Winter of 1999. In a bold move Jenny wrote to the head of the Pastoral Care program at the huge Breckenridge hospital in Austen, Texas, asking if she could apply for a 4 month Chaplaincy Internship, a very forward looking and respected program. She was admitted. I then wrote to the University of Texas asking if I could come to do research and writing on campus, no office required. I received a magic card titled “Visiting Scholar”, a card with which I could enter any of their 15 libraries, use the student union facilities and even hang my coat in the Geology Department if needed. In appalling weather, we abandoned Kevin and Jacqui, technically old enough to fend for themselves, and drove down to Austen, Texas. After a short hotel stay, we had an unfurnished apartment, rented basic furniture, signed out paintings from the Austen Public Library and set up a temporary home. 

The internship was a very thorough and gruelling one, and she found herself chaplain to the Adult ER and to the Children’s Emergency Ward, meeting helicopters landing on the roof, present in operating rooms and at the side of people dying. She was partnered with an Oblate Brother, Patrick, close to our son’s age, whom she referred to as her “Priestling”.  Several years later on a visit to see her Mum in the UK, she flew to Rome and stayed at the Oblate Residence in the Vatican where Patrick was now studying. One day he asked her to join him at Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica.  She was going to sit while he went forward, but he motioned her to join him and so, though not Roman Catholic, she took Communion and, as Patrick commented afterwards, apparently said all the responses at Mass. Some things are not easily explained. We expect Patrick to be Pope one day.

Returning to Thunder Bay, she became the first Chaplain at the Cancer Centre, then attached to the Port Arthur Hospital campus. She roamed the corridors and wards talking with patients and nurses (who are also in need of pastoral care), meeting with families in the privacy of her office and helping many people die peacefully. 

Ultimately, she left and became a Grief Counsellor for Blake Funeral Chapel. I thought  of it as out of the frying pan into the fire, but as Jenny said, now she was helping families deal with their grief, very different in her view. She retired in 2001 when I did, apparently not ready to keep me in the style to which I was accustomed. 

I am immensely proud of her work as Chaplain and Grief Counsellor. No disrespect intended to chaplains who are are retired clergy, but the Breckenridge internship program taught Jenny to act as a non denominational, all and no faith counsellor. She quietly studied world faiths to gain some understanding of them, ready to talk to anyone. Long after she retired, people would come up to her in the mall or street and thank her. She seemed to have a label above her that read “Compassionate”, for quite often I would find her in earnest conversation with a complete stranger, recognize that she was in counselling mode and wait patiently at a distance until she was finished. 

Story: Told against herself. One of her grief counselling visits was to see a man who had recently lost his long time male partner. During their chat he tearfully told her that he he simply could not bear to look at his partner’s urn and had put it away in the closet. Ever unpredictable, Jenny said, “Well, in the circumstances that seems eminently appropriate.” They both belly laughed uncontrollably. When her client recovered, he said he felt so much better, opened the closet door and placed the urn on the mantle shelf. Well, that is one form of grief counselling!

When the new TB hospital was built, MEMO was given the opportunity of removing unwanted equipment from the Port Arthur and the McKellar Hospitals and sending it to Cuba. Never having learned to say “No” convincingly, we spent two months of one summer inventorying every piece of equipment, assigning individual codes and building a huge Excel spreadsheet for each hospital. It was at times eerie, wandering the silent corridors and exploring the sub basements, crammed with parts and broken bits. It was a huge job, much bigger and more complicated than anyone had realized - analog X-Ray machines, darkrooms, huge steam autoclaves…..But, we did it - together. 

Jenny was proud to be a Rotarian. She was nominated by the Salvation Army member of my Club, who knew her well from her Chairmanship of a Salvation Army committee. The club was all male. She was denied membership without explanation. Denial is usually because the candidate is known to run an unethical business. Her nomination was submitted again. Denied again, but this time the Salvation Army member broke protocol and demanded a full explanation from the Board. They had none. Jenny became the first female member of the Club. A long time member had said to her that he would resign if she was made a member. Jenny replied “What a pity, I’ll miss you.” After attending one District Conference, she was well known.

Long practiced at working together, we were soon appointed Co-Chairs of District 5580 Youth Exchange Program, a volunteer task we did together for 7 years. District 5580 covers North Dakota, Minnesota north of the Twin Cities, part of Michigan and part of NW Ontario. We travelled extensively through this huge area, visiting clubs and conducting Outward Bound interviews of High School candidates thinking of going abroad for a year. We also initiated contacts with our equivalent officers in many countries, seeking to exchange Inbound students, who would be hosted by members of 5580 clubs and study in local high schools. It was a huge task but an immensely rewarding one. A year abroad is life changing and we have many thank you letters from District students and foreign students of many countries telling us how this experience impacted their lives, matured them and opened new opportunities for them. We had only a small office budget, no travel expenses, so we spent many hours and dollars in this work. One year, we brought in students from 29 countries, our record. Jenny was an ideal “den mother”. Of necessity, even then, I remained aloof, leaving the hugging and touching to Jenny.  Of course, once again, the way we operated Youth Exchange would be impossible today. We never went through any security checks. We were asked to do a task and expected to do it well, and within the ethical context of Rotary International. The whole program is now centralized in an entirely different way. 

I retired in December 2001 and Jenny said “We need to leave town and make a clean break.” We took our trailer out to BC for Kevin and Katy’s wedding and then spent several months exploring the west coast, turning inland before reaching San Francisco. At Easter we found ourselves in a primitive campground called “Hole in the Wall”, about 15 km into the Mohave Desert National Preserve. Water, but no sewer or electricity. The staff at the Visitor Centre, said “If you want sewer you can come back as a campground host.”

We applied to the National Park Service, equipped our trailer with a solar panel and for the winter’s of 2003 and 2004 were campground hosts, and a lot more. We operated the Visitor Centre at times, raising and lowering the American flag and learning to fold it in that triangle and not let it touch the ground. We were given one day a week to explore on our own, the more we knew about the huge area the better. We asked whether we could run a field trip on Saturdays, present a powerpoint slide show in the evening and were permitted to. Our supervisor told us that a field trip down the Hole in The Wall Canyon should not be longer than 1 hour and should have a theme. Our theme was “Everything of interest to be seen on the trail” but we did not tell her that. Some Saturdays we would return to the Visitor Centre 2 hours or more later, still answering questions from our group of visitors. Jenny had quickly learned much about the desert floral and faunal assemblages and I focussed on the geology, geomorphology and archaeology. 

We somehow surpassed ourselves and annoyed someone in a head office miles away by completing a plant trail between the campground and visitor centre swiftly and efficiently, a project that head office had been mulling for several years. If asked, Jenny would sum up the NPS as a “bit anal”.

Coincidentally (or otherwise) we volunteered to take part in Earth Day at the school in Needles, the nearest community to which we had been going to for their weekly Rotary meeting. It was quite an experience, and confirmed that I should be teaching adults. The enthusiasm and energy of those three classes we took was exhausting. Recovering in the teacher’s common room afterwards, a lady from the Bureau of Land Management came over and said, “If you ever want to work for us, let me know.” 

From 2005 to 2014 we worked as volunteers for the BLM out of Needles. The first year we arrived, they showed us a list of projects that their small underfunded and understaffed office could not handle. “Where would you like to start” we were asked. Well, the Crucifixion Thorn does not, according to the book, grow in California, but they had a report of one perhaps being seen in a wash. We were assigned office space and a 4 wheel drive vehicle, given radio call in codes with San Bernardino Dispatch, and off we went. Three weeks later we had located, GPS’ed, photographed and health assessed 53 Crucifixion Thorn bushes growing down the wash. We set it up as a repeatable survey, to be conducted again at a later date so that the health and future of these rare plants could be assessed. “What would you like to do next?’ 

Staying in a small campground every year we did numerous projects, driving and walking all across the huge Mohave Desert. It was a win win situation. We got to explore the desert and photograph plants, snakes, scorpions etc in a Federal Government vehicle which, in theory, could be located if we did not radio in by 6.00pm (but in the mountains radio contact was often not active). The BLM got well documented research reports, for free, in return. We were asked by someone why we were not armed when out in the desert. Said Jenny, “There is nobody else out there but us.” In fact we did meet a couple of desert dwellers over the years, anti government, anti social people who sought isolation. Very interesting people, though perhaps more than a little crazy. 

Jenny did much of the 4W Driving while I navigated. I wish you could see one of the short videos I took of us driving up narrow canyons, way beyond the point at which I would have stopped, sometimes leaving me wondering how we would ever turn around. More than once we got centred by a big rock, all four wheels off the ground. Jenny leaped out, laughing, to take photos while I leapt out to assess how we might jack ourselves out of this one. One valley we needed to enter was blocked by a huge boulder. Jenny tightened her seat belt so that she could not slide into the passenger seat and drove up the side of the wash such that the truck was at a perilous angle before rounding it successfully. I was out of the truck taking the photo. 

Another time, crossing a large playa (a dry lake bed), Jenny wondered “What would it be like to drive at 60 mph with one’s eyes closed?” She aligned the vehicle, closed her eyes and accelerated. My hand hovered over the wheel ready to steer if necessary. At the 60 mph mark she kept going, the far shore approaching rapidly. “Stop, stop” I urged. Just in time.

Our winters in the south were halted with Jenny’s diagnosis of breast cancer in mid 2014. That winter we added a ground floor extension to the house and, unable to wield a hammer, she acted as researcher and orderer of all the things we needed. She was pronounced cancer free after surgery and breast reconstruction. Her oncologist retired shortly after and she did fall between two stools, failing to obtain regular follow ups as a result. Breast cancer patients are often told that once past the 5 year mark they are safe. Not so. It is not that the doctors are untruthful, but cancer cells can mask themselves as other cells and lurk in the shadows undetected. Jenny would be the first to urge you all, whether female or male, to firmly insist on regular check ups.

A diversion. The number of times I have found myself saying “OMG, I can’t take her anywhere” is legion and the stories numerous. Today, two memorable ones comes to mind.

Story: Driving down to Duluth, Jenny exceeded the speed limit on the divided highway just before the city. A sheriff’s car appeared out of nowhere and pulled us over. A tall, rather handsome young officer approached. “Who owns this vehicle?” “I do” said Jenny. “Who’s your passenger?” “My husband” said Jenny. Clearly surprised that the man of the family did not own the vehicle, the officer proceeded. “Your age, height and weight, Ma’am?” Jenny said “Do I have to tell you?” “Yes” he replied. Jenny gave him her stats and he wrote a ticket. “Do you have any questions, Ma’am?” “Yes” said Jenny, “What’s your age, height and weight?” I had visions of police cells, but without blinking, he replied giving his details. “Thank you” said Jenny, “and very nice too.” We continued our journey.

Story: We were at a cross cultural wedding, half the congregation ebony, half pink. After the ceremony, while people milled around in the lobby before setting off for the reception, Jenny suddenly appeared in the middle, a tall, handsome black man on each arm. At which point she exclaimed loudly “Look, Oreo Cookie”. Everyone laughed. Again, I heard myself say, “OMG, I can’t take her anywhere.” 

On our adventures in China in 2018 and in Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand in 2019, her painful hip sometimes limited her and she chose to rest rather than see every detail of the places we were visiting. She had both rheumatoid and psoriatic arthritis that was clearly getting worse. In hindsight, the bone cancer was probably already developing. We planned a less taxing trip to South America for 2020, but Covid intervened and, asthmatic and bronchitic since childhood, we went into voluntary isolation and I into a very restricted lifestyle to protect her as much as possible. She was perfectly happy at home. 

In early 2021 her arthritis was much worse and then, in July, her ribs and her back began to be very painful. This was more than arthritis. A CT scan was booked for September 30th, many weeks ahead. We received four changes of date for a follow up at the hospital, the last for October 21st before we would know the results of the scan. 

On October the 12th her pain was so intense that she was taken to emergency. After checking for heart etc, the emergency doctor suggested a CT scan and Jenny told her she had just had one. The doctor went to check her files and returned ashen faced. “You don’t know?” She asked. There, in the file, dated September 30th, was the report stating that her 2014 breast cancer had metastasized to her hip, ribs and spine. To find the out in the ER was shocking. Two days later she had her first appointment in the Cancer Care Centre. 

Our aim was for her to become well enough and less affected by the many side effects of her medications, so that she could enjoy her garden in the summer, but that was not to be. She became increasingly confused, delusional at times, and it seems that her cancer had metastasized to her meningeal fluid, from which every organ can be reached. On the Friday she was Jenny, a bit out of it at times, on Saturday she was unable to communicate at all and on Sunday she transitioned from life to after life. But, her very great wish was achieved. She passed at home, with the view of the Giant, her two dogs on the bed, her small family with her and her soulmate tending to her as promised in our wedding vows. She chose her own moment to leave.

There was much potential life in her yet, but her premonition that she had not long was right. We had hoped for years, but it was eight months only. We had plenty of time to talk so we parted complete. Yes, a great loss, but we started today by deciding to take the High road. She made the best of the baggage she had to carry, she helped and influenced many people, she was a good mother and a loving partner in life. 

A life well lived. A life to celebrate.

————————-

(Back to Pastor Matthew)

July 27th 2020

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Comms

Title: Comms

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN! Teen reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: PG

Warning: Cursing, mention of wounds, blood, scared Mando.

Description: In an unexpected raid, Din finds himself unable to find his foundlings and searches for them.

Request: Hey! I love your stories and thought that I would submit a request myself. So this is about Din having a teen foundling/adopted child. They’ve known each other for a little over a year now and even if they don’t show it a lot they’ve grown attached to each other. So this particular story would be about the foundling nearly dying and Din being a scared Dad (I hope you get what I’m going for. Kind of a fluff/Angst story with comforting afterwards😅)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took forever to write, I've been travelling and my computer has been messing up so I have not had time to write at all. Anyways, here it is! I hope it's to your liking. It took me awhile for inspiration to hit but I am pretty happy with how it ended up. Enjoy!

....

“Okay kid, what do we do when we get in trouble?”

“Call for help and signal our location.”

Call for help and signal your location. That was all you were supposed to do, the one rule Din gave for you before he took you along with him anywhere outside of the safety of the Razor Crest. He considered himself lucky that you rarely wandered off without letting Din know where you were going, and that you always seemed to be able to handle most dangerous situations on your own. Maybe it was because you fretted to be too much of a bother for Din, seeing as he took you in almost a year ago when he could have easily left you. Din didn’t see it that way, if he was honest. You were valuable to the group, taking care of Grogu and the ship when Din could not, and he believed it his duty to protect all on the ship. Only once or twice did you call for him, and he was quick to come to your aid.

He did not think that today would be the day where his timing risked your life.

The Mandalorian found himself aiding a local trading village with a raider issue in exchange for information about a bounty he’d been pursuing. He’d led a group of men over to what they’d suspected to be the raider’s hideout and set up for an ambush. The Entrance of the cave’s dunes felt barren, and only after the mens’ legs grew sore from crouching and backs ached from huddling in the dark was it that Din began to suspect something was wrong. The quiet environment was abnormal behavior to the raiders he’d encountered before, no doubt this specific group would be any different.

“They’ll see you!”

Startling the men surrounding him, Din shot into the air and stalked the vicinity. The dunes’ walls stretched for meters long as he kept his piece raised, occasionally scanning weak spots for life forms or any piece of equipment. He paused, frowning a moment when his scanner detected nothing.

That was the first sign that things weren’t going as planned that day.

“...hiss…”

“...m..do... v.llage... here…”

There was the second.

Din raised his arm to speak into his comms.

“Y/N?” Nothing but static came back from the comms. Din fidgeted and smacked it a couple times before grunting in frustration.

Damn, comms were jammed.

Wait, they were jammed.

And in a moment of a horrible realization, Din was quick to grab the men and make their way back to the village. When they arrived they found the village in chaos- buildings were burning, villagers running, and materials and pieces and bodies strewn across the ground. For a moment, Din froze in fear and worried that you were on the ground as well, your comms still ringing static and Grogu taken from you, lost to the raiders, or worse, the Empire.

Din quickly made his way throughout the village, barely rounding the first corner when a group of raiders assaulted him. He threw punches at the first raider, using their momentum to kick them hard into another. After several dodges and shots from his blaster, most of them were dead aside from one that laid on the ground and clutched his blasted leg.

Din marched over and pressed his blaster against the wound. “Where are the hostages being held?”

As it turned out, the raiders had no plan of keeping hostages. When Din finally tracked the building where captives were supposedly held, he was unable to remain collected when he found that you and Grogu were nowhere to be found. Instead, he stood before raiders responsible for the attack, their blasters disturbingly put away as they argued amongst one another. Din didn’t bother listening, he looked around but saw no sign of his foundlings.

“Wrong door.” He said simply before taking out his blaster and shooting the raiders.

Pocketing his piece Din ran out of the stronghold and went outside, calling for you and Grogu. He thought about the worst possible scenarios that could have happened to you two as he took out the raiders pillaging the village, until all but one remained, the leader. He found him in the main courtyard of the village, his face hidden though his body seethed with labored breaths. He stood there for several moments before Din heard one last labored breath before the leader’s legs buckled beneath him and he slumped to the ground with a sickening crack of skull on stone. Hm? Din didn’t know what to make of this, and further stalked over, hand on blaster, examining the body. Upon closer look a blaster wound to the stomach was made more visible. So, someone got to the leader before Din could. That leaves the question… who?

A quick look around the area pointed out a trail of blood.

The Mandalorian followed this trail without any real reason behind it.

He found the remainder of the villagers at some point along the way. Sullen masses of faces mixed together, mourning the loss of their villages and lost ones but kept busy with treating the wounded. Women sat in huddles cooking with what food was salvaged and children sat quiet. One stood out apart from the rest in Din’s eyes, a large male leaning over a group of medics. Din recognized him as Cyrukee, the villager’s chief, who noticed the lone bounty hunter from the corner of his eye and stood up. In his arms was the most beautiful thing Din had seen all day, Grogu. The baby gurgled in joy as he walked up to the chief.

“There you are.” Din didn’t realize that he was holding his breath when he sighed in relief, taking Grogu into his arms.

“Sir.” Cryukee barely got a word out before Din turned to him.

“I’m looking for a youngling- my kid. Have you seen them?”

“Sir, please.”

“They’re this tall,” Din rears a hand near to your height, “they were with this little green baby. Your husband, he took them to the school. Where is he?” The Mandalorian made a full turn around to look for the red robed headman who was last responsible for your care. He reached for his comms and tried to reach you again. His voice rang back at him, and in a terrible moment of realization he realized that that was your comms.

“Where are they?”

“Sir, let me explain.” Cyrukee wore an exasperated expression and looked as though he was about to speak before one of the medics from the group he was with requested to speak with him. He spared a glance at Din as though he struggled whether or not to say something. And then, Din followed his arm towards the medics he was just with. Din didn’t know what to make of it, not able to recognize any of them. The Mandalorian took one last look at the chief, whose grave expression gave him reason to worry, and slowly walked towards the group of medics. He buzzed through the comms, trying to pinpoint your location. As he got closer he heard medics speak in soothing voices and their patient hyperventilating. Had it not been his own voice coming from the center of the personnel he would have moved on, instead he could not find the will to move. Grogu looked at him expectantly.

