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peachiimilquetea · 3 years

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 6 months or so, your boyfriend is presented with a little predicament

contains: sub!demon bf x dom!reader, mistress kink, choking, riding, bf in heat, gn!afab reader

- you two had only been dating for a few months, 7 at the most

- your boyfriend had been being distant lately

- answering your texts late

- cutting facetimes short

- declining offers to hang out

- you were suspicious but every time you asked him directly, he denied it claiming he was perfectly fine

- he was a shit liar for a demon

- after a week of this you decided to surprise him at his home

- you two had been dating long enough for you to know his work schedule so there's no way he wouldn't be home

- you took the day off work and took the bus to his place, heart in your ass the whole time

- what if he was cheating on you or something?

- you didn't want to think about that

- stepping up to his apartment door you felt sticky and hot

- was it hot outside?

- the door felt significantly warmer as you raised your hand to knock on it

- you didn't get a response but you heard a faint groan and some shuffling

- you knocked harder

- this man would open up if you had to rip the door apart with your bare hands

- you tried the doorknob on a whim and to your surprise, it opened up

- his apartment was dark inside and messy

- not the kind of messy that would cause for concern but he definitely hadn't left it for a few days

- you heard more shuffling from the direction of his room and made the executive decision to investigate

"babe?"

- no response

- you kept moving deeper into the apartment, feeling the air get thicker with each passing step

- what the fuck was going on?

"baby? its me. i know you're home you're not slick."

- your boyfriend's voice answered back, muffled through his bedroom door

"please i need you to leave"

- leave? why would you leave?

"I just need you to tell me what's going on. its ok I won't be mad at you"

- that was a partial lie but you needed to get him to talk to you

"I need- hnghh~ i need you to leave please"

"are you ok? you sound like you're in pain. let me-"

"NO! no! please... just stay where you are. this is fine."

- his voice was shaky and uneven, even through the muffled door

- something was wrong

"I'm sorry, but I'm coming in"

- a strangled noise came out of your boyfriend's throat as you neared the door

- you could hear him scrambling to get away from you

- this door handle was even hotter than the one at the front door as you turned it, getting hit with a wave of steam and musky scent

- it wasn't bad per se... but he had definitely been sweating

- a lot

- he sat curled up in the corner of the room farthest away from you

- he was wearing nothing but his briefs, tail coiled around his legs

"is this a demon thing that you neglected to tell me about?"

- all you got was a whimper in return

"babe... what is going on"

- he mumbled out a response

"what?"

"...iminheat"

"you what?

"I'm in heat"

- oh

- well

- thats definitely new

"thats a thing that can happen?"

"yes and now you need to leave"

- he practically hissed at you

- you could see it all over his face

- he was flushed and burning up, struggling to hold himself back

"please"

- his voice was so small

- you had never seen him like this. so fucked out. so needy without so much as a touch

- it sparked a tightening sensation in your lower abdomen as you tried to will yourself not to be turned on at a time like this

- he needed your help

- and you wanted to help him in the nastiest of ways

"and why can't I stay?"

- you wanted to rile him up a little

- just to get a taste of how far gone he truly was

"you make the symptoms worse obviously! did I need to- ngh~ s-spell that out for you?"

"don't get snippy with me, baby boy. I'm only trying to help you out"

- his breath hitched at your words and you noticed his hands grip the carpet a bit tighter

- checkmate

"is there anything I can do to ease the pain, my love?"

- your voice was sickly sweet as you started making your way over to him

- he swallowed thickly, finally looking at you fully since you had walked into the room

"please touch me"

- you reached down and began to gently stroke his hair

- his tail unwound itself from where it was previously, tracing over your calves and upper thighs and coiling around your leg

"where do you want mistress to touch you baby?"

"everywhere... p-please- its so hot mistress"

"awww does my little slut need someone to take care of him?"

- he whined in response, leaning in harder to your hands in his hair

- you then grabbed a fistful and tugged slightly, relishing in the primal groan that came out of your extra sensitive boy

"what if mistress plays with your horns, hm?"

- your boyfriend jerked forward, bracing himself on your thighs

- he was losing control over his demon form, normally short and clean nails blackening and turning into claws the more you teased him

"I cant- ah- i need you to touch me more please"

- you groped his horns more roughly and he let out a wanton moan

- that shot straight to your core

"get up and lie back on the bed. mistress is going to take good care of you"

- he practically teleported onto his bed at your command

- his cock strained in his briefs, looking as though it could rip right through

- did he get bigger?

- can dicks do that?

"what do you want me to do to you"

- you smiled at him, taking your top off and gesturing for him to do the same

- he only moaned and squirmed in response

"use your words, baby boy. don't keep mistress waiting"

"I want- i want you to use your mouth on me! please mistress"

- mouth it is

- you stalked over to the bed, practically crawling to him

- teasing his upper thighs and the apex of his hips

- he shivered at your touch but stayed where you had directed him to be, making no moves to touch or grab at you

- what a good boy

- you pulled his briefs down and watched as his cock sprang free with an abnormal amount of force

- the faint smack of his dick on his stomach made your mouth water

- it was such a pretty shade of dark red at the tip too, practically oozing precum like a leaky faucet

- you grabbed his dick in your hand, spitting on your tight fist to lube it up a little and swiping your thumb over his slit

- his loud gasp almost reverberated off the walls of the room

- he quickly gripped at the sheets below to steady himself as you worked his cock up and down

"how does this feel?"

"g-good. so good"

- keeping eye contact with him, you licked a long stripe up the underside of his shaft

- he hissed as you continued your ministrations, taking all of him in your mouth and using your tongue to tease his head

- the sounds he was making above you were heavenly, incoherent babbles about how much he loved you and how sensitive he was

"your mouth is so hot and wet mistress- ah! i-it feels so-OH"

- you grabbed his balls gently but without warning, softly kneading them in your free hand

- you continue to suck on him, increasing the pressure as he got louder and louder

- he was almost trashing now, fighting himself to keep from kicking you off but still letting himself react to his pleasure in all its glory

"do you want to cum now baby?"

"i- cant- i c- i cant hold it, mistress!"

"you don't have to hold it, baby boy. let go"

- you let him out of your mouth last minute and jerked him harshly, making him yelp and cum all over his chest and stomach

- he was heaving as he came down from his high, starting to feel a bit cooler and less needy

- unfortunately, he should have been paying more attention to you

- you quickly moved up the expanse of his body, straddling him to hover over where your hips met

"wait- what are you- ah hnghh"

- you sank down onto his cock, relishing in the slight sting of the stretch from this position

- it definitely got bigger

- your boyfriend was practically drooling now, hypersensitive from his heat and his first orgasm

- he keened and moaned as you teased him everywhere, gripping your hips to steady himself

- pinching and twisting his nipples

"n-not to ha-AH-rdd"

- kissing his neck and marking him on his upper chest

"hnghhh mistress please not my ears they're sensitive!"

- and sticking your fingers in his mouth when he got too loud

"hmgphhh~ aaaaaaah"

- that one was his favorite

- you felt your own orgasm building as he grabbed you all over, groping your ass and chest

"did i say you could touch?"

- he whined as you moved his hands back to your hips

"no mistress but i-"

- you reached out to slide your hand loosely around his neck

- he shut up immediately, lust pooling in his eyes

"choke me"

- you obliged the man, squeezing the side of his neck and watching him sputter out some kind of thanks

- his eyelids drooped as you held the pressure and he looked utterly fucked out

- so pretty for his mistress

-you felt yourself getting close and released him, changing the position at which you were riding him

- using his stomach for balance you bounced harder on him the slight change allowed for him to hit you just right

"I'm gonna cum, baby"

- you cried out as your orgasm shot through you

- your boyfriends grip on your hips tightened as you clenched around him, riding out your high with little regard for how he was keeping up with you

"s-slow do-own~! I'm gonna cum again mistress"

"be a good boy and come again for mistress. let her milk you dry"

- leaning down close to his face you licked up one of his horns and slammed down on him, clenching yourself all the way

- with a gasp and a loud cry he came, almost levitating off the bed

- you felt his hot spurts of cum inside you, filling you up and seeping out around the sides of your pussy

- you collapsed on top of him letting him hold you to his chest

- the two of you were a puddle of sweat, cum and fatigue as you caught your breath

"how are you feeling now?"