One medic in particular took notice of the beskar-armored man. He and some others quickly got up and pushed Din away before he could force his way through the medics to take a look at you.

“Hey, wait-wait-please.” Din grunted at the force and staggered several steps back. He took a moment to collect himself and Grogu sneezed in his arms. Dust must have gotten into his nose during the scuffle. “Please, my ward- my kid. That’s my kid.”

“Just a moment,” one of the bloodied nurses kept her hands on Din’s chestplate longer than he would have liked. He didn’t push her away though.

“I need to see my kid.” Din looked her in the eye, hoping that she could see his desperation through his helmet.

His kid. When Din looks back on this he would think about how he’s never referred to Y/N as his own before. He would have liked to think he said that so the nurses allowed him to pass easier. But deep down, he knew it was because of how much he cared for them.

“I understand but please let me explain. Sir, Sir!” Din retreated in defeat on his second attempt to get past her and the other nurses. She stared into his eyes and patted his shoulders, Din didn’t know whether she was trying to comfort him or control his movements. “They’re traumatized enough right now, and you moving around in that armor of yours will only make it worse.”

“What happened to them?”

“They had an encounter with Jetwal,” Din’s blood boiled at the recognition of the raider’s leader who’d died before him. “according to the children, your child was leading them to the outskirts when he found them. They killed him, he was threatening the children, and they shot him. Now, listen to me. They did get injured. Several blaster wounds to their limbs and upper torso- sir, listen please I cannot allow you to go to them just yet- they’re still panicking right now but I assure you their wounds are being treated right now. They’ll be fine, but disrupting our work will only inhibit us from treating them properly.”

She watched his gaze linger to the sound of your crying. “How much longer until I can see them?”

Din was not pleased to find that he was only allowed to see you when the nurse came for him herself. Reluctantly he walked a little farther away from the medics when asked to give them more space, and sat down with Grogu bouncing on his knee next to a young Twi’lek running their hands over their lekku to soothe themselves. Between glancing at the medics to keeping Grogu entertained, Din didn’t realize how much time had elapsed before noticing the nurse had come to his side to collect him.

She took a seat next to him. “They’re hurt very badly, but with time their injuries will heal. All they need to do is rest. You can see them now.”

Grogu giggled and played with the nurse’s finger that was threateningly wiggling on his little tummy. “Can you take him for a moment?”

Din stood up and gave Grogu a pat on his little head and rubbed his large ears out of habit. Something you used to do to calm the little green alien down after a terrible meltdown. Even under his helmet Din smiled at the alien before dredging towards you. You laid on a pile of fabrics that functioned as a makeshift cot, but you looked like you had a pile of fabrics on you with the amount of bandages that wrapped your body. You didn’t notice Din approaching you as you stared straight into the sky. Din wondered what you were thinking. What could you be thinking? From his knowledge, this was your first time dealing with major injuries from blasters. It must have made this whole ordeal so much more frightening to you.

Maybe Din was too light on his feet, recoiling instantly when you jolted at his touch and groaned in pain.

“It’s me, it’s me.” His voice was soothing, even more than normal which surprised him.

A sort of wheeze escaped your lips and you coughed. “Mando.”

“Hey kid.”

“I tried calling for you.” A gasp. “They jammed the frequencies.”

“Your message barely came through, kid. But it made us realize what was going on. We got here before more damage could be done because of you.”

Your form relaxed. “Good, good. Grogu?”

“With a nurse.” “The one with the sweet voice.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked her voice-” A cough. “Sounds like my mom’s. She was nice. She helped calm me down.” At this point Din had stared at you long enough to realize how puffy your eyes were from crying. He didn’t stop himself from reaching over to brush your H/C hair out of your face. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m pretty fucked up, huh?”

Your eyes were already locked onto his when he met your gaze. A tick passed, and Din’s eyes fell to the wounds you were referring to. He shook his head. “No, kid. That’s not what you are.”

“Feels like it.” Din scowled at your words.

“There are too many fucked up people in the galaxy, kid. You´re not one of them.” You look at him with a raised brow. “Y/N, you barely have any combat experience yet you took on Jetwal? What were you thinking?”

And you said something that surprised him.

“I was thinking of you.”

And Din couldn’t find any words. He cleared his throat and you continued, “We were alone and I had no idea when you’d come, I was scared something had happened to you because I couldn’t get a hold of you through the comms and that guy was coming at us and-” You inhaled sharply, wincing at what Din assumed was a jab in one of your wounds but he didn’t know how to help. You calmed a moment later, closing your eyes and furling your brows together. “I thought about what you would have done if you were there. You always looked like you knew what to do.”

To say that Din was proud of you would have been an understatement, he was beaming wonders underneath his helmet but realized that you couldn’t see through the beskar.

“I thought I’d lost you both.” Din admitted. “But I’m very proud of you. You saved lives, Y/N. That’s no easy feat for someone of your age.”

You grinned at him and laughed. “Did you do something like this when you were my age?”

“Yes, but I didn’t end up as fucked up as you did.” “Hey!” Din laughed and raised his forearm to block your playful hits.

A moment of silence falls between the two of you before you look at Din again. “Do you know how long we’ll be here for?”

“With your injuries, no clue. I’ll talk to the medics and Cyrukee to see what is to be done.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your fingers twitching involuntarily. Din’s hands find their way to your hair again. “Mando, I’m tired.”

“Rest. I’ll be here with you.” He watches you half-heartedly nod at his words and doze off in a matter of seconds. The injuries have taken a toll on your body, Din suspects, and he pulls a sheet over you. He sits with you, watching villagers talk amongst themselves, speaks with those who come by to thank him for his help, and accepts Grogu from the nurse when she comes over, thanking her for all she’d done for you. She told him that a thank you was not owed to her, and that if you were to need anything she was only a call away.

And when he was finally left alone, Mandalorian took one look to take account for his two foundlings. They slept soundly and with luck, heads full of dreams. Most importantly, they were safe in his care once again.

Din realized he’d been holding in a breath, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

.....

Taglist:

@kiara-is-gay @pcotato @sagedgeek

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Sacrifice: Part 1.5 (Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader)

synopsis: you meet your captors, but why are you really here?

wc: 1.8k

tw: none

masterlist

Giggling.

Giggling?

Do people giggle in heaven?

When you finally come to, all you can hear are muffled whispers and excited chatter around you.

“Mom? Dad?” You slowly open your eyes and take in the blurry shapes surrounding you, blinking multiple times so that they would take form.

“No mom or dad here,” a soft voice whispers, and cold fingers touch your forehead.

“No,” another voice echoes and finally, you can see who is circled around you. A gaggle of women surrounds you, each one having an unusual skin color - rose pink, cerulean, blood red, hunter green, and mauve - and sporting a set of unfamiliar-looking ears that came to a small pinched point at the tops.

“We’re glad you’re awake!” A woman with short black hair and green skin exclaims, clasping her hands to her clothed chest. “Everyone is shocked when they come here at first, but we’ve never had someone pass out,” she giggles and the other women do as well.

“You made quite a spectacle,” another woman sighs, shaking her rose-pink head. “We had to get the men to help us get you up here.”

Here? You look around the room you’re in, fully noticing your surroundings. You’re still in the clothes from the ceremony, and the pendant hangs neatly around your neck still, untouched by the women. But the room… it’s immaculate.

Every piece of furniture is either gold or white, and to your left, a set of open-air windows are covered by gauzy curtains that blow in the invisible wind. You’re laying in a four-poster bed, covered in white sheets and white fur that looks expensive. And when you run your hands over it, it feels expensive.

“Wait…” you exhale, looking around at the room again. “Am I in the Dragon God’s--”

“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re asking,” The blood-red-skinned woman answers, fingering her long braid. “But I’ll let His Holiness explain.”

“His Holiness?” you mutter, right as a sharp ripple runs through the curtains. All of the women turn to the archways and in one motion begin to scramble there.

“Move, Ariadne!”

“Serena, scoot over!”

“Danai, I can’t see!”

You cautiously slide out of the bed and pad over to where the women have thrown open the curtains and are leaning over the banister to look left and right.

“Do you see them?” Someone asks, and one of them replies,

“Up there!” Your eyes follow to the point in the sky where the mauve hand is pointing, and you can see two figures dancing about in the sky, flashes of gold and white passing between them. As they get closer, you can clearly make out that they’re...

“Dragons.” A black one circles around a white one, both of them exchanging fire in turn. All of the women begin to squeal, their excited chatter like the sounds of birds in the morning light.

“You came to just in time,” the tall, blood-red woman nudges you, smiling widely. “His Holiness and His Highness like to spar during the day, and it looks like they’re putting on quite the show.”

“Ah,” you answer, looking back up at the dragons, who were getting even closer, almost right upon the place where you all stood.

“What’s your name?” she asks, raising a brow at you.

“Y/n,” you reply, fiddling with the edges of your sleeves.

“I’m Clymenestra,” the woman offers her hand to you, and you take it, shaking it firmly. “But everyone calls me Cly. I’m the head of household affairs, so if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to send for me.”

“Household affairs?”

“Food, drink, sheets, anything you associate with households, I’m in charge of it.”

“So… you’re not the Dragon God’s… wives?”

Cly laughs, tossing her head back and holding her stomach as her fox-like features slide into a wide grin. “Oh, y/n, you are so funny!” You turn back to the spectacle in front of you and watch as the two dragons engage in a death-drop, wrapping around each other in an endless loop.

“They’re going to do it!” Someone squeals and you all watch as they drop into the water right below them, neglecting to emerge for what feels like eons. As you scan the shoreline for any signs of re-emerging dragons, you wonder why two dragons - fire-breathing creatures - would descend into the depths of what appeared to be an ocean. But when two male figures emerge from the sea, you’re suddenly aware that it was just what Cly said: it was all a show.

“Oh! Cly, we have to get their robes!” One of the women shouts and the women break into a frenzy again, scurrying about and opening drawers and shutting wardrobes, hands suddenly filled with different articles of clothing. Clymenestra stands beside you, arms folded over her chest as she oversees the chaos, then opens a set of doors that leads to a large, long hallway. The doors at the end of the hallways open out to the outdoors at the same time, and you watch the women file neatly into the hallway in two rows. Cly tugs you to her side at the end of the line, holding your hand with an iron grip.

“Say nothing until I introduce you.”

When the two men who resurfaced from the sea stride through the doors, you swallow hard, feeling your palms become clammy at the sight of the muscles on display.

Oh, no. They’re hot.

“Your Holiness.”

“Your Highness.”

The women coo these words interchangeably as a black, long-haired man and a white-haired man take the clothing offered to them, wrapping the towels and silk robes around themselves. As the white-haired man gets closer to you, your knees begin to quake under your dress, his blue eyes piercing your soul.

“Clymenestra, it seems we have a new guest here,” he purrs, placing a hand on his hip. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I’m--” Cly yanks on your hand surreptitiously, which stops your speech.

“Her name is y/n, and she’s the newest addition to His Holiness’ household, your Highness.”

“Ah,” the man sighs, looking away. “I was hoping they would send me a new plaything this time.” The black-haired man catches the end of this conversation, tying his black robe around him and raising a brow.

“Have you asked for a new plaything, Gojo?” he wonders as his black eyes slide to you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch his gaze, which is tender and curious. Not at all like the devouring gaze the man with the blue eyes gave you.

“No,” the blue-eyed man mumbles, walking down a different corridor and disappearing.

“I’m sorry about my friend, he’s a little touchy around this time of year,” the black-haired man mentions, and Cly bobs into a small curtsy.

“Your Holiness, this is y/n.”

“What a beautiful name,” he muses, and you bow your head slightly. “You can refer to me as Geto.” When he speaks to you - and so familiarly at that - you feel a shiver run down your spine and rest in the pit of your stomach. “You’re my guest here and I will treat you as such. Have you fully recovered from your episode?” he wonders, and you nod in response, words unable to be formed in your mouth. “Fantastic. Let’s have dinner, I know you’re probably famished after losing your horse.” Cly urges you to follow him down a separate corridor, and you follow obediently.

_____________________________________________________________

Two pairs of eyes are on you as you try to politely scarf down the food offered. When the smell of loaves of bread, meats, cheeses, fish, delicacies you’ve only dreamed of having for the past five years wafted into your nose, your rational mind switched off and your self-preservation kicked in. Now, you were sitting at a table for four in the middle of a large dining hall that could possibly hold twenty couples total. The room is the same white and golden color scheme, only this time, the chairs and table cloths are black.

“You would think the villagers would have fed her,” Gojo - his highness - grumbles as you shove a slice of bread into your mouth. Geto just chuckles, picking at his own food with little interest.

“No, Satoru. They were cruel enough to send her up the mountain, certain she would die. Why would they waste food during a famine?” The famine. You look up from your plate at the black-haired one and frown, mouth full of food.

“We sacrifice women to you so that you’ll send rain.” You mention, and he shrugs, shaking his head. “At least, that’s what the elders tell us.”

“He’s not a rain god,” Gojo replies, steepling his fingers together. “So there’s something wrong about that assumption.”

“But we’ve been doing it for--”

“Two decades.” Geto finishes for you, then looks down at his plate before clearing his throat. “What did you do in the village, y/n?” He wonders, changing the subject suddenly.

“I--” I stole some food. I lived on the streets. I was an orphan.

I am an orphan.

“What difference does it make? Obviously, she wasn’t valuable enough for them to want to preserve her life.” Gojo interrupts, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like she’s not better off up here, Suguru.”

“But--” you try to speak, but Geto speaks over you, holding a hand out so Gojo will stop talking.

“Gojo, I know that. I just want to know a little more about our guest here. Is that okay with you?” The blue-eyed man tosses his hands up in defeat, squinting at you after looking you up and down. “Y/n, tell me about your time in the village. What did you do before you were picked?”

“I was… an orphan,” you admit, and Geto leans back in his chair, humming softly. Gojo runs a hand through his white locks, averting his gaze.

“My condolences,” Geto murmurs, tilting his head to the side so his hair dangled to the left. “Were you very close?”

“Are you going to sacrifice me?” you blurt, and Geto and Gojo both frown. “I mean, am I going to die after eating this meal?” Gojo tries his best to hold in his laughter, but fails miserably, tilting back in his chair as the sharp sounds echo around the room. You turn back to Geto, who chuckles as well and is hunched over in his seat.

“No, no, no,” Gojo wipes the tears from his eyes and continues. “You’re out guest, y/n. We would be horrible hosts if we killed you.”

“So what am I here for?” you reply, and Geto whispers:

“You’re only here to repay a debt, y/n. It has nothing to do with you personally, but just know, you’re not going to die. Actually, I would go as far as saying that you have the opportunity to live forever.”

TAGLIST: @jotazinha @leanne-tamashi @brownskinnedgirll

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Our Story - Prologue

theA/N: My first Chris Evans series. This is just a fluffy little series that has been floating around in my brain for a while, and because I've recently fallen head first into the Chris trashcan, I figured he’d be the perfect person for this little love story AU. I mean absolutely no disrespect with this, it's just a work of fiction. I also want to give a huge thank you to @percywinchester27​ and @girl-next-door-writes​ for being my betas for this story. You are both amazing and I'm so grateful for your help on this. 

Chapter: One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (unfortunately no Chris in this part) 

Warnings: Absolutely none. 

Wordcount: 1850

Four weeks after my twentieth birthday, I left my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia, and pointed my nose towards New York. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed already, but my twenty-eighth birthday approached in large strides to remind me of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. New York City was a stark contrast to Savannah, the city that never sleeps VS the most charming city in America. When I first moved here, it was my intention to stay for only a year, then I would be back in Savannah with my family and the man that I loved so deeply, Josh. 

However, life never really turns out how you intend it to, no matter how much you plan for your future. Josh and I used to talk at length about our future together, and I honestly couldn't wait to get started on it all, house, careers, and then a family of our own at some point. Then, after eight or so months of long-distance we finally broke and admitted to ourselves that it was just too hard. I know you might think that since we had stuck it out for that long, we surely could manage a few more months, but by then I had been asked to stay on in what was supposed to be a temporary position, and I had fallen in love, not only with the city, but with my work. I asked Josh to come to me, told him we could find ourselves a little apartment in Queens, or the East Village, something we could afford, and we could spend a few years together here before moving back home to start a family. I guess you’ve already figured it didn't turn out that way, and it ended, as long-distance relationships often do, in heartbreak. It was my first real heartbreak- amicable, civil, and soul-crushing. It was also then I realized, as we all, unfortunately, do at some point in our lives, that love does not, in fact, conquer all. 

If I'm being completely honest, I knew within my first month in this magical city that I would never want to leave, and after things ended with Josh, I felt as though I had deceived him in some cruel, unintentional way. Every conversation we had, had after that had been filled with lies and promises I never intended to keep. I had fooled myself as much as I had fooled him. After our break up, although completely heartbroken, I felt free and unburdened, which strangely made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Our love didn't end in some big blowout argument, or because we didn't want to be with one another. It ended because of the thousands of miles that separated us, and because in the months we spent apart, I changed in a way that could not have been foreseen. Never did I imagine myself in a big and busy city, but as I said, New York and me, it was love at first sight. 

You might be wondering what job took me from my safe and comfortable life in Georgia, thinking that it must have been some grand, once in a lifetime thing. It was not. It was a temporary job as a personal assistant. I found it as I sat by my computer one night, daydreaming about what kind of life I would live if I had all the money in the world, what life Josh and I could create for ourselves. That's when I came across the ad. A woman, Mrs. Wallace, needed an assistant. She was a very wealthy woman in need of someone to keep track of her very busy social calendar, amongst other things. I knew she was wealthy because she lived on Fifth Avenue, not that I had ever been to New York and really knew what that entailed, but I had seen movies and read books placed in the city and knew very well that Fifth Avenue was a very expensive street. There was little to no description of the job or what Mrs. Wallace was looking for in an assistant, other than that they had to be organized and were able to juggle multiple things at once. Beyond that it really came down to compatibility. I was nothing if not organized, so before I knew it, I had compiled an application letter and sent to her email. I told no one about this, because it was ridiculous for me to think I'd even get a reply back. In all honesty, it had all been forgotten by the next morning, and I didn't think of it again until three days later when, at dinner with Josh I might add, I got an answer. She would like for us to meet. We sent a couple of emails back and forth where I tried to, as politely as possible, explain that I did not have the means to travel to New York just for an interview. I stated that I appreciated her interest, and apologized profusely for not being able to make it out there. It was then she asked for my details, and about fifteen minutes later I got a confirmation from American Airlines that my ticket had been booked and paid for. Two days later I was sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace at a restaurant that I would never be able to afford, listening to her talk about the job I had applied for and what she expected of me. 