"a lot better"

- you noticed the room felt significantly cooler as you curled up together

"how long does this thing last?"

"we've got another week"

- he chuckled as your eyes widened

- a whole week???

- you would worry about it later

- you felt yourself nodding off as you rubbed your face deeper into his chest

"don't worry baby boy, i'll take good care of you"

- the demon had been satisfied

- for now

#[🍑]peachiimilquetea #[🍑]peachiiwrites #sub!bf #dom!reader #demon bf #demonbf #smut #oc #drabble #afab reader #in heat #[🍦]

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blxetsi · 4 years

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Imagine pampering Reiner. I would love to kiss him silly 🙈 is it obvious he’s my favorite character?

id like to kiss him silly too 🤩🤚 tysm for the request !!!

pampering reiner after a long day (modern au)

warnings: taking care of ur man 😁👍 uhh construction worker!reiner (of age, obv), gn!reader, face care n shit idk, cute names like baby and love, mentions of sexual harrasment/assault in a workplace.

living in the city had it ups and downs. well, so did everything in life, but you never really thought about that until you moved into the city. you and reiner both came from a small town, and then went to the same college in a bigger town, before you two decided to move to the big city together. downs happened more often than ups, but anything was an up if you were with reiner. rent was expensive, especially for the shoebox of an apartment you two live in, but youve both made it into your home, a cozy little sanctuary away from the rest of this chaotic world. another down was that the city never sleeps, someone, somewhere was always working, and you too found yourself taking nightshifts at the diner you worked at. it was minimum wage, and middle aged men and women would come in and flirt (more like harass), but your coworkers were nice, and if you made sure to dress up a bit you'd get a fat tip.

you and reiner originally thought that you'd get well paying jobs as soon as you moved into the city, which was a lie. considering the time, effort, and money you both put into getting your degrees, you thought you were more than qualified for certain jobs, but you werent, and that sucked, and now your boyfriend over works himself physically building houses while you let freaks make weirdly sexual comments about you so you can earn more money. it sucks on both ends, but you know that you'd do anything to be with reiner, so you could take a couple of gropes and sleazy jokes.

today you had gotten off work early, your boss closing the store because of a family emergency. you felt bad for the man, he was nice, and offered to switch you to dish duty when he'd seen older people be weird with you, you'd declined knowing that you wouldn't earn as much in the back. he was a family man, and generous, and cared about others, which was a nice change from other employers in the past. you were surprised reiner wasn't home yet, because today was friday, and he usually got off fridays around six, but now it was almost nine, and you were starting to get a bit worried.

just as you started gnawing on your lip, your phone vibrated beside you. grabbing it you saw it was reiner calling you, and quickly paused your episode of shameless to answer. "rei, where are you ?"

"just got off work baby." he sighed.

he sounded exhausted, and you could hear cars honking so you knew he was outside.

"do you need me to come get you ?"

"no, its okay. jack's giving me a ride home."

you let out a breath, at least he didn't have to wait for the bus, getting a ride meant he'd be home faster. "okay my love. you want me to run you a bath for when you come home ?" you knew how sore reiner got from working, and being out in the sun all day. with the weather becoming warmer it would become harder on him, and he'd always forget to wear sunscreen which meant he'd burn.

he let out a soft moan. "that sounds great baby, thank you so much."

you heard talking from his end, assuming it was jack. you tried to keep listening but reiner's voice cut in again. "only ten more minutes and im back to you."

you smiled, getting excited that he'd be here so soon. "okay lovey, i'll get that bath started. i love you."

you could hear his smile on the other end. "i love you too baby, thank you so much."

you quickly said your goodbyes before hanging up, cutting him off. you felt a bit bad but quickly brushed it off as you walked to your bathroom. you got everything together, moving from the bathroom to your bedroom and back again. you set out a clean towel, a pair of sweats and a white tank top for him, as well as a hoodie if he was cold. you filled up the tub, making sure it was hot, before adding a cup of epsom salt and stirring it around with your hand. you got up again, going to the kitchen area of your little home and filling up a cup with a jug of cold water from the fridge. you brought it back to the small bathroom, sitting it on the tank cover of the toilet. he needed to be hydrated.

you were changing the sheets of your shared bed when you heard the from door open, close, then lock. reiner dropped his backpack and toed off his shoes. he hung up his jacket before slowly walking around the apartment, cracking his neck and stretching his arms above his head. "baby ? where are you ?"

"in here rei, just changing the sheets." you called out. you could hear his heavy footsteps make his way down the hall towards you.

he thought you looked beautiful. dressed in just a tee shirt (his tee shirt) and plaid pyjama pants, the lights from the city reflecting all around the room and on your body, a small lamp which casted a soft warm glow around the room, made your eyes shine.

"you don't have to change the sheets baby." he whispered, making his way over to you. he helped you put the comforter over the bed. a simple grey colour, which matched the baby pink sheets and pillow cases.

"i wanted to. you always feel good sleeping in new sheets." you answered, making your way around the bed to him. you wrapped your arms around his torso while he wrapped his around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head. he sighed, and just held you while you rubbed his back.

"your bath is ready, and i left you clothes for you there too." you whispered. he hummed in response before squeezing you tighter.

"i missed you so much." his words were soft, but held a lot of weight, and your heart hurt because you knew he was working himself to the bone.

"it's okay baby, i'm here now."

he nodded before kissing your head again. he smelt your hair, sighing before pulling back to look at your face. "did you shower ?"

"when i got home, yeah."

"okay. i won't be long then."

you shook your head, moving your arms so you could hold his face in your hands. "no rei, take all the time you need. i'll wait for you." you knew that reiner was too tired to fight you on that, so he simply nodded, giving you a soft kiss before stripping down to his underwear and leaving the room.

you put his clothes in the hamper, putting his wallet on his bedside table and plugging his phone in to charge. then you opened up the window so the cool breeze could come in, you knew reiner liked the room to be a bit cooler at night.

slowly you made your way to the bathroom, peaking in to see him in the bath, the water up to his neck as he was almost fully submerged. his eyes were closed and his breathing was slow, you could see his tan lines from working. his muscles that bulged even when relaxed and the crinkles in his eyes from smiling so much, even when he was so young. his stuble which was just a bit darker than his sandy blond hair, and his calloused hands from his labour, wrapped around his torso in a hug. those hands that held you, that protected you, that tickled you, that loved you. you never got to admire reiner often, usually because he'd notice early on and tell you to stop, he'd get all flustered and his face would turn red, getting all blushy that his lover wanted to look at how beautiful he was. and he was, reiner was gorgeous, and its a blessing to call him yours.

his voice was raspy from not speaking for so long. "baby, stop looking at me like that." you could see the apples of his cheeks turn pink while his lips quirked up into a small.

"i can't help it, you're just so pretty." you replied, walking into the small bathroom and closing the door behind you. it took less than two steps to get towards him, and you crouched down beside the tub to look at him closer.

he slowly opened his eyes, like he was in a daze, before peeling an arm away from his body and holding it out for you to take. you grabbed his hand with both of yours, rubbing his palm and fingers while you softly kissed his knuckles. you two never looked away as you did so, relishing in the soft moment together.

he closed his eyes again, and sighed while moving deeper into the tub, making the water go from his neck to his chin, and his long legs stick out of the water at the knees. "you know that face mask you have baby ? the one that peels off and makes your face smooth ?" he asked, his voice echoing throughout the room.