The very first thing that struck me about Mrs. Wallace was her age. For some reason, I had imagined someone in their fifties, full of botox, fillers, and whatever else middle-aged women put into their faces to look younger, but Mrs. Wallace was not that much older than me. At the time we met, she was twenty-seven, so younger than I am now, and strikingly beautiful. Thick, black hair that looked professionally blow-dried and sculpted so that not a single strand was out of place. It draped over her shoulders in loose Hollywood style waves and stood in sharp contrast to the white blazer she wore. Her skin was olive, her eyes deep brown, and her cheekbones could probably cut glass. When you put that together with her long, model-like legs, an hourglass waistline, and a very ample bosom, the woman looked like a greek goddess. To top it all off she had a warm and kind smile, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Kate, as she insisted I call her, was far from the stuck up, nose in the sky, botox filled woman that I had imagined in my head. We hit it off, and before dessert was served, I had a job offer. 

It's hard to explain, but I felt as though I needed to take this opportunity, that this was an experience I was meant to have in some inexplicable way, and I accepted right then and there without a second thought, or even a conversation with my family or boyfriend. Josh was angry with me at first, but supportive, so two weeks later I stood in front of 1040 Fifth Avenue and looked up at the towering building with its limestone and intricate carvings here and there. Kate greeted me at the front door as I stepped out of the car that she had sent to pick me up from the airport. This place even had a porte-cochere to protect the residents from rain as they walked from the door to their private chauffeur-driven vehicles. I would be staying here with the Wallace family, in the staff quarters with the rest of the staff of course, so that I could be available to Kate at all times. And that's how my New York adventure started. 

Eight years later, I am still working for Kate, still living in my little room in the staff quarters, but I love it. I have a little bathroom and everything I need. Food is prepared for us all by the cook, Rosalia. She is a little, plump woman in her mid-fifties, kind and compassionate, not to mention deeply passionate about the food she prepared for the whole household. Along with me and Rosalia, the other staff in our quarters are Magdalena, the housekeeper, and Mitch, who is Mr Wallace’s assistant. There was more staff, of course, like the private chauffeur’s, who didn't live on-site and throughout any given day, people would be in and out of the place like it was a busy office space as opposed to the home that it actually is. 

Now, Mr Wallace was a very busy man, working non-stop whether it be at his office, or at his home office. It seemed as whenever I saw him, he was walking in fast strides, either on the phone, or confirming things with Mitch who half sprinted behind him with his I-pad, trying not to trip over anything as he tried to keep up and take down notes at the same time. Henry, that was Mr Wallace’s first name, was a little older than Kate, not so much that you could accuse her of being a gold digger, but he was approaching his fifties now. He didn't look it though, he was a very handsome man, and kind. Imagine George Clooney, a man that just seems to get more gorgeous with every passing year. Kate and Henry were busy, always had their hands full with whatever it was, but somehow they always found time to share a meal together every day. Even if it meant having Rosalia heat up some leftovers for them at midnight. They were very much in love, and it was clear in the way they looked at one another, and how they always made sure to have that little moment to themselves every day. A couple of years ago, Kate had confided in me that she could not have children of her own, it was something that had weighed on her since she was only sixteen years old, but with Henry, she said, ‘I have all I need with that man, all the love I could ever wish for.’ It was a shame really, because I knew that Kate would have made an amazing mother, and Henry a great dad. ‘I'm alright,’ she had assured me. ‘I've come to peace with it, and learned not to dwell on something that will never be.’ 

So, that's the short version of how I ended up here, doing a job I adored in a city I loved with all my heart, so I think it's about time we move forward. Jump to the part where my real story starts. Spoiler alert; it involves a warm summer day in Central Park, a ruined dress, and an extremely handsome man named Chris. 

******

If you liked what you read, how about slamming that reblog button and help spread my work? If you leave a little comment on top of that, you’ll be in my heart forever. 

Want a tag? I got you!! Just send me an ASK and I'll add you. 

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

[angryschnauzer]

The Dark Wolf

Summary:  The Dark Wolf hadn't picked an Omega yet, it had been three months since the Spring Equinox and still the omegas that had been selected hadn't been successful. With your heat approaching you could only however think of the gentle Alpha that would visit you at work, distracting you from your impending heat... and you selection as the Omega for the Dark Wolf.

Pairing: Adopted Stark Omega Daughter Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, ABOAlpha/Omega, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Werewolf, Mating Rituals, Ritual Sex, Heat Cycles, rut cycles, Full Moon, Witchcraft, Unprotected Sex, Mating, Breeding, Knotting

I do not run a tag list but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications to get alerts whenever i post new stories. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives. Masterlist is now AO3, link HERE.

The Dark Wolf

 It was springtime yet a keen wind swirled at your ankles as you quickly made your way home. It was late in the day and the sun was already dipping below the horizon, the thick forest that surrounded the village making the days shorter with their tall canopy. A group of girls around the same age as you ran past, laughing and joking as they made their way towards the tavern, unaware of you as you carried the heavy basket from the market. The stalls had been packing away by the time you got there, your job at the bakery keeping you busy most of the day.

As the girls passed by, their scent was thick on the air; cloying and sickly as the synthetic heat pheromones they had added to their perfume to make them more attractive to any Alpha’s at the tavern assaulted your senses, making you quietly sneeze. Their voices were high pitched and clawed at your ears as they squealed and laughed;

“Maybe that dress will be enough to convince the Dark Wolf to take you tonight!”

“Ooh do you think? He hasn’t chosen a mate yet this season, do you think he’ll do it soon?”

“It’s coming close to summer, usually he’s chosen by now”

 “Who do you think the Dark Wolf is?”

 “I don’t know, but the full moon is in two days’ time, and if you want to get chosen, you’ll need to bring your heat on pretty soon”

 “I just need a big dumb Alpha that’s about to Rut to trigger my heat!”

 “Well keep an eye out for the red paint on your door, you know that’s how the Dark Wolf chooses his Omega”

They all laughed as they went, and you could smell arousal in the air, little did you realise it was your own.

 The wind blew their scent away as quickly as it had brought it, and pushing against the gusts you pulled your cardigan tighter around your body. You had always dreamed of an Alpha to take care of you, to help bring his pups into the world, have a whole pack of little ones. Shaking your head you tried to rid yourself of the thoughts that wanted to enter your mind of the Alpha you pined for, knowing if you got distracted it would only make you feel worse.

 Finally the tall eaves of your father’s house came into view, giving you a sense of relief as you made your way up the pathway and into the house, closing the old black door behind you.

 Your Adopted father was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of you, his arms still covered in soot from where he’d been working all day at his forge, if there was one thing Tony Stark knew how to do, it was fix anything made of metal. Dropping the vegetables he was peeling he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead;

 “Hey Sweetie, are you doing ok? Get everything you need?”

 “Yeah, thanks Dad” you replied awkwardly.

 Tony had raised you alone, doing his best to raise a girl - and now a young woman in her early 20’s - and had done his best to help you with the more feminine side of things. He had never suppressed your urge to learn your mothers art of witchcraft, helping you where he could, and when it came to the time when you had started to feel the Omega Heat, he had encouraged you to deal with it however you had felt right. 

 Setting the heavy basket of herbs and produce onto the table, you set about resting the fresh herbs into little vases with water to keep them fresh, and opening the package of freshly roasted coffee beans to let them cool enough to store them in jars;

 “I’ll make an elixir tomorrow, the bakery had me run ragged today… I’m not feeling great”

 “If you’re sure Honey. Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll have dinner ready in an hour”

 “Thanks Dad”

-

 The next morning you woke and felt the first pang of pain in your stomach, telling you that your heat was closer than you thought. You had slept fitfully, dreams marred by a large wolf; the Werewolf that haunted the village and wanted to claim a mate. You’d felt fear but also something else, something you couldn’t place, and in the dream when the wolf had been close enough to touch you had seen a familiarity in his eyes before suddenly you were awake.

 Drenched in sweat you knew you needed to get your elixir made unless you wanted to try and cope with a heat without an Alpha to knot you, so you dressed quickly in the previous days clothes and quietly made your way downstairs, moving around the kitchen as you set the large pot of water onto the stove to boil before starting to add the herbs you bought the day before. Stirring the aromatic mixture you suddenly stopped;

 “Rosemary!” you muttered quietly to yourself, before stepping out of the front door and crossing the garden barefoot, the dewy grass cool on the soles of your feet. Plucking a handful of sprigs you raised them to your face and inhaled their fresh scent, smiling as it hit your senses as you turned, and that’s when you saw it. The red paint.

 “NO!” you screamed, frozen to the spot. 

 Seconds later your father appeared at the doorway, looking around wildly before seeing you and rushing to your side;

 “What? What is it?”

 You pointed, your hand shaking and he followed your gaze before sharply inhaling; there it was, a wide and vivid swipe of red paint on your black front door;

 “Daddy… please… get a rag. It still looks wet”

 “Honey… ok honey…”

 His reassurance was interrupted by a quiet cough at your garden gate, causing you both to turn and that’s when you saw him;

 “Constable Rogers…”

 “Tony… you know its Steve, not Constable”

 “Steve… really? The pack chose my Little Girl?”

 Steve set a large hand on Tony’s shoulder;

 “It’s the choice. She won’t be harmed. But you know it’s the ritual and it's the law” Steve paused, and you could see the conflict on his face as he spoke; “She’s not a little girl anymore Tony, she’s a beautiful woman”

 Tony stood partially in front of you, trying to protect you;

 “I get that Steve… but it should be her choice. This seems so… so… barbaric…”

 “Maybe so, but I’m not here to argue with you… you know my job…”

 Tony nodded. He knew the laws. He’d done his best to bend them or influence them as much as possible, but the rules of the Werewolf that lived in the woods called for a mate once a year, his chosen Omega would spend the first full moon after the spring equinox with him, and if she was suitable she would bear his child and become his wife… and yet no-one knew the face of the man who was this wolf, just that it was one that walked among them. And for the last three months the chosen women had been returned to the town at the end of the three nights of full moon. Each said the same of their time away; it was not to be spoken of; they were unsuitable.

 The Constable - Steve - held out his hand for you and you paused, still grasping your fathers’ hand before he spoke to you;

 “It’s your choice. I will fight it for you if you don’t want to go”

 “It’s ok Dad. I haven’t been able to make the suppressant elixir in time, there isn’t any other way to deal with this Heat that is coming”

 Tony nodded before he glanced at your feet;

 “At least let me get you some shoes. Barefoot in the forest is not as enjoyable as barefoot on a soft lawn”

 -

 Standing on the cold stone slab in the clearing you watched as Steve tied the rope around your wrist to the solitary tree that stood in the centre;

 “Why are you doing this?” you asked.

 He froze. It was the first thing you’d said since you’d left your father’s house. He had almost forgotten you had a voice you had been so quiet. He cleared his throat;

 “You know it’s the way. And as the village constable have to uphold what it written”

 “Is this not… not archaic? To leave me out here to be taken against my will?”

 Steve stood straight and looked at you, his hand softly cupping your face;

 “It’s not like that. When the Dark Wolf appears, you will know if it’s right. He will know. He will approach you and if your scent pulls you from his Lycanthropy, he’ll know you are the right Omega”

 “What if… what if it doesn’t trigger his Rut? What if I’m not the right Omega?”

 “Then he will try again tomorrow night”

 “And leave me here to suffer my Heat? Alone?”

 Steve took a deep breath, looking away and unable to meet your gaze;

 “You will not be alone”

 He had finished tying the ropes and had tested them to make sure they were secure before stepping away, and with a sigh he turned and quickly made his way out of the clearing and into the dense forest. You had seen him flinch each time you’d screamed out his name, your throat finally becoming hoarse and you let out a pitiful sob as you fell to your knees. Curling up against the side of the old oak tree, you tried to clear your mind, your fingers drawing patterns in the soil, trying to remember some of the old magic you knew. The full moon was setting in the sky above you as morning broke, the sequence of the phases seemingly out of sorts.

 Suddenly you felt a pain in your stomach, you knew exactly what it was; your Heat was fast approaching. The sweat started to bead across your chest, your breathing getting heavier, as the first spasm shot through you something suddenly moved in the thick brush at the side of the clearing. Your eyes darted in that direction but saw nothing but ferns and undergrowth. As another wave of Heat pains started to build, movement out of the corner of your eye distracted you from your impending heat. This time whatever it was stood still, yet all you could see was a glowing pair of eyes in the darkness of the surrounding forest. 

 Forgetting about your Heat and your incantations you were trying to draw in the earth, you instead focused your attention upon the rope that tied you to the tree. When Steve had said you would not be alone, was this what he meant? Your scared fingers worked on the knot in the rope, trying to loosen it. 

 A quiet growl echoed from the darkness and as the panic set in you felt a rush of power surge through you, grasping the rope that tied you with both hands you pulled it harshly and it snapped at the tree. 

 You did not wait, you were running, running as fast as your feet could take you. Blindly rushing through the dense forest, you could hear creatures chasing after you, the growls and gnashing of teeth. The surge of energy your heat was giving you powered you on, deeper into the forest, further from home. A shrill howl sent a chill down your spine, but you continued your sprint. The sounds of the creatures behind you were getting closer, ahead the forest floor rose steeply, the sharp incline slowing you as your feet slid on the dry pine needles that had fallen from the tall spruce trees that towered above you. 

 You slipped, your smooth and simple slippers giving no traction and your fingers dug into the forest floor. You fell to your knees and squeezed your eyes shut, doing what little you could do to prepare yourself for whatever happened next. But… but the growling stopped, the forest fell silent. Opening one eye then both you slowly turned, letting out a cry as you saw the pack of wolves surrounding you, but none were looking to you, their attention fell upon the rocky outcrop above you.

 Turning you looked up and gasped, he was there; the Dark Wolf. 

 With a loud snarl he jumped from the rocky outcrop and over you, landing gracefully at your feet as he growled loudly at the baying pack that surrounded you. Circling around he trod silently, the hairs on his spine standing on end as he bared his teeth at the pack as they kept trying to approach, before standing beside you. He seemingly paused before pointing his snout to the sky and let out a powerful howl. 

 You watched, dumbfounded as each wolf sat. It was clear that the Dark wolf was in charge; that he was the Alpha of the pack. He turned, his icy blue gaze directed at you before he reached his head down and took the rope in his mouth that was still tied to your wrist. He tugged it gently and you pushed yourself to your feet, the smooth soles of your shoes slipping on the loose pine needles that covered the dirt, and he rested the side of his body against your thigh, steadying you. Resting your hand on the coarse fur to steady yourself as he led you down the slope, you found yourself surprised by how soft his fur was, almost as if it was spun silk. 

 The pack parted like a tide, letting the Dark Wolf lead you into the darkness of the forest by the rope between its jaws. You could hear the pack following, keeping its distance, yet somehow you weren’t afraid; you felt safe with the Dark Wolf. 

 Through the dense trees a solitary cabin came into view, its windows black as if abandoned, yet deep red geraniums had been carefully planted around the doorway. The soft forest floor made way for sandstone paving, and you let Dark Wolf lead you to the entrance. 

 Arriving at the porch he sat beside you and whined like a dog would, looking from you to the door and back again. 

 “Oh, right… no opposable thumbs in your paws”

 If wolves could roll their eyes it would have, and as you reached forwards for the door handle you tested it, the door swinging open on its creaky hinges. Looking to Dark Wolf you smiled;

 “Whoever lives here needs to do some maintenance”

 The wolf let out a snort before standing, gently leading you by the rope that still hung from your wrist. He paused in the hallway before pushing his behind against the door to close it, leading you into the cabin through dark hallways, finally coming to a single room, surrounded on three sides by floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the forest. Pulling you onto the bed he sat on his haunches before you tumbled onto the soft mattress.

 Only then did you realise how tired you were, exhausted from not only the chase through the forest, but also the drama of the morning on top of a poor night’s sleep. As if on cue you felt the cramp in your stomach; remind you that your heat was starting, and without thinking you curled up onto the bed, clutching at your stomach in the foetal position. Screwing your eyes shut you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips, the surge of heat flowing through you. And yet… suddenly you felt a cold nose press against your neck, before a heavy snout rested on you. It calmed you. Curling your fingers into Dark Wolf’s fur, you screwed your eyes shut, the waves of heat tiring you, until you blacked out and a deep sleep took hold.

 -

 You could feel your mind pulling you from your deep sleep and you snuggled into the soft pillows a little further. You felt movement against you and your hands sought out the soft fur that was pressed to your chest, curling it between your fingers. There was something calming about the beast that lay beside you, even with your eyes closed you could hear its breathing was steady and strong;

 “You’ve helped, you know?”

 At the sound of your quiet voice it shifted slightly, and although you hadn’t yet opened your eyes you could sense it was looking at you as you continued;

 “For whatever this is, you calmed me. I was so scared, not just of the pack, but of what would happen. I had been waiting… hoping… you see at the bakery there is one man that visits, I had been hoping he would ask to court me, but he always seems so shy…”

 The wolf’s breathing caught before you heard a voice;

 “I think it’s time you opened your eyes Omega”

 No. It couldn’t be… your eyes were squeezed shut but you wanted to look… yet you didn’t… you knew that voice, you’d heard it the day before when the soft and quiet Alpha you’d always pined for had visited the bakery the and had ordered the last of the cinnamon buns you had coveted so much, the ones you always ordered right before your heat arrived, that were your comfort food.

 “Omega…”

 “James?”

 “Open your eyes”

 Meekly you did as he asked, and he was there; in front of you. Your fingers were curled around his long dark hair and his face was inches from your own, his pale blue eyes staring straight into your soul. After what seemed like an eternity you finally found your voice;

 “You’re the Dark Wolf?”

 He nodded;

 “For the last few months, yes”

 Frowning at his response, you didn’t understand what he meant.

 “It is a different member of the pack each year… For the last three months whenever an Omega was brought to the clearing, they weren’t a match…”

 “A match? But, surely it’s just the nature of an Alpha and an Omega?”

 “Not for Werewolves. The right Omega will pull a werewolf out of its cycle. It’s why I’m here, like this, now…”

 You thought over what he’d said, your eyes going wide in the realisation of what it meant; that you were meant to be his;

 “Is this why you never said anything? At the bakery? Or when I would see you in the market? You were saving me for this barbaric ritual?”

 James’s face dropped, the hope seemingly leaving his body at your words;

 “I… I… I would be made to choose. If it’s your ‘year’ as the Dark Wolf, if you choose a mate before you have taken part in the ritual, that mate is rejected… I didn’t want that to happen to you…” he looked up at you through watery eyes; “When Steve told me that another Omega had been selected this month, I hoped so much it would be you…this is my final month, my final chance...” 

 His words trailed off and you didn’t want to think what would have happened to him if he hadn’t of picked a mate this month. Cupping his cheek with your hand you gently stroked your thumb over his stubbled skin before closing the distance between the two of you and your lips met. 

 The kiss was soft at first, but as you both became bolder and Bucky’s arms wrapped around your body to pull you flush with his, you found yourself relenting to his charms. 

 You were mid kiss when you felt the first pang of cramp in your stomach, this time you whimpered loudly, James pulling away and started to strip you of your clothing;

 “C’mon Omega… let me help you…”

 “James, it hurts… its hurts so much…”

 “I know, let me at your skin and I can take the hurt away. And please, call me Bucky… the pack leader calls me James when I’m in trouble…”

 You let him move you, quickly unbuttoning your dress before pulling your underwear off, finally untying the rope that was still around your wrist, and he moved back so he could take in your naked beauty… and yet you felt ashamed, embarrassed, trying to cover yourself with your hands until he gently caught your hands in his own large grasp;

 “Omega, what is it?”

 “I have never…”

 “You’ve never been with an Alpha?”

 You shook your head, and Bucky leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to yours;

 “Oh, my sweet Omega, I am here to help you, we can do as much or as little as you want or need”

 He settled you against the soft pillows and rested his head against your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you wound your fingers through his long hair. Finally, he felt your pulse slow and he started to press kisses down your torso until he reached your soaked core. Running his fingers through the copious slick that coated your folds, he hummed his appreciation at the sweet scent that filled his senses, before leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to your swollen clit;

 “You smell so good Omega, can feel you trembling, let me taste you, make you cum with my tongue”

 “Bucky…” you whined, and you felt more than heard him chuckle as you wanted him to stop talking and start doing… something, anything.

 He got the hint and with one long lick he covered your entire pussy, tasting you, groaning at your sweetness. Hooking your legs over his wide shoulders he gripping onto your thighs, burying his head between your legs as his long tongue delved deep within you, fucking you with the strong muscle and you could feel the heat pains ebbing away and being replaced by those of pleasure. His fingers found your clit and he strummed against the sensitive nub, making you scramble for something to grip onto. With your legs shaking and your fingers curled through his soft dark hair you were coming hard, and he relished every drop, drinking your slick as it gushed from your core until you were spent. 

 When your legs went limp and your hand fell to the sheets he slowly pulled away, pushing himself up to sit as he used the back of his hand to wipe the shining slick from his chin. Reaching the other hand he pressed his warm palm to your stomach tenderly;

 “How do you feel now Omega?”

 “Good… oh my god, so good…”

 “Wait here, I’m going to go get you some water”

 You lay there on his soft bed, eyes closed and listening to nothing but your heartbeat until you finally heard him approaching, pushing yourself up to sit only to let out a squeak of surprise;

 “You’re naked!”

 He stopped in the doorway and looked down as if it was a surprise to him too;

 “Yes? So are you?”

 “But… you’re naked!”

 You couldn’t draw your eyes away from his body, your gaze raking up and down as you tried to take in every chiselled plain and curve. From his wide shoulders and muscled arms, down his torso and stomach where his abdominal muscles tapered down in a deep v to his crotch. The thick thatch of dark hair that surrounded the thick and heavy length that swung between his legs, to the powerful thighs that looked bigger than you could ever have imagined;

 “Omega…” he gently laughed; “I literally woke up from being a wolf half an hour ago… I haven’t left your side…”

 He closed the distance between you, sitting on the side of the bed before handing you a glass of water and a plate. The scent of the treat the plate contained drew your attention, and you instantly recognised what it was;

“The cinnamon buns from the bakery! I always have these as my heat starts!”

 He smiled and as you ate you couldn’t help it, but your eyes continually strayed to his crotch, watching as his thick length would twitch and slightly swell the longer you looked at it. When you had finished eating, he silently took the plate from you before handing you the glass of water which you gratefully took, downing it quickly before handing it back;

 “Thank you”

 Setting the glass and plate onto the floor Bucky turned back to you;

 “How are you feeling now?”

 “Sleepy still, hot… yet cold…” you looked away shyly; “It makes me want to curl up but have you here with me…”

 “That we can do… scoot over, unless you want me to climb over you…”

 Laughing you moved to the centre of the bed watching in the pale light that still came in the large windows that surrounded the bedroom as the sun set having slept through most of the day. Bucky grabbed the oversized quilt as he shuffled in beside you, pulling it over your naked bodies as he curled his arm over your stomach and pulled you flush with his chest. Turning until you were the little spoon to his big. 

 It felt natural to be there in Bucky’s arms, to have his breath on your neck and his hands on your stomach. You could feel your body getting hotter and whimpered, you knew the heat hadn’t been sated, that you needed more, and your Alpha picked up on the change in your scent immediately. His lips found you bonding mark and he pressed kisses to the skin, soothing your body as he rubbed at the spot with his nose, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he felt you push your ass back against him. His dick was growing harder for every second he held you in his arms, and with you rubbing against him he couldn’t help but to rut against the soft globes of your ass, your voice startling him for a moment;

 “Bucky… Alpha...  I need you…”

 Bucky knew what you needed, and before he had even moved a muscle you were turning, getting to your knees;

 “Omega… are you presenting for me?”

 Looking over your shoulder you nodded;

 “Please Alpha… I need you… need your knot…”

 Bucky positioned himself at your soaked core, the feel of your hot slick against his dick almost overwhelming, and as he breached your entrance, he let out a low growl as he sank into your swollen channel. Moving his hips fluidly he coated his heavy girth in your slick, and with each thrust he knew he was in heaven. This was it; he was never going to find an omega better than you; you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his days with;

 “Fuck, Omega… you feel so good…”

 “Bucky… Please… make me yours”

 His hands gripped your hips as he fucked you, stretching you out so beautifully that he feared he would cum far too soon, but as you rocked back with each of his thrusts he regained control. Putting more power into each push, his powerful thighs became coated in your slick as it spilled out of you around his dick, filling the room with your combined scent. 

 You were crying out his name, begging, pleading for him to let you cum;

 “Please Alpha…”

 “Omega, you want me to cum? Want me to fill you with my seed, let you grow full with my Pups?”

 “Alpha! Please, I want your Pups, want your knot…”

 With a final flurry of thrusts he sent you over the edge, your body squeezing him so tight it triggered his own orgasm as he filled your fertile body with his potent seed.

 As his orgasm ebbed away, he bent over and wrapped his arms around your torso, pressing kisses to your back as you trembled beneath him. When you finally spoke your voice was hoarse;

 “That… that was amazing…”

 “That’s nothing Omega…” Bucky muttered, shifting slightly and your eyes went wide when you felt he was still hard inside you.

 “Alpha? How…? You haven’t knotted yet?”

 He chuckled lightly;

 “An Alpha can only grow a knot once he is spent… I got a good two or three more goes before that happens… and trust me; you’ll know it when I do my sweet Omega”

 “Oh…” he moved within you, setting off aftershocks of your orgasm; “OH!”

 Bucky moved you, somehow twisting and sliding you onto your side before pulling one of your legs up flush with his chest, all with his hard length still snug inside you. Pressing kisses down your calf he started to rock his hips back and forth, the added lubrication of his own cum adding to the sensations.

 It was starting to get dark now, and without any light in the room the only illumination was the rising full moon, casting its pale glow over the pair of you as you rutted together like wild animals. As Bucky threw his head back the moonlight caught every muscle, his skin gleaming with beads of sweat that looked like a thousand jewels.

 Looking down you watched as this meaty girth split you open and you welcomed him into your fertile womb. With one strong arm gripping your leg, the other hand found your centre, rubbing this thumb against your clit as he teased another orgasm out of you, fucking you through it and chasing his own release. With each new thrust his attention was drawn to your chest and you found yourself being bent in two as he pushed your leg ever higher until he shifted it to the side and was able to take your breasts in his hands as he continued to fuck you;

 “These titties, they’ll look so beautiful when full of milk for our pups…” he reached forward and took one peaked nipple between his teeth, sending shockwaves through your body. The pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach again, and as you shut your eyes and let the sensations take over, your imagination gave you a glimpse of the future, of a future with Bucky.

 The summer breeze blew warm air against your bare legs, the lace trim of your light summer dress brushing against your skin. Smoothing your hands over your swollen belly, your pup kicked inside you and you smiled. Looking out over the garden you saw your husband, your Alpha, your Bucky playing with your two-year-old twins, smiling as you heard their squeals of laughter as he chased them around the soft grass…

 As you came back to reality you felt the sudden rush of pleasure that told you your orgasm was imminent, you were completely surrounded by Bucky and you felt yourself surrendering to the pleasure he was giving you as you came again, this time with a low groan he filled you with another heavy load of his fertile seed.

 You held each other for the longest time, Bucky resting his face against your neck and you doing the same to him, rubbing your nose over his scent gland and picking up on the slight change in his scent. Before it was as simple as dew on soft pine, but now there was a warmer tone, cinnamon and coffee. Running your hands through his hair you spoke softly;

 “Bucky?”

 “Mmmm”

 “Bucky, your scent…”

 He pushed himself up on his strong arms, looking down at you and that’s when you realised what was happening;

 “Omega…” his pupils were blown wide, pools of dark arousal as he took in your naked form beneath him; “You’ve triggered my Rut…”

 Your bodies were still joined, and as he ducked his head down to kiss you, you could feel him still hard within your aching body, a body that was desperate for more, for his knot. Clouds moved across the night sky and momentarily blocked out the moonlight, and that’s when you saw it; movement outside the windows. With a gasp you pulled away from Bucky, your eyes wide as you searched the shadows, trembling as you saw eyes, glinting in what little light there was. 

 Bucky pressed his lips to your bonding mark, surrounding you, protecting you;

 “It’s the pack… they’re here to watch”

 “They what?”

“It’s part of the ritual, the pack needs to see me knot you… only then will they allow you to be mine, and for me to be yours…”

 His lips were driving you crazy, and as much as you wanted to fight it, you were also excited by the prospect of being watched as you were claimed;

 “Let’s do it Bucky… make me yours…”

 Above you Bucky was shaking with need, his rut starting to take hold and he looked almost feral with need. Pulling out he quickly moved you into position on your knees, and you found yourself parting your legs and arching your back to present for him. Looking down at your soaked core, your slick pouring down your thighs whilst mixed with his cum, he let out a growl and thrust forward, filling you completely. 

 He held himself deep within your welcoming body for the longest moment, before with a surprisingly gentle grip took hold of your shoulders and pulled you upright, your back flush to his chest as his lips brushed against your ear;

 “Show them, show them that I am yours and you are mine”

 Bucky held you, his arms encircling your torso as he held your breasts in his large hands, all whilst thrusting up into you with powerful grind of his hips. This time felt different; you felt fuller, and that’s when you realised what it was; his knot was starting to grow, to inflate. Even though you were practically melting, from your heat and from the energy being expended by your lovemaking, you shivered. The realisation that it was happening; you were about to be knotted, claimed. Bucky picked up on your nerves, the slighted change in your scent;

 “Omega, you’re doing so well, I could never have wished for a better mate…”

 As he spoke his teeth brushed over your bonding mark and you felt yourself rocking down harder with each of his thrusts until you felt it, his knot just slightly caught then slipped out again, causing you to whine like an animal denied its favourite treat;

 “Nearly there Omega, near-ly th-ere…”

 Each syllable was punctuated by a thrust, your body trembling, on the precipice again with your orgasm, until you heard his words;

 “It’s time Omega…”

 “Claim me Bucky, make me yours”

 With one final thrust you felt his knot notch inside and this time stick just as your orgasm crashed through your body. The added tightness of your body gripped his made Bucky let out a howl, roaring up at the sky as he bared his teeth, and with a rumble in his chest he brought his teeth down to your neck and claimed you.

 You felt the skin break, his teeth digging into your bonding mark and the warm trickle of your blood down your neck and chest. The moment seemed to be frozen in time, noise filling your ears before you opened your eyes and saw the pack outside; all wolves, all howling simultaneously as they celebrated the pack leader having claimed his Omega. 

 Pulling his teeth away from your skin Bucky gently licked over the wound, helping it to heal, all whilst your bodies were still joined. You felt weak, exhaustion taking over, and with careful movement so not to jar his knot within you, Bucky moved your pliable body until you were lying on your side, Bucky’s strong arms wrapped around you. The forest fell quiet and you heard the gentle sound of paws retreating into the distance, and the last thought that went through your mind as the pack retreated was that you were complete.

 -

 For three days and nights you spent it in Bucky’s arms. After that first night the drapes were pulled across all the windows, Bucky laughed that the pack had their show, now it was time for a private performance. And oh boy did he perform; your body was tired and aching but in the most beautiful way, you had a glow to you that both of you already knew was the first sign that Bucky’s seed had taken, and already you in your mind could feel the pups within you start to grow. Bucky gently laughed when you’d told him;

 “Surely it’s too early Omega?”

 “I just know Bucky…”

 You’d been in the huge tub at the time, your bodies joined yet again, warm water lapping at his knot as you let the scented water wash over your bodies for some interesting lovemaking, straddling him as he lay back against the side, you took his hands and rested them on your stomach;

 “Do you feel it? Can you sense it?”

 Bucky paused for a moment before his eyes went wide;

 “There’s something… I can feel this heat, this power coming from you…” he laughed happily and pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your body and burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he sobbed tears of joy.

 -

 Walking up the path to your father’s house you gripped Bucky’s hand tight, nervous about what you were going to say. As you approached the porch the door opened and you saw him, standing at the doorway as he watched you. For a moment his face was neutral as he took in the two of you, and then he sensed it and you could see his eyes starting to water. Rushing to you Tony wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight before finally stepping back;

 “Will you look at that, my baby is gonna have her own baby…”

 “Dad! How do you know?!”

 “Honey, a father knows. Plus, I can pick it up on your scent” Finally he turned to Bucky and extended his hand; “It’s good to finally meet you…”

 “Thank you, Sir. Its James, but everyone calls me Bucky”

 “Please Bucky, call me Tony”

 “Well Tony, I guess I’d better ask for your permission to marry your daughter?”

 Laughing Tony let go of your shoulders;

 “I thought that was a given… seeing a you’ve already knocked her up?”

 The two men laughed and you rolled your eyes, letting your father lead you into the kitchen. Over pancakes and bacon, you worked out your future, your dark wolf beside you the whole way.

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Eight

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, foul language, mentions of war, military technicalities (thread with caution)

A/N: Dum, Dum, DUM!!! We are finally here! The smutty part of the series is here and also an added twist in the end. I hope you guys like it because we are almost reaching the end. And as always a massive thank you to the wonderful beta @thelastsock who's been a huge help. Also, thank you to @cheyentjj​ for suggesting an appropriate face claim for Liv, Julianne Hough is the only one I’ll see as Liv now.  

<Chapter Seven

Title: Chapter Eight

Sy grumbled as he stared at himself in the mirror. His buzz cut was growing out and his beard was becoming scrawnier. He turned his head to the side, grazing his finger over the cut he had over his cheekbone. He had no idea how he had even gotten bruised like that. He wasn’t one to have an opinion on how he looked, but now that he had a woman in his life, he was suddenly more mindful.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sy turned around to grab his t-shirt from the back of the chair. His eye caught the silver chain lying on the table. He grabbed it in his hand, turning the medal in his palm. Liv always wore it but somehow, she had forgotten about it today. Sy was not religious or superstitious but he liked the idea that Liv’s friend cared about her enough to gift her something to keep her safe all the time.

Placing the chain back on the table, Sy couldn't help but think about what he had going on with Liv since the night she had spent in his room. He felt their relationship had evolved; she was opening up to him, telling him about her life, letting him in. Although, his heart had ached when she had told him about her family.

Sy had his arm draped over Liv, his fingers entwined with hers. Her back against his chest, her head resting on his extended arm. It was the third night in a row when Liv had come knocking on his door. He didn’t question her, only embraced her and cuddled her to sleep.

“Are you still awake?” He had whispered that night, not wanting to disturb the silence.

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” When she nodded, he continued. “What did you mean by ‘no one’s waiting for you back home’?”

Sy stared at the back of her head. He had been meaning to ask her about it for a while, but the moment never seemed right. He was almost certain she wasn’t going to answer when Liv sighed.

“My dad always wanted a son.” She adjusted against him, pulling his arm tighter around her. “He’s a real estate broker and has made a fortune out of it. He always had the idea that a son would be the one he would pass the mantle to.”

Sy scoffed. “That’s misogynistic.”

“Yeah, that’s my dad.” Liv sighed. “After I was born, he was clearly disappointed. He took his frustration out on mom, he treated her very badly. In turn, she took it out on me. So, I never really spent time with them as much. When my brother was born, my father was overjoyed and showered my mother with all his love, and she decided to dedicate her life to my brother’s upbringing. When my grandma asked me if I wanted to move in with her, I didn’t even put up a fight, and neither did they.”

“Baby,” Sy turned her in his arms to face him. Liv’s eyes held sorrow but there were no tears. Sy wondered if she had grown so accustomed to being neglected by her parents, she didn’t even feel anything more than disappointment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. If they wouldn’t have treated me the way they did, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today. I probably wouldn’t have even joined the army.” She placed her hand on his cheek, smiling weakly. “How would I have met you?”

 Sy smiled to himself. He had kissed her after that, feeling immensely happy for having her in his life. He would have never imagined meeting an incredible woman like Liv while being out in the desert. Sometimes he wondered if he was falling for her.

“Hey!” Liv announced, opening the door wide. She had a huge smile on her face, her skin slick with sweat and her eyes blown wide with exhilaration. “Pepps’s going to tell you everything, but I was so excited to tell you first.”

Sy raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. He could see Liv practically bouncing on her toes as she rubbed her hands together. He watched as she closed the door and walked up to him to give a chaste kiss on his lips.

“You know we’ve been trying to get more people on our side,” she pulled her jacket off, draping it neatly over the chair. She plopped down on the bed, crossing her legs and smiling widely up at Sy. “We just got someone on the inside.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me we have intel that there’s a new leader for the militants, I suggested we should try someone to infiltrate the group. Mahmoud fixed us with a young man who is on our side but will provide us information about the militant activities.”

Sy was impressed. He had approved Pepps for trying to recruit Mahmoud’s man, but Liv had no knowledge about it. He wanted to see how much effort Liv was ready to put into getting the job done. He felt even prouder and in awe of his woman every time he saw her in action.

“Also,” She straightened her leg and fished out a trimmer from her pocket. “I managed to get it from a barber shop at the village.”

Sy smirked with a naughty thought entering his mind. “Want a trim? Maybe I could help.”

Liv rolled her eyes at him and started detangling the wires from the trimmer. “Just FYI, I got everything laser removed. So, it’s smooth like butter down there.”

Sy felt his mouth go dry with the new revelation. He couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild, thinking exactly about having his mouth on the aforementioned part of Liv's body. Explicit was often where his thoughts went when he had her in his arms lately. Her body fit wonderfully in his, arranged in his arms like a perfectly matched puzzle piece. Each night he fought the urge to wake her and make love to her then and there.

“Okay, soldier. I can practically hear your thoughts.” She snickered, pointing at his crotch. He grumbled adjusting his pants that had tightened under the inevitable effect of his filthy ideas. “And this for you. I see how you keep looking at your hair and your beard. I could give you a buzz.”

Sy scoffed, grabbing his gun from the table and putting it in his thigh holster. “I’ll get it done from someone else.”

“Sy, I’m tired and I have only three hours until I have to go to my post. So please, get your ass here.” She bent down to wave her hand over the floor. She plugged in the trimmer on the socket above the bed. She looked at him expectantly, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

“If anything goes wrong, we’ll just shave it all.” Sy muttered and sat down on the floor, resting his back against the metal frame of his bed. He grimaced as the familiar buzzing of the trimmer started behind him. With the touch of the old blades of the device, Sy winced involuntarily.

“Stop it.” Liv warned, holding onto his shoulder and running the trimmer along his neck. “I know what I’m doing, Captain J.A. Syverson.”