"yeah," you mumbled against his hand. "you wanna use it ? want me to put it on for you ?"

he nodded. you slowly put his hand back into the water before crawling to the cabinet under the sink, reaching for your peel off face mask, you turned around and went back to your love, shifting as close as you could ger before the toilet got in the way, before opening the tube and squeezing some onto your hand. the clear gel felt cool on your finger tips, and you rubbed it along both pointer and middle finger on your two hands, before leaning over the side of the tub and rubbing some on his face. you made sure to keep it away from his facial hair and his eyebrows. after rubbing it in you rinsed your hands off in the bathwater, before moving them to hold reiner's hand again. "if you cant peel some if it off after its dry just rinse with warm water, okay ?" reiner nodded before squeezing your hand. "thank you baby."

you two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just listening to each others breathing and the slight swish of the water. "i'm gonna make some tea, would you like any ?" you asked.

reiner shook his head. "i'll just steal a sip of yours."

you chuckled before kissing the back of his hand, a smile on your face. "okay my love, i'll wait for you in the bedroom."

he leaned over quickly, grabbing your face with his free hand and giving you a soft kiss, over and over again. his lips were a bit chapped, which caused your own to tickle, but to him it felt great. this was so domestic, so simple, it made him feel safe, it made reiner forget all about his horrible day. all he could think about was you, all he could feel was you.

because of your kiss some of the product from his face mask had transferred onto yours, causing him to giggle before wiping it away with his pruny hand. "i love you so much baby. i'm so happy to be with you." he whispered, his face millimetres from your own.

"thank you rei, i love you too." you responded. you loved him so much, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. and you're sure you will.

you pecked his lips before kissing his hand one more time, then you got up and left the bathroom, reiner's eyes on you as you went.

you went about tidying up the living room, putting away reiner's dinner on the table (if he didn't scarf it down when he came in, you knew he wouldn't touch it until tomorrow) turning off the tv and folding up the blanket you were snuggled up with on the couch almost an hour ago.

you quickly boiled your water for your tea, getting out your favourite mug and putting the tea bag in. then you went into your bedroom, where you moved through the open window to sit on the fire escape. the breeze of the night brought with it a chill, and you wished you'd brought that blanket with you. the lights and the cars moving down brought comfort to you. after living here for over a year, the noise became berable to you, just second nature.

you could hear faint shuffling inside the bedroom, before reiner's head popped out of the window. "i was looking everywhere for you."

you gave him a sheepish smile. "sorry my love, would you like to join me ?" he nodded and crawled out of the window too, which was a bit hard considering his long limbs. he sat down beside you, his skin looking soft and smooth, his hair wet and all dressed in his hoodie and sweats.

the two of you huddled together, watching people walk by and cars drive around, looking into the windows of other apartments and stores, seeing if you could see the people inside doing weird things. you two passed the mug of tea between each other, before all that was left was the wet tea bag at the bottom of the cup. reiner reached up and set it on the window sill, before pulling you into his side by your shoulders.

"do your muscles hurt still ?" you asked.

reiner shook his head before replying. "not anymore, thank you again for the bath."

you giggled, turning your head to look up at him, he looked down at your own head, resting on his shoulder, and matched the smile that painted your lips. "you don't have to thank me so much silly, i love taking care of you."

he rubbed his nose against your own. "i love taking care of you too. which is why i was thinking of looking for a new job."

your eyes opened again and he watched your reaction closely. "that tech company near downtown, they're looking for a new software developer. i've already set up an interview, i just didn't know when to tell you." he whispered.

your eyes lit up as you smiled again, leaning up and smacking kisses all over his face. he let out a loud laugh before cupping your face with his hand, guiding your head away from his own so he could speak, but you started talking before that could happen. "i'm so happy for you. i hate seeing you come home so tired and in pain."

he nodded. "and i hate seeing you come home with a new story of some creep making moves on the love of my life." he replied, giving you a soft kiss.

you two sat in silence again. reiner felt happy that you weren't upset about his idea for a new job, he had a degree, and a great mind, and he somehow knew he'd get this job.

"y'know," you started. "that new art museum that opened near the science centre, they're hiring too. said on their website they're looking for tour guides."

reiner pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible. "baby you'd be great at that. you know so many art things."