Sy groaned on hearing his full name. Liv staying in his room meant she noticed personal things about him. She had looked through his trunk for a spare t-shirt and casually asked him about his initials written on the metal box. He knew at some point she ought to know about his first name, but he was perfectly fine with being known by his last name for the time being.

“I figured it out by the way.” He could hear the glee in her voice over the buzzing of the machine. “Why did you never tell me your name's John Andrew?” She giggled, brushing the hairs out of his t-shirt.

“I was getting to it.” He mumbled bringing his legs up and resting his arms on them. “Who told you?”

“I’m not going to rat out my informant.” Liv tapped him on his shoulder and indicated him to look up. She trimmed the hair on the top of his head with her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth in concentration. Sy smiled at her adorable face, his fingers itched to touch her. She kissed the top of his head when she noticed his smile, moving onto his side burns next.

He tried to look at her from the corner of his eyes while she trimmed his hair. Everything about this situation felt so domestic. He had no clue he had yearned for something like this, only feeling it now he was experiencing it. It felt blissful and satisfying. Sy also felt delighted about Liv’s cheerful attitude and watching her be her previous self was like a breath of freshness in the stale air of grief that surrounded her.

“All done.” Liv announced. She dusted off the hair, turning his head from side to side to check her work. “Part-time at the local salon has finally paid off.”

Sy was about to stand up to look in the mirror when a knock sounded on the door. Pats, from his men, pushed open the door. A cigarette hung from his mouth, his dark beard scraggly and long. Sy jutted his chin for him to speak, looking himself in the mirror and being content with the way Liv had trimmed his hair.

“Call from the base.” Pats informed, throwing a casual wave towards Liv before heading out into the corridor.

“Duty calls, Captain.” Liv yawned, sniffling and settling down on his bed. “Wake me up when you come back?” She yawned again as she pulled the blanket over her body.

“You’re going to sleep here?” Sy questioned as he walked back to Liv. He smiled as Liv nodded, pulling the blanket up to her nose. Sy looked down at her, smiling as he observed her bundled up on his bed. For the first time in his entire military career, he wanted to neglect his job and just curl up next to Liv. “How do I thank you for a job well done?”

Sy noted how Liv bit her lip between her teeth, looking up at him with mischief dancing in her eyes. She closed her eyes and brought her arm to rest on her forehead. “I’m sure you can come up with something.” She whispered sensuously, peeking at him from underneath her arm.

Sy felt his throat go dry again as several ideas popped up in his head. He cleared his throat and leaned down to place a kiss on her lips. “Will do, ma’am.” He said, stealing another kiss and walking out the room. He looked down at his wrist watch, anticipation already brewing for when he could get back to her.

***

Liv groaned as the voices of men from the other room disturbed her sleep once again. It was a hefty price to pay for being a light-sleeper and living around men who could be boisterous when need be. She turned around to face the wall and pulled Sy’s blanket closer to her face. She breathed in the faint smell of his musk, imagining him to be lying next to her. Habituation was a bitch because she couldn’t get a good sleep until she had Sy’s arms around her.

The door to his room creaked open, alerting her of another presence. She half turned her body to look behind as she heard the door lock and found Sy in the process of removing his holster.

“Back already?” She looked at her wrist watch and noted she still had plenty of time until she had to go to her post. “What did base want-” Her question was cut short as Sy kneeled down next to the bed and captured her lips for a heated kiss. She gasped as he pulled the blanket off her body and threw it unceremoniously on the floor. Without breaking the contact between their lips, Sy climbed on the bed over Liv, capturing her between his limbs.

When they broke away to take a breath, Liv placed her hands on his chest. “What was that?”

“I’m thankin’ ya.” His accent came out prominent and his voice grew huskier. Liv noted how far his pupils were blown as lust overtook his darkening orbs. Running his tongue over his lower lip, Sy leaned down again to kiss her while pulling at her t-shirt tucked in her pants.

Liv’s heart skipped a beat when Sy’s warm calloused hand touched her bare stomach. She arched her back to let Sy pull the t-shirt off her head. She moaned as Sy let his lips travel down the side of her neck, pausing to suck at an erogenous zone which made her toes curl. She grabbed at his t-shirt, tugged at it and helped Sy discard it, adding to the pile of clothes on the floor. She took a moment to marvel at his furry chest, raking her nails over his torso and down to his belly. Her core quivered as she eyed the hairy line that travelled down the middle of his stomach, disappearing beneath his belt.

“I want you so badly right now.” Sy breathed, resuming his work on Liv’s neck, his beard leaving a tingling sensation as it grazed her skin. She reached between their bodies and worked at his belt with an unrestrained urgency. His erection was already beginning to strain against the fabric of his pants, rubbing on her lower abdomen as he moved down to her chest. “I want to fuck you so hard.” He growled against her chest, pulling her bra down to expose her hardened nipples.

Liv gasped as Sy latched onto her nub, sucking at it and grabbing at her other breast. She closed her eyes, drowning herself in pleasure as Sy lavished attention on her tits, sucking and groping each in turn. She palmed Sy through his pants, getting a groan in response that vibrated against her chest. He bucked his hip down, rubbing his crotch against her hand which jostled against her own groin, sending a jolt of excitement throughout her body.

With sweaty hands, she tugged at his pants and pulled them down his hips. Sy shimmed himself out of them and kicked it down to join the discarded clothes. Liv licked her lips, grabbing at Sy’s hardening length which pulled a throaty moan from him. She gulped as she stroked his cock, her fingers unable to fist it entirely in her hand. Sy travelled down her chest leaving kisses along the trail. Her body shivered with what was to come as Sy hurriedly bared her to his gaze.

Lying under Sy’s lascivious stare, Liv’s core throbbed, her stomach fluttered as she felt exposed and vulnerable. She clenched her thighs together as the warmth from her cheeks travelled down to her chest. Sy licked his lips with desire blazing in his eyes. He leaned down again to kiss along her thigh, tickling her with his scruff and nudging her legs apart with his hands. She watched with baited breath, craning her neck to look between her thighs as Sy kissed his path to her mound. Her thighs shuddered as his warm breath washed over her drenched hole. She clutched at the sheets with the anticipation of feeling his mouth on her.

“Get to it already.” Liv pleaded. She could feel Sy smirking against her for which she wanted to just shove his face on her need when suddenly he ran his tongue over her slit. “Fuck.” She rasped as an exquisite pleasure consumed her body. She couldn’t help but moan as Sy pulled her tender folds apart with his fingers, opening her up to him as he lapped at her with voracious hunger.

“You taste delicious, Liv.” He cooed while stopping to pepper kisses on her inner thigh, his finger rimming her clenching pussy. Liv was aware of the many men littered around the compound, some even in the adjacent room. She bit her lip from stopping herself to cry out like a wanton whore as Sy thrusted a thick digit inside her. She grabbed at his shoulder, digging her nails in his skin as he returned to flick his tongue over her clit.

Liv was a squirming mess as Sy worked around her cunt, devouring her with a carnal need and thrusting his finger inside her with fervor. She brought her other hand to her exposed breast, pinching her nipples between her fingers. It wasn’t like Liv was a virgin, but she had to admit she had never felt so overwhelmed by a man eating her out. A strained moan escaped her lips as Sy added another finger and pumped them together, curling them inside her to rub against her swollen bundle of nerves. She could briefly feel his mouth sucking at her sensitive nub, nibbling at it momentarily before licking it.

“Sy.” She groaned. The knot in her belly was tense with her impending orgasm that Sy was trying to draw out from her. She gasped with widened eyes when a third finger entered her tight hole, Sy scissoring them while plunging them in and out of her. It was too much for her to take and with an unrestrained groan she came against his fingers, her body trembling under the intensity of her orgasm.

She laid spent on the bed, sweat covering her skin as ripples of aftershock travelled down her body. Sy licked her clean, placing a gentle kiss on her clit and climbing up to her face. She looked at him with a weak smile, noticing the grin on his lips under his wet whiskers.

“Fuck me, Sy.” She instructed raggedly. Sy leaned down to take her lips in his, her taste lingering on his lips and tongue. She took a shuddering breath as he lined his throbbing cock against her dripping entrance. In one swift move Sy entered her with a grunt, splitting her with his girth and drawing out a sinful moan from the pair. The tip of his cock rubbed against the apex of her womb, teasing it as he moved his hips to pull himself out before plunging inside her again.

“God, you feel so good.” Sy groaned as he began pounding into her with vigor. “I won’t last long.” He warned, laying over her body and bringing his arms underneath her back. He circled her lithe waist with his strong, wide arms as he mercilessly thrusted into her every time reaching up to the hilt, the metal frame of their bed rattling with Sy's thrusts. The sounds outside had faded into nothing, only the wet sound of skin on skin and rhythmic moans reached their ears.

Liv wound her arms around his neck kissing him deeply with a ravenous need to feel every inch of his body. “Cum inside me.” She breathed against his mouth, looking into his eyes with fervent desire. She could feel the unmistakable coiling in her lower belly as Sy’s pelvis ground against her sensitive clit. She knew Sy was close as his thrusts became frantic and his grunts became louder, chasing his release.

Liv dug her face in his neck as another wave of euphoria washed over her making her cry out in ecstasy. Her walls clenched around his pulsating cock and with a guttural, animalistic groan, Sy jerked his hips one last time as he finally reached his release. She felt his release painting her walls, milking him for every drop. The warmth pooling inside her mirroring the warmth pooling in her chest as she regarded Sy above her.

Sy lay over her, careful not to crush Liv with his weight. As he caught his breath, he made to move away but Liv placed her hands on his taut buttocks. halting his movement.

“Stay inside me.” She pleaded with him. Tears pricked at her eyes, her senses overwhelmed with the profound,  all consuming passion she had experienced moments ago. Sy looked up at her, his sweat slicked skin sliding against hers. A soft smile lifted the corners of his lips as his eyes focused on hers.

“I’ve never fallen for someone so hard and so fast.”

Liv stared at him, astonished at his words. She blinked, trying to understand if she was hearing him right. She was at a loss of words, confused and consumed with the fluttering in her chest. She could hear the rapid beating of her heart in her ears as the moments ticked by.

Sy reached up to cup her cheek, sympathy shining in his eyes at the overwhelmed woman in front of him. “You don’t have to say it back, but I think I love you.” He grazed his lips gently over hers, the carnal desire from before replaced with delicate emotion. The silent kiss they shared was soft and placid, enveloping Liv in an unknown tranquillity. “And to answer your question from earlier, base is sending more people here.” he added, with a cheeky smile.

***

Liv gazed at Sy while being seated from across him in his office. He was looking over the papers about the new team arriving later in the day. He wasn’t thrilled about accommodating more people, grumbling about how they worked better in a small unit. She bit her lip as the memories of their frenzied lovemaking from only a few hours earlier came to her mind. There was a huge hickey on her chest which tingled with her heating cheeks.

“Stop staring, Liv.” He mumbled, not even glancing up at her and reaching out to his cup of coffee.

“I’m not staring. I’m admiring.” She teased. She stood up, grabbing her gun from his table and slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Stop stressing about the new people.” She walked up to him and placed a kiss on top of his head. “I’m going to head out.”

“Stay safe.” He called out, shuffling the papers around.

“Be nice.” She winked at him when he looked up.

Liv walked out into the compound with a bounce in her step. Ever since Sy had told her he loved her, she felt elated. She knew she felt something for him but was confused if she liked him or was it love. She didn’t want to mislead him with false promises, waiting to make sure what she felt for him was indeed ‘love’. She'd made that mistake before.

Pepps greeted her near their Humvee. She had grown accustomed to the man’s company and respected him for his skills as a soldier and a negotiator. He tipped his cap at her, pulling his gun up from the hood of the vehicle. “It’s going to be a good day.” He commented before rounding out to the other side and getting into the car.

After an entire day of talking to various men and women who supported their help, Liv was content with their progress in increasing local assistance. One lady had offered her home-made lunch which had smelled delicious but owing to protocols, she had to decline. She had been ecstatic with the new information they had gathered from the informant about the militant leader which was apparent by the bouncing of her leg with impatience.

When they arrived at the camp, Liv noticed the new Humvees parked out front with new faces greeting them at the gate.

“Guess they are here.” Pepps announced, driving their car to an empty spot.

Liv noticed Sloan jogging up to her hurriedly. She alighted the car but was quickly held by the shoulders by the blonde. “You are not prepared for this.” She warned, turning her head to look behind her.

“What-?” Liv questioned but was rendered speechless as her eyes followed Sloan’s line of sight.

It was like the air from her lungs had been punched out. She felt her limbs become cold as a bead of chilling sweat dribbled down her forehead. She gulped as with pressed lips she stared at the one person she did not expect to see, not until she was on leave again. It was like god was laughing at her and plotting to twist her life as she watched both Sy and Alex walk towards her. 

🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟

Chapter Nine>

[anburwell]

Kingdom Come

okay this is the start of a fantasy story me and my friend wrote together. BTS slander on this page is welcomed. no, i don’t care if armies send me death threats, it’s welcomed actually.

Chapter One

“Cordelia, Seungkwan!” Hollis called behind her, “keep up!” she laughed. Hollis wasn’t even sure if they could hear her as she rode her horse at full speed back home. She liked feeling the wind blow through her hair, making her feel like she could fly. Soon enough Hollis rode her horse through the entrance, getting multiple dirty looks from villagers who had to dodge to escape getting hit by her. Hollis chuckled as she stopped in front of the stables, and hopped down to walk him back inside. She turned when she heard the sound of pounding hooves coming towards her, she turned with a smile on her face.

“Took you two long enough,” Hollis teased. The other two just looked at each other flatly before hopping down as well, and walked their horses to the stables each belonged to. Seungkwan huffed, “sorry we didn’t want to run over any of your subjects,” he pointed out sarcastically, “your majesty.” Hollis chuckled and petted her horse Cadifor, “I swear I thought you two were behind me.” Again Cordelia and Seungkwan looked at each other, “that’s strange,” Cordelia began, “not once did you look back to see.” Hollis locked the gate and started walking inside, but paused to turn, “are we going to walk in together or do I have to wait again?” she teased, motioning them to follow. Cordelia just mocks her as they walk.

Hollis, Cordelia, and Seungkwan walked through the kitchen, even though the maids and cooks have told her time and time again not to do that anymore. Cordelia tried to stop her from taking an apple from the bowl, but the effort was in vain. Hollis laughed as she ran up the stairs leading out of the kitchen, followed by the other two apologizing for her. Hollis threw the doors of the dining room open before the guards could for her. Again Cordelia apologized. The candles were the brightest thing in the dining room, fitting for a kingdom home to the deity of midnight. The chairs were all the color of coals, and the paintings weren’t much lighter, the gold fixtures still a dark tarnished shade. It may seem off to some, but for her it felt like home. Her family, excluding two of her brothers, already sat at the table. Cordelia and Seungkwan sat on either side of her. Her father and her brothers were deep in conversation about something.

“Ros,” Ronan began, “did I or did I not disarm one of the knights earlier in the week? Tell father, you were there.” Hollis raised an eyebrow while drinking her wine, then smirked before looking at her father, “oh yes,” she began, trying to be serious, “only after one of the servant girls walked in and asked to speak to him.” Ronan opened his mouth to defend himself, but couldn’t over her father’s loud laughter. The dining room doors opened again and Moddie came in with letters on a tray for Hollis’s mother, “thank you Moddie,” she stated. Moddie bowed before walking out again. “You’ll never guess what we did today,” Hollis began towards her dad and brothers. The other two had walked in after Moddie.

Her father looked up, “what was that dear?” her brothers looked a little interested but not a lot. She smiled, “I practiced archery today,” she began. Her mother looked up slightly from the letters. Her brother Niall noticed and pursed his lips, “some of the knights and watchers were out training today and I joined them. I am turning out to be pretty good.” Her father gave her a bright smile, “well that’s lovely, we might have to get you your own now.” Her mother looked up from across the table, “Arte,” her mother drawled, “they’ve all accepted,” her mother said with a smile. Hollis looked confusedly between her family members, stopping on her mother again.

“What did I do now?” She asked slowly. Her mother looked at her, “Hollis, your father has something to discuss with you.” Her father widened his eyes and put down his goblet rather hard. Her brothers all tried to hide their laughs. He cleared his throat, “Well, Hollis,” he began hoarsely, coughing from choking on his ale, “we, the houses, you know, me and the earls decided.” Her mother groaned, “the earls have accepted to bring a prince from their houses for your hand.” Hollis froze and widened her eyes, “my hand? For what?” Her mother scoffed and shook her head, “for your betrothal.” This time it’s Hollis’s turn to choke on her wine. Cordelia lightly tapping her back.

“My what?” Hollis choked out. Ronan scoffed, “told you she’d take it well.” Her mother shot daggers at him, “Hollis you knew this would happen soon enough. What do you think we have been training you, schooling you for?” Hollis scoffed at her mother and looked at her dad, “dad,” she pleaded. Her father again widened his eyes in surprise, “Hollis,” he stammered and looked at his wife, “Merlyn,” her father drawled. Her mother tilted her head at him, “Hollis, please, it’s marriage it’s not the end of the world.”

Hollis slumped down in her chair, “Mother, suitors? Betrothal? Do I have any say in this at all.” Her mother shook her head, “Hollis, this happens to keep the peace between the houses and not start a war again. But by all means, please write the earls and tell them you’d rather wage war than marry one of the men they have chosen for you.” Hollis huffed and didn’t say anything else the entire dinner.

After dinner Hollis swung her sword against her bed posts, “Cordelia, am I a cow?” She growled while swinging her sword again. Cordelia shook her head, “no love, you are certainly not a cow.” Hollis laughed and swung her sword against the post, “then why,” she groaned, “does my mother get to sell me off like one?”

“Because,” Cordelia began, “from her perspective, technically you are a valuable asset. And look on the bright side here, one of them could be cute.” Hollis froze and looked at her blankly, “or you could like women without telling them to escape and forget this whole thing.” Hollis stopped again and dropped her sword, “hehe, right.” she joked, “that’s a great idea, my escape would be death. Just like it is now.” Seungkwan turned and leaned against the window, “don’t be so dramatic,” he pointed out, “if it all goes to shit, Cordelia and I could poison him and no one would know, then you would be able to rule alone.” Hollis looked at him flatly, “what no, we aren’t poisoning anyone.” she takes a breath. “Very well, if I am supposed to be betrothed then I am going to make it everyone’s problem. Of course I am going to be very thorough.” She paused, “and before you go there, no I am not going to do what you’re thinking, in fact it would be a miracle if i did do that with anyone of those arrogant, high horse, pretentious, ‘kingly’ men the earls have picked out.” Hollis gave the other two a bright, forced smile.

“That’s the spirit,” Seungkwan jokes.

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Mingyu walked into his dining room, the dining room was extravagant to say the least, holding enough seats for his entire royal family, including extended family. The colors mimicked some that were representative of the house, gold being the main one. With ornate workings in the metal plastered about the dining room. He leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek before sitting down with the others. “Oh, Doyun,” his mother said from across the table to his father, “is everything ready for tomorrow?” His father nodded. Mingyu looked between them confused, “what’s tomorrow?” he asked before cutting into his food. Seungcheol laughed nervously and took the knife from him. Again Mingyu looked confused, “what’s tomorrow?” he asked again, giving Seungcheol a weird look.

“You’re going with the others to Jajeong tomorrow,” His mother told him sweetly. He smiled and tilted his head, “why?” he asked, trying not to sound upset. “Come on, Mingyu sweetie,” she began, “I told you a week ago, you’re going to Jajeong tomorrow to meet their Princess, remember?” Mingyu looked at his mom sadly, “but why?” he asked. The other boys at the table rolled their eyes. 

“Because Mingyu,” his father began, “do you want to go to war with them and the others?” Mingyu slumped, “no, but still, it seems awfully degrading to her don’t you think?” he began, “do we even know what she looks like? Has anyone seen her?” Seungcheol put a hand on his shoulder, “well, no,” he began, “but we’ve heard stories and she seems pretty decent. I mean, granted there all rumors so she could be crazy but, hey, you’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” Mingyu’s mother smiled, “Seungcheol honey,” she began, “thank you, but that’ll do.”

Mingyu and Seungcheol walked to his chambers after dinner together, “Seungcheol, why is everyone okay with this? Is she even okay with this?” Seungcheol looked up at him, “well again, we don’t know,” he paused, and hit him lightly on his shoulder, “but maybe you can ask her when you meet her?” Mingyu smiled and nodded, “yeah, if I even get time with her, other guys will be there too you know.”

[scenecipriano]

Hush Now

Part One

Description: Janus knew a lot.. he knew that he was five... and the sky is blue... 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child murder, implied child neglect, implied child abuse, blood, throat cutting, kidnapping, poison, and Unsympathetic Patton

Relationships: Parental Moxiety 

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1887

Janus knew a lot of things, he knew that he was five years old, he knew that the sky was blue, and he knew that his house was red and made with bricks. Janus knew a lot of things… And one thing he knew the most was that his mummy didn’t like him.

...But a nice man with blue eyes liked him…

It was a bright sunny day within Carlisle, England and Janus was spending his time walking through the small village he and his mother lived in. The people within the village always turned away from him, the men would chase him off and the women would never let him play with their little kids.

His mother always said it was because Janus was too ugly for the villagers to like, but the man with bright blue eyes said that Janus was special. He said that the mark on Janus’s face made him more special than the other children in the village and that their parents were just jealous.

“ But mummy said I was ugly…” Janus said.

“Ah, but she is just jealous as well my dear… She’s the true ugly person.”

Janus allows a smile to come to his face as he gently prods at the wine-colored stain that covered his left eye down to his cheek. He was happy to be special, to be seen by someone who thought of him as being normal.

“ Come little children, I’ll take thee away~.”

Janus blinks and looks around him, a sweet voice dances around him. No one else seems to be bothered.

“ Into a land of enchantment, come, little children, the times come to play~.”

He spins around in a small circle when the voice sings again.

“Hello?” Janus calls.

The women walking by him sneer their noses, thinking the child was speaking to them.

“Quiet, you demon child.”

Janus hunches his shoulders and bows his head as he hurries along the path, for a moment he thinks the singing has stopped, only for it to sound once more when walks by the entrance to the nearby woods.

“ Here in my garden of shadows~! Come now, kiddo… won’t you come play with me?”

Janus looks to the entrance, a wide smile immediately coming to his face when familiar piercing blue eyes meet his own mismatched ones.

“It’s you!” Janus exclaims as he runs over to the blue-eyed man.

“It is! I saw you walking and thought you’d like to join me for some tea and biscuits, would you care to join me, kiddo?”

Janus squeals when the blue-eyed man scoops him up into his arms, he takes this chance to finally get a good look at the man’s face.

His face was pale with freckles, his blue eyes shaped like that of a cat’s, along with dark brown curls that were barely being contained under the hooded cloak he wore.

“Please! Mummy didn’t have nough food this morning…”

The man frowns, but it’s quickly replaced with a bright smile.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice of her! You can have as much tea and biscuits as you want, okay?”

“Kay!”

Janus snuggles up to the man, enjoying his warmth. His mother never held him like this, not after the hunting accident his father was in that led to his death. Janus sighs contently when the man begins to sing again.

“ Follow sweet children, I’ll show thee the way, through all the pain and the sorrows~.”

Janus could feel his eyes drooping, his tiny fist clinging tightly onto the man’s cloak. For a moment he swears he hears one of the men in the village for the blue-eyed man to stop, but then he hears nothing as he and the blue-eyed man vanish.

“Wake up, little one, we’re here.”

Janus stirs awake and his eyes slowly blinking open. They widen when he sees a pretty wooden cabin, smoke rose from the chimney, this house was much more welcoming than his red brick one.

“Maybe after you’ve had your snack you can join my son, Virgil in the garden to play. He’s a bit older than you, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Janus perks up at that, the man walks inside the cabin with Janus still in his arms. He tries to look for the man’s son, but he doesn’t see the boy anywhere.

“Mister? Where is your son?” Janus asks.

“Oh, kiddo, call me Patton! Or dad if you like! I’m sure Virgil is around here somewhere, don’t worry you’ll see him soon… Now, let's get you settled for your tea and biscuits, hm?”

Janus allows Patton to set him down in a wooden chair, he looks around the room and notices a lot of empty and full vials, along with countless books and weird symbols that were drawn onto the walls.

Patton stood at a large pot that was hanging over the fire that was built, he was stirring something inside, softly singing that same song from before.

“ Weep not poor children, for life is this way… Murdering beauty and passions~.”

Something felt off, this felt wrong to Janus, something his father told him before he passed… something he’s heard the other parents tell their children.

“ Hush now dear children, it must be this way… too weary of life and deceptions~.”

Beware… Janus knew that word meant to worry.

“ Rest now my children...for soon we’ll away… into the calm and the quiet~.”

Beware… The witch in the woods…

Janus’s eyes widened as he pushed his way out of the chair, he could hear Patton let out a frustrated sigh. He manages to get the door open and one foot out before being grabbed from behind, his scream for help is cut short when a serrated blade cuts through his throat.

The sound of gurgling blood is all that leaves his mouth as Patton drags him back inside, Janus tries to fight only for scalding out tea… no not tea, poison being forced down his throat.

His vision swims in and out, the last thing he sees is a pair of bright blue feline eyes.

And the last thing he hears is…

“ Come little children, the time’s come to play… here in my garden of shadows~.”

When Janus next awakes, he finds himself in a garden. He feels tired and energized at the same time, he rubs his eyes.

“ I’m sorry for what my papa did to you…”

Janus looks startled, a boy that looked just like Patton and he looked to be a year or two older than him.

He opens his mouth to speak, only for not a sound to come out. He remembers the feeling of the serrated knife gliding across his throat, tears prick at the corners of his mismatched eyes.

“ I’ll keep you safe… I’m so sorry…”

Janus allows who he guesses is Virgil, to pull him into a hug.

His body grows tense when he hears that soft familiar voice sings from in the shadows of the garden.

“ Come little children, I’ll take thee away~.”

[pillage-and-lute]

The Courting Ways of Wolves (Part 2)

It’s back! Dumb boys in love! Also Grandpa Vesemir gets some feels and Geralt does some math. Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue

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Watching Winter at Kaer Morhen melt into early spring was always a beautiful process, but this year brought Geralt trepidation as well. Watching Ciri train had been wonderful, helping her learn the basics kept all the wolves on their toes, for the first time in many years actually thinking about motions that normally came from muscle memory. 

Yennefer had flourished into her role as “Aunty Yen,” not sweetly nurturing, the way one often thought about with children, but a clever tongue and tough love that Ciri, granddaughter of the Lioness, seemed completely at home with. 

Geralt was doing his best too. Ciri had started calling him dad about halfway through the winter, the first time happening at dinner and he’d very nearly choked on his ale. It sent something warm running through his veins every time, like good brandy that burned all the way down. 

He was trying, words still didn’t come naturally, but somehow Ciri always seemed to be able to see exactly what he meant. Maybe it was Destiny, maybe just a hurt, lost child clinging to whoever was consistent in her life, but Geralt hoped it was more. More than anything, he hoped Ciri truly understood how cared for she was, not just by himself, but all the wolves, Jaskier, and Yennefer.

Ciri had whispered to him one day, still panting after training, asking if he thought Yen would mind if she called her mom.

Geralt had replied that he didn’t think Yennefer would mind at all.

Yennefer came to him later, a tender look in her eyes. There was something, not fragile in her eyes, but Jaskier had pointed out in a marketplace once, a beautiful porcelain vase that had been broken and artfully repaired with gold. Yen’s expression reminded him of that. 

They sat for a while, then Yennefer said, “Will you be able to let go of her in the spring?” 

“Yes,” Geralt said, although he was less than sure that parting from Ciri would be so easy. “She needs you, and time away from me. And to be around women.”

Yennefer nodded, gave Geralt a pat on the shoulder, and left. Geralt stayed, cloak wrapped around him as he sat looking out over the walls. 

There was much that would happen in the spring, and his life, which had been pretty stagnant before, was changing more in these past few years than it ever had. He felt like Kaer Morhen itself, built to last and yet crumbling still, the weight of change and time and destiny tearing down walls. 

He watched the sun go down. 

Vesemir joined him, carrying two bowls of stew. Geralt took a bite of his and winced. It had been Eskel’s turn to cook. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vesemir’s mustache twitch with a hint of a smile. They ate the oversalted meal in silence.

“You know,” Vesemir said, and in the starlight the crags on his face looked carved in. “I come up here to think too.” 

Geralt knew, but Vesemir wasn’t interested in talking about the battlements, he could tell. 

“I think, most nights, about the ghosts within these walls. All of the little boys who died so that the School of the Wolf could be.” The wind picked up, howling like, with an excellent sense of the dramatic, a wolf. 

“The Trials haunt me, Geralt. More than anything in my life, and it has been a long life indeed.” 

“You saved me,” Geralt said. “Saved Eskel.” But he too remembered the still bodies carried out and buried in the night. How few boys remained. Remembered the screaming in the night, unsure how much of the sound was torn from his own throat, and what came from his brothers dying around him.

“I let them put you through it twice. That wasn’t salvation, lad.” Vesemir sighed. “I couldn’t have put a stop to the Trials, don’t know if I would have if it were possible, there have to be Trials to be witchers, and the world needs us, whatever it may believe. But maybe there was a better way. A kinder way. You were boys, little lads who went through so much pain.”

Geralt was startled to see a tear fall down the craggy face, burying in the moustache. Witchers could cry, but it happened rarely, tears could blur vision in a fight, and only very strong emotion, the sort they had been taught to suppress,  could override the mutations. 

And then Vesemir put an arm around Geralt’s shoulder and gave him an oddly nice hug. It could have cracked a boulder.

“Someone should have held you boys more,” Vesemir said, a touch abashedly. They looked out over the walls some more and Geralt wondered if the conversation was over, but Vesemir didn’t take the arm away.

“Ciri called me Grandpa today.”

Ah. That would explain a lot. Watching Vesemir interact with Ciri over the winter had been a delight and a surprise to the wolves. He’d even sat her on his knee and told her stories of when Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt were young like a, well, like a doting grandfather. Jaskier had been enthralled as well, naturally, but seeing Vesemir so soft, and sometimes looking a little sad, around Ciri, had been an education for the men who would always think of themselves as ‘Vesemir’s Little Lads’.

“She won’t be a witcher,” Vesemir said. “Couldn’t be even if we would want it, and I never would.”

“No,” Geralt said.

No,” agreed Vesemir. They looked out over the darkened landscape.

“I never wanted a family,” Vesemir said after a while where their breaths hung in the air before them. “‘O course, witchers aren’t supposed to, but you’ve built a nice little family for yourself, laddie. It’s not as may be, not like you’d find in villages or in your pet bard’s fancy songs. But you’ve a brave and rather headstrong daughter, and she has a mum, and a dad, and two already very protective uncles.”

“And a grandpa,” Geralt cut in.

“And a grandpa,” Vesemir agreed. “But a family needs a little more than that. There’s gotta be someone to teach the lass how to love.”

Geralt was about to protest that he’d seen plenty of loveless marriages, but then considered the results in the children. Jaskier was one, he knew. The sort of lost way Jaskier sucked up approval, when they’d first met, the way he’d drank up compliments like a man with water in the desert, whenever Geralt thought on it there was a sort of humming ache. He’d consulted with Eskel on the feeling, concerned it was illness. Apparently, it was just what happened when someone you loved was hurting and it wasn’t something you could kill or fix.

“It doesn’t need to be romantic love,” Vesemir said, obviously seeing Geralt’s face. “And she’ll know how to love family fine, and how to love friends, as you and Yennefer figure that out between the two of you. But your bard loves you, and the way you love him can teach her how to love others and herself. And if Ciri has another dad maybe you can worry less.”

Geralt chuckled. Ciri could have fifty parents, and Geralt would still lose sleep worrying. Vesemir smiled back at him, eyes crinkling and moustache lifting like a bristle brush that had learned to fly. Then he slapped Geralt on the back, and Geralt, the White Wolf of Rivia, Butcher of Blaviken, the witcher who had twice survived the Trials, felt his spine compress like a spring and he was sure he felt a rib creak.

“Love Jaskier, lad. Hold tight to him. We rarely get good things.”

Then Vesemir walked back inside and Geralt stared after him. There weren’t many old witchers, dangers of the job and all that, but Vesemir was proof that witchers, like oak wood, only solidified with age. 

Geralt followed him inside. 

The next days passed in a flurry of activity. Ciri had been let off of training with the wolves to pack for her journey with Yennefer, and to be quickly given the rundown of the basics of magic. The wolves were packing as well, preparing to leave Kaer Morhen. In between final preparations and weapon repair, Geralt checked over The List.

The List was supposed to help him court Jaskier. It was the combined brainchild of everyone (except Jaskier, of course) at Kaer Morhen. More importantly, his intention to court Jaskier met with Ciri’s approval. 

When the day arrived, Geralt felt a curious lump in his throat. He watched Ciri say goodbye to Eskel and Lambert, the latter picking her up and swinging her in an arc, letting her joyful whoop echo about the courtyard. Then she hugged Vesemir, and he crushed her very gently to him. And then she turned to him and Jaskier. 

He was thankful that Ciri bade Jaskier goodbye first, watching the bard wipe a surupticious tear away as he held the blonde girl. It was Geralt’s turn and he didn’t know what to do. He cleared his throat.

“Follow Yennefer’s instructions,” he said. That didn’t seem like enough. “And don’t talk to strangers,” he said. It still seemed insufficient but he was out of advice so he stuck out his hand to shake. Ciri laughed and leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

He held her there, reveling in hugging his daughter, his child surprise, who was so full of surprises and he felt, for the first time in many years, the feeling of rather full tear ducts. He blinked them away. 

“Good luck,” Ciri whispered in his ear. Jaskier wouldn’t have heard, but the witchers with their enhanced hearing surely had. Geralt nodded and set her down.

He coughed awkwardly and pulled out a little packet wrapped in burlap and some rough twine. Ciri beamed and pulled at the string so that the packaging fell away. A long piece of metal, bent into a thin U shape lay in his palm, the ends were surprisingly sharp. Ciri picked it up and examined it, then looked up at him questioningly. 

“Hair pin,” Geralt said gruffly. “For your hair. And stabbing.” He mimed a clumsy, underhanded stab. “Eskel helped me silver plate it. For monsters. But also men, if they’re close enough.” He trailed off, knowing he sounded awkward. Who gave a self defense implement as a gift?

Ciri beamed at him again. “I love it,” she said, also miming a few stabs. He supposed that as a parent he shouldn’t be so proud of the light in his daughter’s eyes when she talked about stabbing, but he was almost certain that she got that trait from Jaskier, who tended to get...pointed about disagreements in pubs.

Yennefer stepped forward and carefully took the hair pin from their daughter, swooping her silver blonde hair back into a twist and sliding it in place. She placed a hand on Ciri’s shoulder and smiled at Geralt, and he was reminded again of that vase, stronger and more beautiful for the cracks in the facade. She then gave him a quick side hug and and even one for Jaskier, and opened a portal.

Geralt stared after his friend and his daughter long after the portal closed, until Jaskier, hand wrapped in a heavy mitten, gently took his wrist. They waved to the other wolves, and left, Roach walking obediently alongside. 

And then it was just the two of them. Again. Just like the last twenty years. That thought occupied him as they made it down the Killer. The path down from Kaer Morhen was deadly, but that year Geralt made it down without thinking, keeping half a thought to Jaskier’s ambling form as he went.

How old was Jaskier? 

He’d been eighteen or so when they met. Eighteen plus twenty-two was forty. Forty wasn’t that old for a human but Jaskier didn’t look too much different than he had at...Geralt did the math. Twenty-five? But there were signs. A few lines here and there, although Jaskier was insistent about his skincare. A line of silver, just a few hairs, probably unnoticable except to Geralt’s enhanced eyes. He was aging better than a human should.

Or perhaps not. Time was tricky for witchers, never staying in one place, never knowing people long enough to watch them age, he didn’t really know what to compare Jaskier to. 

He did know how long humans lived though. And at the base of the mountain he came to a resolution, felt it settle in to his bones as deep as his mutations, deeper, even. 

Twenty years, or nearly, where he hadn’t known Jaskier. Twenty more where he hadn’t admitted they were friends, or that he loved him. Eighty years in a human life span. And Geralt would love Jaskier, and make sure he knew he was loved, for the next four decades, give or take. He looked at his companion, paused as they were to give their feet and Roach a rest. The weak, watery sun of the early spring day fell on Jaskier’s face, dappled through the branches, which as of yet held no buds.

He pictured lines appearing, laugh lines, smile lines, crinkles carving themselves into the landscape of the familiar features. He pictured silver through the hair, more, in thicker streaks at the temples. Geralt saw a lifetime, Jaskier’s lifetime, in an instant. Silver covered warm brown, strong legs grew shakey, lines crowned a forehead and swept about clear eyes. 

What would happen, Geralt thought, when Jaskier could no longer keep up? But Geralt knew what would happen. He’d take Jaskier to Kaer Morhen, or go with him to Oxenfurt, and spend his days with him. It had been a few short months since he’d realized he was in love with Jaskier, but that was only because Geralt’s skill with emotions was roughly similar to Jaskier’s apparent self preservation. Why had he let the lad talk to him in a pub? Had he loved him then? He remembered the shock of not being feared, of looking into clear, bright eyes and seeing admiration, the fierce protectiveness that had flared when he woke and saw the fool tied to him in an elven lair. Had it been love? 

Watching Jaskier whisper softly to Roach as snow melted around him, Geralt was sure it had been. Destiny, Fate, the two bit tart who kept fucking him over, had given him his greatest blessing in a form that Geralt, up until that very second had considered a myth. Love at first sight. Love had brought him Jaskier, and Ciri, and a fast friendship with the most powerful mage on the Continent. Love had brought him a family in the form of a wayward bard with bread in his pants. And Geralt had forty more years to cherish him. 

Step One the list had said in Eskel’s clear writing. Kiss his hand. Being mindful of Step Two, to mind his manners, Geralt crossed the clearing to Jaskier and took the thick woolen mitten in his gloved hand. 