"'art things?'" you laughed. "yeah, maybe i'll call and see if i could get an interview."

reiner nodded. "that sounds great baby. but tomorrow, your tea made me so sleepy and now i just wanna sleep." you shook your head with a chuckle before pecking him on the lips again.

you two made your way inside, closed the window, and got ready for bed. while you put the mug back into the kitchen sink, reiner took off his hoodie and unfolded the comforter from the bed, ready to get under. when you came back inside you shut off the lamp and got in beside him, where reiner immediately pulled you into his chest.

your head rested on his bare pec, and you could hear his heart thumping. he was calm, content, and happy with you in his arms. and you two went to bed that night with dreams about your future together.

not me going overboard with that one 😁👍 anyways love u all stay safe requests r open 😍🙏

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x gn!reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun headcanons #modern au #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #attack on titan reiner #aot reiner #attack on titan requests

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

Text

Title: Like Gold

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

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

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

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

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Chapter 4/?: Soothe

Sasuke arrives outside her building shortly before seven in the morning, an ubiquitous aubade sung by birds, polished and practiced for many years, lilting into his ears along the way. The village for the most part is still slowly awakening from its slumber; no merchants in the streets yet, and he only passes a few people here and there as light slowly seeps higher into the sky.

He carefully pushes open the glass door of the exterior portion of her complex, making sure to keep it quiet in case her neighbors are still asleep. As he goes up the stairs, he notices that all of the downstairs tenants’ lights are on, emanating from beneath the trio of entryways. Once he reaches the upper landing, he sees that Sakura’s light is on, too, though her other two neighbors' are not.

The doors of each unit are all painted different colors. Hers is sage green; he hadn’t been able to discern that previously, with the desaturation that night brings.

He's wondering if maybe he should knock to let her know he’s here, but then she emerges a few minutes early, beautiful and bright-eyed and full of life, pale yellow sunshine coating her from the large window with diamond patterning behind him.

She seems pretty awake already; she must be an early riser. She's carrying her tote bag again, and today she wears a dark skirt with a red top, along with a familiar pair of knee-high sandals. She's also wearing a smile, directed upwards at him.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she acknowledges him softly, looking very happy to see him.

"...Morning." He keeps his voice low, because it is still a little hoarse. He tries to memorize her eyes again in the span of seconds before she turns to lock her door behind her.

It's 6:58 by the time they're out the glass door, her leading the way. They take the main road west a few blocks before turning to go north, this time. There are several more buildings that appear residential on her street. One of them has vines creeping up the sides, starting to bud after the warmer spring weather. He notes there is also a bakery on the corner, not open yet, but one that seems like the kind to also sell confections. He wonders if that factored into her apartment selection at all; he remembers she has a sweet tooth.

It is an easy silence they share on the walk there, bird calls lulling in as background noise again. There are more of them now, a more layered song than earlier, with a wider variety of voices filtering in and out.

Sakura leads them to a very small tea shop within five minutes of the hospital; it is quaint and simple, definitely not modern. It is also quite small, with only four or so small tables situated by windows, looking out towards the street. The entire establishment utilizes a spread of cinnamon-colored wood for its surfaces; floors, counters, and the shelving in the back, laden with neatly-labeled teas of several varieties in glass jars. He assumes the larger jars are store stock, with the smaller ones higher up on the shelves being available for purchase for use at home, if one decides they like a particular flavor enough.

He finds he likes the atmosphere. He figured he would. It's not a formal place, but rather one where you retrieve what you've ordered from the counter and can choose whether to stay or go. He supposes that makes sense; it’s closer to the busier part of the village. There appears to be a small area to the left of the counter where one can add cream, sugar, lemon, or honey, though he knows he won't. He vaguely remembers that she used to take lemon and sugar in her tea, and possibly cream, depending on the brew. Honey seems like something Sakura would like, too, now that he’s thinking about it.

He scans the menu briefly upon entering before deciding something hot with caffeine would probably be best. Sencha green tea is usually what he gravitates toward. He also enjoys black tea during cooler weather, and jasmine occasionally, though not often; it had been his mother’s favorite.

Once he orders, he says, "Hers, too," and glances back towards Sakura expectantly. She looks at him with a blush that rivals the color of her hair when she realizes he's offering to pay for hers.

"Oh! Um, lavender matcha. Hot, please."