“May I?” he said. Jaskier gave him a baffled look, but nodded.

Geralt pressed chapped lips to a palm wrapped in knitted wool, and Jaskier smiled, albeit a little confusedly. It didn’t matter. Geralt wanted to spend the next forty years wrapped in that smile. 

Then Jaskier asked him if he was feeling well.

[youllallriseintheink]

Sammy and Jack. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Crisis of Faith, chapter 2

Sammy didn’t dream of Jack again until his next crisis of faith, and Sammy’s faith was very difficult to break. It had begun while Sammy, now a lost one made of fluid ink, was hiding in a wall, watching as a severely ink-infected woman raved.

“Mother, why do you punish me!?” she shouted as, with all the power left in her body, she tried to force open the padlocked doors of the women’s washroom. Her veins, prominent due to age and leanness, were a pitch-black web on her skin, and her wiry muscles had wasted away to bone.

Sammy had, on Joey’s command, overseen dozens of ink infections by now, and knew that there was nothing unusual about Emma Lamont’s case of it. Every single victim he had overseen had held some kind of delusion. Some believed that they were being poisoned by the government or their enemies, or that they were developing a mental illness. A very common one, however, was that they were receiving some sort of punishment, test, or reward from an all-powerful being- either God, or from a seemingly random entity that they’d decided to treat as one.

What if... Sammy’s beliefs were no different from this madwoman, screaming at the ghost of her mother?

Sammy moved on to check on the other infection victims. Even if Bendy wasn’t to be worshipped, the thought of ascension was all that kept him going. He sacrificed people on Joey’s command because the ink had told him to. He wrote his scriptures because he believed they were meaningful. He led the lost ones to Bendy and away from the lies their voices had told them because he truly believed that his voice had been the truth, and it seemed to give them hope, too.

Sammy passed  through the prison of ink creatures as he made his way to Joey’s sanctuary, where he now slept. A Charley was repeatedly banging its head against the bars of its cage. Lost ones wept. Ink stained every surface, making the brightly-lit room feel suffocatingly dark. Sammy was glad to phase through the wall into Joey’s sanctuary, where he could lie down on the couch and rest.

All this had to be leading to something. He couldn’t take it otherwise.

---

Sammy woke to the feeling of someone softly shaking him awake. He opened his eyes to see Jack, tears in his eyes and that disarming smile on his face.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Jack asked gently.

Sammy, with a bit of difficulty, sat up and realized that he was in a hospital room, complete with an IV in his arm. He felt very weak, but also lighter- like a burden had been taken off of him. “Awful,” he admitted.

“Well, you want some good news? The ink is gone. All of it. You still have a lot of organ damage, but it’s nothing they can’t fix in a couple weeks. In other words, it’s over, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay.”

It took Sammy a half a minute to even process that. Once he did, though, he broke into tears of relief and hugged Jack as tightly as he could.

“Thank you. God, thank you for making me come here. You saved my life.”

Jack hugged him back. “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything. I know this took a lot of courage for you. And... I’m really glad you did it. I was so scared when I found you in your sanctuary. You were so sick... I thought I’d lose you. Sammy, I think I love you. But... we can talk about that later. Right now, you need to rest.”

“I love you, too.” Easiest words Sammy had ever said.

After a little more chatting, Jack left. Sammy wandered over to the bathroom to get a look at himself in the mirror. Admittedly, he didn’t look great. He looked like a person who’d narrowly survived a life-threatening illness, because that’s what he was. His skin was still pale and sunken, and he was still pretty gaunt, but the black veins, the bruise-like purple splotches on his skin, and even the staining in his mouth and his long, blond hair- it was gone. When Sammy woke, he would have given anything to see his human face again.

---Two years later---

As often happened whenever Sammy decided to play his banjo, a small crowd had gathered around him. Today, the crowd consisted of three lost ones, Jack (of course), a moderately ink-infected woman, and one of their last healthy men. The song Sammy was playing was "I’ll fly away.” He wasn’t singing it today, but he had sang it for his followers in the past, simply replacing the word, “God’s” with “his,” since “Bendy’s,” unfortunately, was two syllables.

“You know, it’s amazing how you can remember music like that,” said David, the only non-infected person in attendance. “I'm already forgetting the words to my favourite songs since it’s been so long since we’ve been able to just turn on a radio. How do you do it?”

Sammy would have smiled if he still had a mouth. “Well, a part of it is just natural ability,” Sammy admitted. “But. I have a secret to tell you. A part of it is faith. Faith can do great things. Collective faith in Bendy is the reason that we are the largest organization in this dimension. This village was built on faith. Faith keeps us united! Faith keeps us safe! And... faith allows me to to see into the old world every night when I close my eyes. I hope that all of you one day achieve that absolute belief that something in this world is good.”

“Heh. I’m trying. But all I have are nightmares of Bendy,” a lost one complained.

“Well, keep trying. Believe in his benevolence.” With that, Sammy got up and left for bed, patting Jack on the head on the way out. If only they knew that he used to be plagued by those same nightmares.

---

Sammy’s dream came in to form. He was on a bus, sitting next to Jack. Outside their window, snow was falling gently over a pretty,  snow-covered forest. For a while Sammy just sat in peace, holding Jack’s hand and enjoying the scenery.

“Excited to see your parents again? I know I can’t wait to meet them.”

Sammy nodded. “I can’t wait.” Sammy had always wanted to introduce Jack to his parents. He remembered that there was a strong reason why he hadn’t done it while he was alive, but he couldn’t remember what it was. “My Dad is going to love you. You’re a lot like him, you know. Do you remember why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Because I’m a man,” Jack answered, totally calm.

“Oh!” Sammy had forgotten a lot about the outside world since his transformation, but nothing so big as the existence of homophobia. It was kind of alarming that the ink was affecting his brain that much. “God. I’m so... forgetful. I’ll just have to introduce you as my musical partner or something. It’s unconventional, but they've seen me do weirder.”

“You  know, Sammy, it’s like you got new lease on life after the ink incident. I love that. But yeah, you’re forgetting things left and right!” Jack teasingly jabbed him with his elbow.

“Yeah... Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Jack said. Sammy worried what Jack would think, but looking into those calm brown eyes, he trusted him to not to react badly. And it would be nice to have one person he didn’t have to lie to.

“This is a dream. In the real world, I never got help for my ink infection, and now me and dozens of other people are trapped a dimension full of monsters. I’m holding a large band of people together by convincing them to collectively worship one of them. And you,” Sammy took a deep breath, “you’re there, too. But you haven’t had a coherent thought in years. I keep hoping that one day, we’ll make it out, and I’ll be able to confess to you and we’ll actually build a life like this. So... I’m forgetful because that ink is affecting my mind, and I’m happy because this world is my escape. And because you’re here, of course.” Sammy couldn’t meet Jack’s eyes. He’d probably just made himself sound like a lunatic.

Jack turned Sammy’s head to look at him. “Hey. I believe you. And... that sounds really rough. I wish I could help you.”

Sammy smiled. “Thanks. But you've been helping me all along.” Sammy laid his head on Jack’s shoulder. Maybe once the bus stopped, they’d get some hot chocolate and look at some shops before seeing his parents. It would be nice.

---

Sammy was violently shaken awake by a trio of searchers. More were behind them- as though half the village had crammed itself into his bedroom.

“Bendy is here!” one of them yelled. “What do we do?”

That was a good question. Sammy reached for his axe, but then he stopped. This was, according to the gospel he’d been feeding them, their saviour. “Go out to greet him,” Sammy instructed, trying not to sound as hesitant as he felt. “Bring him offerings of bacon soup. Bring everyone, even the Boris clones- they used to be human, too.”

The crowd of lost ones dispersed. Sammy watched with bated breath from the balcony of his lost-one village home as a massive crowd- lost ones, searchers, people both infected and healthy, and their three Boris clones- gathered along the ink river. Dozens of cans of bacon soup were placed along the river bank as an offering. Bendy stood on the other side of the river. Their drawbridge lowered, but Bendy decided instead to walk on the ink’s surface like the God they treated him as. The crowd gasped and made way. Bendy took an ink-infected man in one arm, stroked his cheek, and bit his face off.

Screams filled the air. People ran in all directions. Sammy was frozen for several seconds before he took action.

“Everyone! Run for cover! We have displeased him! I repeat, run for cover!” Sammy's booming, demonic voice covered the great distance it needed to. Upon seeing the people run and Bendy chase after them, Sammy himself slammed shut his doors and windows and listened in horror to the screams.

When it was over, all he could think to tell his people was that they needed to reconsider how they were paying tribute to the ink demon. If they changed their methods just a little, then the demon would be helpful instead of violent, and they would be freed.

To Sammy’s mixed relief, they actually believed it.

---

eleven years went by. Within the first three, every single flesh-and-blood person in the sketch dimension was infected, killed, or both, and became a lost one.

Their minds were rotting. Increasing numbers of lost ones struggled to remember anything about themselves or the outside world. Wandering aimlessly or resting in ink puddles, they were helpless as zombies.

But not Sammy. Sammy remained- comparatively, at least- as sharp as a whip, and told the lost ones tales so vivid about the outside world that they could almost taste its brilliance and freedom. Sammy only wished that Jack- the real Jack- could understand any of it.

There was nothing to do about that but what Sammy had been doing all along: keep the community together. Keep the lost ones moralized and sane. Figuratively and literally dream of a  better world. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Sammy didn’t want to forget a thing about the real world, but little pieces had fallen away, bit by bit. In his dreams, there were now places he couldn’t visit because he didn’t remember what they were like. His reflection in the mirror had become a human-shaped blur as he forgot his appearance. The same thing had happened to the faces of people he used to remember clear as day. One day, he would forget it all, too- just as everyone else had.

It was hard to keep hope.

One of Sammy’s dreams found him walking down a beach with Jack at his side. Sammy knew that the two of them had relocated at some point, but he didn’t know to where. His American geography was rather fuzzy at this point.

“Can I vent to you about the other world?” Sammy asked.

“Sure,” Jack said. Jack was one thing that Sammy’s memory hadn’t gone fuzzy on. Sammy still remembered every soft curve of his face, every freckle, every detail. His dark brown hair was starting to grey, but not because Sammy remembered him that way- it had been many years, and growing old together was part of the fantasy.

“Bendy came to the village again today. He killed a few lost ones and then left. People are losing faith in me and I don’t know how to get it back. And to make matters worse, a false prophet is going around saying we should worship the angel instead! She’d enslave us if we did that!" Sammy chucked a baseball-sized rock into the water, then composed himself a bit. “And you know, we’re all going to be mindless drones eventually. I’m thinking... maybe I won’t fight the false prophet. I could leave the village, hide in a vent, and spend as little time awake as possible. Ink creatures can sleep for days, you know. What do say? Can we stay like this forever? Enjoy this world until I lose my mind like all the rest?” Sammy took Jack’s hands and looked desperately into his eyes.

Jack hesitated, but by the look on his face, Sammy already knew what his answer would be. “I’m sorry. You know I have to say no. The lost ones need you.”

“But why am I the one who has to stay strong for them? I’m sick of it.”

“Because you’re the one who can. I know it isn’t fair, but you’re the reason they’ve been protecting each other. And it sounds like if you leave them now, they’ll throw themselves at Alice. Do it for them. And if you can’t bring yourself to care about them... do it for me. The real me. You still love him, right?”

“Of course...” Sammy probably would have done this sooner if he didn’t care about the well-being of his searcher friend.

Jack put a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “I don’t know how, but you’ll get out some day. And in the meantime, I’m here.”

Sammy tried to think of some objection, but he couldn’t. He muttered a “thanks” and kept walking along the beach. Jack followed. It was, if nothing else, a beautiful night, and he might as well enjoy it.

“Jack... tell me what I look like. I don’t care that it’ll just be something you made up. Tell me anyhow.”

[feralcherry]

Naruto takes that might enrage you (girl addition)

Warning, some of these takes might enrage you- that’s fine.

Fillers don’t count as canon, don’t even bring them up if you talk about this post lol. Also it’s been a while since I’ve seen the whole series, so some of these might be disproven as I continue with my rewatch. The excuse that Shounen is for boys is also very weak and holds no weight, as tons of girls (and nonbinary folk) relate to the characters in this show, so that doesn’t excuse Kishimoto for his weak writing of women.

To preface, I love this show. Love it to pieces. It was part of my childhood and holds a very special place in my heart. But there are some things I personally don’t like or wish could have been done better. I love every character and will go blue in the face talking about how much I still love this show. That doesn’t free it from my criticism. I’m also only listing what I don’t like and what I would change, though I’d be more than happy making a post about what I loved.

Let’s start off with my girl Sakura Haruno. She is easily the most hated girl in the series, and all because of how ‘weak’ or ‘annoying’ she is. As if that’s not the fault of Kishimoto himself lol. She was shoved off to the side continuously and never given cool storylines, unlike the other members of her team.

What I took issue with about Sakura:

-What were this girls dreams?? The whole reason she became a ninja was never really talked about nor were they really developed as time went on. She was all about Sasuke, which would be fine if she grew out of it. But no. 

-Her crush on Sasuke was super stale. He was handsome and powerful, but what else was there to him? He was a jerk to her most of the time (there are some instances he’s somewhat kind to her, but if we go off canon, it’s not enough to make her deep love make sense). I think it would have been so much more interesting to see her grow out of her infatuation for him. If they had to have ended up together, watching them relearn each other and fall in love would have made them more compelling. She stayed loving a boy who thought very little of her. 

-She’s pitted against her best friend and doesn’t develop much of a relationship with other girls her age. It’s kind of sad, and I think they should have fought over something other than a boy. 

-We are told repeatedly that she’s super powerful by other characters, but she’s never given time to truly shine. She got like a single battle with Sasori and she deserved more cool moments like that!

-She was a healer, which makes perfect sense. But why is it mostly girls who are the healers? It’s a bit weird, when there’s also Neji with his perfect chakra control. She only has her healing abilities and her super strength; but even then someone like Kabuto has more offensive healing based techniques than her. Like his chakra scalpel. 

What I would fix:

-New dreams. Show her find a dream outside of her team and grow into it. Also give her more of a backstory. Sai has more of a backstory than she does and he’s way newer than she is.

-I would let her fuck up one of the Peins instead of Konohomaru- she’s a main character and passed over for that little brat?? She should have gotten to do more than scream out for Naruto and heal people :/ 

-She her intellect a bit more. She’s so smart, and yet we don’t really see it.

-She’s perfect for genjutsu, Kakashi himself said so. So why not give that to her? Or play more with ninjutsu. She has earth and water on her chart, so why not give her those abilities? Maybe even wood jutsu to even her out with her super OP teammates. Idk how, it could have happened, this is a show full of demons and god like abilities, it could have happened someway.

-She should have grown out of Sasuke and not married a man who doesn’t really appreciate her and isn’t there for her at all.

-I would totally have expanded on Inner Sakura more. Imagine if it made her mind impenetrable? Could have woven that in with her skills for genjutsu and made her unaffected by other’s illusions.

Next, let’s go with a more beloved character of the fandom. Hinata. Now personally I don’t care much for her- she could have been so cool but just like Sakura, they kind of messed her up.

What I didn’t like about Hinata:

-Her entire existence is revolves around Naruto. Naruto this, Naruto that- and yet she simply sat back and watched as his life was shit and did nothing despite her ‘love’ for him. And then fillers/movies are added to show that oh wait! she’s been there this entire time!! no lol. Build her up from the start as his love interest at the very least.

-She stayed super meek the entire time. Shy girls are okay, but I wanted to see her grow into herself more and not need as much reassurance. She’s a ninja and should stand on her own two feet more.

-She’s less skilled then Neji and I would have loved to see her outmatch him at some point, even once. Or gain abilities outside of her clan, or do something that made a name for herself outside of being the heiress of the Hyuga.

-She never fixed her clan which was one of her few spoken goals. That was a huge bummer.

-I think it would have been cool to see her mess up Pein a little more. She only stepped in because it was Naruto, which reinforces that she’s only about him. But at least let her land a hit if she’s as powerful as people say she is. 

-She makes the most sense to be a housewife or a healer with the way her attitude is but in Boruto, she’s kind of rewritten to be a ‘scary’ mother which just doesn’t fit her. Plus, she tells Boruto to go and take care of his dad?? Bro, that’s your child and your husband is the hokage. 

What I’d fix:

-Prove her dad wrong and show him that her compassion isn’t a weakness but a strength. 

-Fix the Hyuga clan bs.

-More character growth and showing more of her life away from Naruto. Her romance with him could also have been better. I hated her always watching him but never standing up for him, it kills me.

-Neij dying for her proved their clans hierarchy bs to be right and it just doesn’t make sense for him to die for her. It showed that he was right to feel caged and that he simply existed for the benefit of the Main family.

Now with the others, there’s much less I have to say about them because they aren’t main characters or the love interests.

Ino-

-Jealous of Sakura, no dreams of her own, stupidly loves Sasuke and for what? WHAT’S SO COOL ABOUT HIM?

-I like her growth for the most part, it was cool watching her fight in the War Arc with her team. 

-Why is she the medical ninja? I never got that.

-She got with Sai but they didn’t really show their development and how they fell in love with each other. It’s like she only likes him because he looks like Sasuke and called her pretty once.

Tenten-

-Should have gotten to train with Tsunade at some point, since she was the one who originally idolized her. 

-We know nothing about this girl at all. She doesn’t even have a last name.

-Her weapon usage was meant to be so cool and yet she missed so often- there’s a disconnect there. Her abilities could have been built up more. Imagine if no matter what she never ever missed. That would have been cool.

-Her weapon shop isn’t doing well. Just because it’s an era of peace doesn’t mean the need for weapons is totally over, not if there are still active ninja??

Karin-

-I actually like her, she’s kind of funny and I like that she’s mean even if she can get annoying.

-Again, another healer, though she’s also sensory which is more interesting. I’d like to see her with some jutsus though. That would have been neat.

-Her love for Sasuke makes sense since he saved her and smiled at her, making her think of him as her hero. And she’s the only one he apologizes to without Naruto strong arming him into it.

Temari-

-She’s pretty solid in my opinion. Though I would have loved to see her more without her brothers.

Konan-

-Her goals in life were to support Yahiko and Nagito’s dreams. It would irritate me so much if other girls in the series were more well rounded and din’t also have some sort of dream involving a boy.

-She was underused. I would have loved to see her fight more.

Tsunade-

-Only becomes hokage to support others dreams...All of them men. And then later passes the title onto Kakashi who doesn’t even want to be Hokage either. 

-No other justus used, she’s on par with Jiraya and Orochimaru and yet she’s only super strong and the best medic. She should theoretically be more well rounded than that, right? She also should be shown fighting more even if she’s a medic, she’s also s legendary sannin 

-Had to be saved by 12 year old Naruto. I know it’s a show about him, but she’s meant to be a literal badass but needs a kid to save her.

Kushina-

-Wanted to become the first woman hokage and then didn’t. Her husband did. and then she became a housewife?? What?? She should have become the first woman hokage with a badass husband or had another prominent role in the village like as a council member or something.

Kurenai-

-Always lost a fight? She’s some genjutsu using badass but always lost fights.

-No real personality, she’s just chilling there. Sexy as hell though. Has a kid and that’s about it.

-What I will give her is that I’m so glad she was allowed to age. So many anime mothers always look the same as their teenage self and she looks like she can be anybody's mama.

Over all, the girls could have been handled much better. I wouldn’t find issues with any of them being housewives or all about boys if that weren’t what seems to be the standard in the anime. I just wanted more of a variety and better character development, especially for Sakura and Hinata who are the mains 😩

Now to what might REALLY piss people off- ships! I’m not trying to start some war here, this is just my opinion and you can take it or leave it.

Sakura- Naruto, since they had the most development and showed more than two seconds of caring for each other. Even Sai in Shippuden has more of a connection to Sakura than Sasuke did.

Ino-Shikamaru, if she had to end up with a guy it makes sense it’d be him since they spend more time together than her and Sai did. (inosaku for the win tho)

Hinata-Shino or Kiba, again, because they spent more time with her. Naruto and her felt very rushed and I don’t quite understand the appeal.

The one that made the most sense and became canon was Shikatem, though their son’s design was lazy :D 

If I do a second part, it’ll be about the boys and the ships with them that made sense to me. For now, this is all I have. If you’ve made it this far, thank you lol

byeee

[the-badger-mole]

Traditional

“You scared?” 

Zuko’s mouth pulled down slightly at the corners, but after years of practicing diplomacy and his uncle’s lessons on holding his temper, that was the only show of Zuko’s displeasure. 

“I have no reason to be afraid,” he said. He quirked his brow at Katara and met her gaze pointedly. “According to you.” Katara shrugged, though it was difficult to tell under her heavy, fur lined parka. 

“Well, Dad and Sokka already like you,” she reminded him.”It’s just everyone else you have to convince.” 

Zuko rolled his eyes, wishing that the Southern Water Tribe was like...well any place else in the world. Having the Chief and his heir on his side would have been enough in literally any other country in the world. But this wasn’t anywhere in the world. This was the Southern Water Tribe. Their numbers were still small after all this time, and they were fiercely loyal to each other. Families were intimately involved in each others’ lives. Beside him, Katara nudged him gently. He felt the comforting pressure of it through his own thick parka. 

“You’re going to be fine,” she promised, flashing him a reassuring smile.

 Her eyes were full of trust and confidence, and it bolstered Zuko’s own. But only just slightly. After all, he was about to ask her entire extended family for their blessing to marry her. It was...daunting. 

“What if...what if they don’t like this?” Zuko asked. Katara shrugged with a bravado that Zuko knew she didn’t feel. 

“I already said yes,” she said. “I’m old enough to make my own choices. Dad, Sokka and Gran Gran will understand. If anyone else has a problem with it...well, we just won’t invite them to the wedding.” 

“I don’t want to cause problems with you and your family,” Zuko lowered his voice, as if anyone could hear him. He and Katara had climbed to the ship’s crows nest, both for the privacy and to catch the first glimpse of Katara’s home. Katara sighed and rested her head against Zuko’s shoulder.  “You’re my family,” Katara said firmly. “I love you, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Besides, we’ve been dating for two years. There were only two ways for this to end.” 

Zuko sighed and pressed his forehead against  Katara’s hair. She was right, of course. As Fire Lord, openly courting a woman meant that she was being seriously considered as his wife. He and Katara had spoken at length about the expectations before they decided to start dating. Then they spent another eternity talking with Iroh, Hakoda and Sokka about the expectations before going public with their relationship. If anyone was taken by surprise by their engagement at this point, then it was really out of Katara and Zuko’s hands. They had followed protocol more strictly than any Fire Lord and potential Fire Lady had in at least the last two centuries.Still...

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going to happen here?” Zuko asked. Katara sat up and shrugged. 

“I’ve told you what I could,” she said. “You have to speak to my father, Gran Gran and Sokka about your intention. Then you present me with your gifts, and then my closest male relatives take you hunting.” 

That was the part that gave Zuko pause. He knew better than to think Hakoda or Sokka would harm him (permanently), but Katara said that Bato and Pakku would likely be there as well. Zuko had interacted with both men a handful of times since the end of the war, and they had been courteous, if a bit cold. They grew even more frigid after he started dating Katara. He wasn’t sure how either of them would treat him out on the tundra. Away from Katara. Away from witnesses in general. It would be all too easy to arrange an accident...

“Would you stop worrying?” Katara reached up and poked Zuko where his brow furrowed over his nose. “It’ll be fine. You’ve been hunting before.” 

“Not on ice,” Zuko grumbled. “And never while trying to impress my fiancee’s family.” 

“Don’t worry, they already like you!” 

Zuko recalled the last time he had interacted with Katara’s step-grandfather and waterbending master. He had given the Water Tribe elder a deep, respectful bow-something unheard of for a Fire Lord to do. He rose to find Pakku eyeing him critically and prepared with a comment on how sloppy the bow was, and how in the Northern Tribe, young men were taught to show their elders the utmost respect. 

“We’ll be there soon,” Zuko said, casting his narrowed gaze over the horizon. “Are you ready?” Katara leaned up and pressed a kiss to Zuko’s cheek.

“I’ve been ready for this for two years.” 

****

Per the Southern Water Tribe’s custom, Katara disembarked the ship first, on a dinghy, so she could greet Zuko with her family. As the chief’s daughter,  all of the Southern Tribe was considered family, and so had the right to be there when Zuko came to ask for a blessing on his and Katara’s upcoming marriage.

 For two days Zuko was left on his ship while the village prepared for his official arrival. Any representatives from the surrounding villages who wanted to be present would arrive during this time, and the family members who would be joining the hunt would make sure that their supplies were ready. Ordinarily, the suitor would have his own preparations to make, but Zuko had done everything he was supposed to before he left Caldera. All he could do for two days was drive himself, his uncle and his crew insane with last minute worries. 

“What if she doesn’t like what I got her?” Zuko asked his uncle.

“I’m sure she’ll love your gifts,” Iroh assured him. 

“Has the guest room been prepared in case her grandmother wants to come back with us?” Zuko asked the ship’s captain. It was a possibility that Katara had prepared him for. Usually, the mother of the intended went with her daughter to her future home to help get her set up and meet her future in-laws. Kanna might not feel up to the cross ocean trek, but she might decide to go after all. Zuko wanted to make sure the voyage was as comfortable as possible.

Then Zuko had inventory taken on all the supplies he had brought for Katara’s village. In the eight years since the end of the war, the Southern Water Tribe had slowly, but surely begun to come into their own power. Still, Katara assured him that the extra fabric, metal, and spices would be welcomed. When he was done with all of that, there was nothing left for him to do but wait. 

Finally, at around noon on the second day, it was finally time for the Fire Lord to arrive in the village. Stepping off of the boat felt eerily similar to the first time he had first set foot onto the icy land eight years earlier. Things had certainly changed. He was no longer a desperate 16 year-old boy on an impossible mission. He wore practical wool and furs instead of slightly too large battle armor. The piers had been rebuilt in the intervening time, and Zuko had seen them himself several times before without the odd knot in his stomach. But like that first time, he was met with rows of solemn faces staring at him, uncertainly. He was once again an unwelcome foreigner come to disturb their peace.

There were some friendly faces in the crowd, Zuko had to remind himself. There a few Tribesmen and women he had gotten the chance to know over the past few years of peace. Some he had begun nascent friendships with before he had even allowed himself to hope Katara liked him the way he liked her. Nukilik, the village armsmith flashed him a grin and what Zuko could only assume were two thumbs up. It was hard to tell through the thick mittens, but it made more sense than the man balling his hands into fists. 

Hakoda and Sokka were there, too. Zuko noticed with relief that neither of them seemed upset to see him. Hakoda smiled the placid, slightly tired smile Zuko had learned to recognize over the years. Sokka’s grin was slightly more disturbing- more of a baring of teeth than a smile, paired with a mischievous gleam.

“Welcome, Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda greeted him formally, but warmly grasping his forearm in the traditional Water Tribe greeting. “I heard your trip was smooth. I hope it was also pleasant.”

“It was,” Zuko said loud enough for the bystanders to hear.”We made better time than I’d hoped.”

“Of course you did,” Sokka declared, grabbing his friend’s arm the way Hakoda had. Then he pulled Zuko into a one armed hug, slapping the young Fire Lord hard on the back. “You had a master waterbender with you.”

“We should get going,” Hakoda said. “There are others who are anxious to see you’ve made it here safe.” Zuko blushed a deep red as a wave of laughter passed through the crowd. They knew exactly what Hakoda meant. And just like that, Zuko was accepted by them. The awkward suitor of a daughter of their tribe.

The crowd fell in line behind Zuko’s small entourage. He walked at the head with Hakoda and Sokka in an informal procession through the town. The buildings were nowhere near as ornate as those he had seen in the Northern Water Tribe, but Zuko recognized a bustling, prosperous town. The houses and shops were like the people of the Southern Tribe- practical, sturdy and possessing a unique grace all their own. In the middle of the village stood a long low hall that served as Hakoda’s seat of power, the village community center, and for today, a banquet hall. 

Katara sat at a table on a raised platform with her Gran Gran and Master Pakku. She wore a parka lined with pristine white and grey fur. Her hair had been done in elaborate looping braids that had been fastened with bead and ivory combs.On her forehead had been painted a dark crescent moon. The mark of the brave she earned years earlier, she had once explained to Zuko. She was all Water Tribe today. To Zuko, she had never seemed more regal and queenly- not even in her Ambassador’s robes- and he wanted to stop and thank everyone present for giving rise to the most compassionate, strong, intelligent and beautiful Fire Lady the world would ever know. But he restrained himself. He hadn’t officially declared his intentions yet. 

Hakoda and Sokka clapped Zuko on the back almost hard enough to knock him to his knees, but Zuko managed to stay standing. Then they left him at the foot of what he now recognized as a dias, and took their seats. Hakoda at the center with his children on either side of him. 

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Hakoda addressed him in a somber tone. “Why have you come?” It wasn’t exactly a friendly start to this conversation, but Katara had told Zuko to expect this.He glanced up at Katara and found her watching him. She gave him a small, supportive smile and nodded slightly. Spirits, she was gorgeous. Zuko tried to swallow and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and say the words Katara had told him to say. 

“Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe,”he managed to say clearly.”Honored elders,” he bowed to Kanna and Pakku, “beloved family,” he turned to acknowledge the people gathered in the hall. “I have come to make it known that I intend to marry your daughter, Master Katara, and I humbly ask your blessings.”  The room fell uncomfortably silent. After a moment, he risked a glance up. Hakoda was watching him with a stoney eyed stare.  It wasn’t quite angry, but it wasn’t exactly encouraging, either. 

“Here in the Southern Water Tribe a marriage is not to be entered into lightly,” he began after a long pause. “When a couple decides to join their lives together, they agree to protect each other. Each has their own duty to the home and family they will build together, and neither is more or less important. Can you promise to help her build a safe and sturdy home together?”

Safe and sturdy were so subjective. He could provide Katara a palace with loyal and well trained guards. Even with the Fire Nation’s funds diminished with the costs of rebuilding infrastructure, providing for the financially devastated poor and making reparations to the nations damaged by his family’s war, Zuko’s wife and children would want for nothing substantial. Still he knew that as beloved as Master Katara, the Water Tribe Ambassador had become, there would always be people opposed to a foreign Fire Lady, just as there would always be opposed to the Fire Lord who ended the war that made whole generations of Fire Nobility wealthy. But Katara had acknowledged those obstacles, and she had still chosen him- him!- in spite of the risks. Zuko wasn’t afraid for her or himself or their children. They had faced down worse odds together. Zuko met Katara’s eye once more, taking courage from the way they seemed to gleam in the lantern light. 

“I promise,” Zuko swore. He knew what was coming next. He was neither surprised nor dismayed when Hakoda spoke again. 

“Words are not enough. Words alone are empty and can be spent lightly.” Hakoda’s stone-faced expression broke slightly, and Zuko thought he saw the beginning of a smile. “You will have a chance to prove your ability to provide. Tomorrow you will join me and my son, Sokka on a hunt. If your kill is acceptable to my daughter, it will serve as your betrothal feast.” 

 With that, Hakoda stood and left the assembly with Sokka and Katara following behind him. Kanna and Pakku feel in behind them, followed by the village elders. Finally, Zuko and his entourage were guided to where they would stay for the duration of the trip. Iroh, who had been uncharacteristically silent for the ceremony, nudged his nephew in the ribs. He grinned up at Zuko excitedly. 

“You did so well, Fire Lord Zuko!” he stage whispered. “I’m very proud of you. And so, may I add, was Master Katara.” Zuko didn’t feel that he had done much at all. He’d barely spoken- had barely had the chance to speak- and he would have to trek the icy tundra the next day and hope he didn’t embarrass himself too badly in front of his future in-laws. But then he remembered how Katara’s proud look when he’d caught her eye, and Zuko knew he’d go anywhere and accomplish any task if it meant he got to be with her for the rest of his life. 

*.*.*.*.*

“I know Dad has to look strong and dignified in front of everyone,” Katara said.  “But he could have at least cracked a smile up there.” 

There hadn’t been an official banquet that evening. Hakoda had predicted that his guests would be tired after their journey, so Zuko’s crew had gone to dinner at the inn where they would be staying for this trip, and Zuko and Iroh, along with a couple of guards, were staying with Hakoda and his family. After dinner, everyone adjourned to their rooms for the evening, leaving Zuko and Katara the common room. They were curled up together on a pile of cushions and rugs in front of the fire, discussing the day, just like they had done almost every night for the past two years. 

“I’m sure this isn’t easy on him,” Zuko pointed out in reply to Katara’s complaint. “You’re his only daughter, and you’re not only getting married, you’ll be moving across the world from him.” 

“I’ve been the Water Tribe Ambassador for three years!” Katara reminded him. “It’s not like my living situation is going to change. Well,” Katara looked up and winked at Zuko, “not much.” 

“It’s going to be  a bigger change than you think,” Zuko said thoughtfully. “The Ambassador thing was always going to be temporary. Eventually, you would have decided to move on to something else, or get married and start a family-” Zuko allowed a small smile to cross his face as he pulled Katara a bit closer. “He probably assumed you would be a little closer to home when that happened. He’s going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss him, too,” Katara admitted. “And Sokka and Gran Gran and Suki and Pakku. But I’ll visit as often as I can. Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been Daddy’s Lil’ Princess.”

“Katara, your dad is the Chief of the entire Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko chuckled. “You’re everyone’s princess.”

“I told you, that’s not how it works down here,” Katara huffed. “I’m not-”

“Officially a princess,” Zuko completed, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know. But you are still really important here. Whether you want to admit it or not, you pretty much are a princess.”

“I am not!” Zuko noticed with no small amount of amusement that Katara was blushing. He grinned mischievously. 

“I think I should talk with your dad about getting you a crown,” he teased. Katara jabbed his ribs with her elbow. 

“Don’t you start giving people ideas,” she chided. “If dad gives me a crown, Sokka’s going to insist on having one, and his head is swollen enough without adding the weight.”

“You’re going  to have a crown soon anyway,” Zuko pointed out. “Maybe you should have one just to get used to it.” Katara hummed thoughtfully and nestled into Zuko’s side. 

“Do I have to wear a crown?” she asked. “What if I just got some really fancy beads?” 

Zuko reached up and brushed his fingers against Katara’s braids. The truth was he couldn’t care less about what she wore when she was Fire Lady. He’d made it clear to his advisors that she would be welcome to integrate elements of her own culture in their day to day life at the palace. Still..

“You should probably have one for formal occasions, at least,” he said thoughtfully. “But aside from that, you can do whatever you like with your hair. And your clothes.” Zuko’s fingers wandered away from her hair to the thick fur lining her hood. “I wouldn’t recommend fur, though.” 

“I don’t know,” Katara shrugged. “I think showing up to a council meeting in a full fur parka would be a serious power move.”

“Most of them are already afraid of you. But whatever you want, my love, is fine with me.” 

“Aw!” Katara twisted around and planted a kiss on the edge of Zuko’s jaw. “You’re so good to me.” Despite two years and many kisses, Katara still managed to make Zuko blush. 

“Ick!” The pair turned to find Sokka cringing in the doorway. “You two are so gross.”

“Oh, please!” Katara snorted. “You and Suki are just as bad.” At the mention of his wife, Sokka’s face crumpled miserably. 

“Suki!” he wailed. “Why’d you have to bring her up? I’d almost forgotten to miss her today.” 

“She’ll be home in two weeks.” Katara rolled her eyes, unsympathetically. Suki was back in Kyoshi to visit her aunt. It was the first time she’d been back since her and Sokka’s wedding almost a year earlier, and Sokka had been supportive of the trip, but he hadn’t counted on missing her so much. 

“It feels different being apart when you’re married,” Sokka lamented. “You’ll find out.” Then with a menacing smirk he added, “You know, assuming you come back from the hunting trip.” Katara felt Zuko tense up and she glared at her brother. 

“Stop teasing him,” she scolded. She brushed her fingers across Zuko’s cheek. “He’s going to be fine.” Zuko turned his head and kissed the palm of Katara’s hand. Sokka shuddered. 

‘Have you ever actually been hunting?” Sokka asked Zuko. “This is a pretty big deal. The entire village is invited to this party. It’s a bad look if you don’t bring enough food for everyone.” 

“Sokka!” Katara sat up and fixed her brother with a warning glare. Sokka threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Whatever,” he said. “But you really should go to bed soon. We’re leaving early tomorrow. Anyway, I’m turning in. Go back to being gross.” When he was gone, Zuko glanced down at Katara nervously. 

“I have hunted before,” he said softly as if spilling some deep dark secret. “But it was just small animals. It was right before...before Ba Sing Se. Never anything like...” Zuko motioned around the room at the trophies from other hunts. There were large ivory tusks hanging from the walls and thick, furs trapping the precious heat. Everything came from animals at least as big as he was. 

“Are you worried you can’t do it?” Katara asked. Zuko felt a rush of heat to his face. 

“Well...what if I can’t?” he asked. “If this is how I propose, will we not be allowed to marry if I can’t bring in a...a...” Once again, Zuko gestured around the room. Katara sat up, pulling away from Zuko’s embrace so she could face him. 

“First of all,” she held up a finger under his nose, “I’ve already agreed to marry you. All we’re doing here is telling people and giving you a chance to bond with my family. Second,” another finger joined the first, “Dad and Sokka are expert hunters. You’ll come back with something, I guarantee it. Third, I love you, and there’s nothing that can change that, so stop freaking out about this. It’s supposed to be fun.” 

“Fun,” Zuko snorted, but he did feel better. 

“Promise you’ll at least try to have fun?” Katara rolled her eye, feigning exasperation. Zuko kissed her forehead and nodded. 

“I’ll try,” he promised. 

“Great!” Katara resettled into her previous spot, curled up with Zuko with a happy sigh. 

“I have to go to bed,” Zuko protested weakly. 

“Fire more minutes,” Katara said. “I won’t see you for a few days, so I want my cuddle time now.” 

Part 1, Part 2,   Part 3, Part 4, Part 5