His lips quirk upwards a little, because that is possibly the most Sakura thing she could have ordered.

It doesn’t take very long until it’s ready, as they’re not busy; they are the only ones there, thus far. He takes a sip while idling by the end of the counter as he watches her add honey and cream into hers, stirring carefully. It is one of the better blends of sencha he’s had, aside from a particular place nestled on the edge of the Land of Mountains, where he’s pretty sure the elderly woman who ran the place harvested the tea straight from her private garden. He had pilgrimaged there a total of five times on his journey, months scattered like the seasons in between.

It was an odd teahouse, more formal than this one and off the beaten path, not near any major landmarks, nor plotted on any map he’d seen before or after. The lady, who had wizened eyes of a crystal clear blue, slightly lighter in hue than Naruto’s, had served the brews in eclectic and sometimes chipped mugs and teacups, from which he had assumed after multiple visits must be a fairly vast collection. The china was different every time, but he had liked the tea itself so much he kept coming back, if he was anywhere near the area. Twice he had been the only customer there, the first two visits occurring during early morning hours, and there was something extremely cathartic about sitting at the table in the far corner, looking out the window as the sun rose higher in the sky until it no longer skimmed the horizon and the mountains in the distance.

The other three visits had occurred during the afternoon, so there had been at least one or two other people present, at those times. He had noticed that third time that other patrons were served out of much different teacups than he was; he had secretly suspected, after that, that the woman tried to match the stoneware from her collection to whatever she saw in her patrons.

There had been a father sitting with his daughter, who had looked to be around six or seven, on his third visit. The father’s teacup had been robust, solid with carved detail that appeared to have been created with something like a miniature chisel, and an earthenware glaze mix of green and russet, strangely looking similar to the color of seaweed. The daughter’s had been a smaller cup, dainty finery of opalescent sky blue, with a similar mother of pearl finish coating the inside. The girl had quickly drained her glass once she realized the inside was pretty, too; she had spent the rest of the time there in awe of its beauty, turning it in the light as her father watched with soft eyes, enjoying his own cup more slowly. Sasuke had thought it must have been an expensive teacup, not necessarily what you’d typically give a child that young, but the girl hadn’t chipped or broken it. Instead, she had been enamored by its beautiful finish, even more enthralled with the inside than she had been with the outside, and had handled it with great care.

He never saw the same cup twice, for him or any other customer there. He had hoped by the third and fourth time that this was a good sign, that it meant progress. Once he figured it out, he wished he’d examined the first two cups, near five months apart, with greater care; he had thought there might have been a lesson there he had missed. His first teacup, from what he remembered, had been rather plain: rounded, no handle, slightly hard to grip, a shiny black glaze with a burnt orange rim. The second time, he’d been served the sencha in another black piece of china, though this one must have been fired differently; there was no glaze at the very bottom of the outer portion of the vessel, bare toasted clay in an oatmeal color. Carved designs on the outer portion of the piece had nearly melted glaze off it, allowing for the viewer to see the true color of the clay body beneath, creating an effect of brushstrokes in the third dimension, rippling out of the darkness. That one had had a chip at the top, but it hadn’t compromised the structural integrity of the piece, and was easily avoided simply by sipping from the undamaged side.

The third cup had taken him off guard in its uniqueness, and is what had caused him to look to the girl and her father. He had analyzed theirs, and then his own cup closely for a long time that day, thinking. Still no handle, but it had been a bit more narrow, as well as taller, easier to grip. The glaze design was fascinating, a thick glossy black base coat overlaid with a strange dissolving mixture of sapphire and indigo. It had reminded him of a night sky in the middle of nowhere, tiny amounts of galaxy blues and violets barely visible to the naked eye in their sheer scope and complexity. The glaze itself also only covered around two thirds of the vessel, at an asymmetrical angle, with the remaining half left unglazed, as if it hadn’t dripped down to be fully covered yet because the artist had liked the way it looked as is.

When he went back for a fourth cup several months later, the lady had given him an entirely too knowing look, and served his tea in a somewhat misshapen mug, this time with a handle. The handle was awkward, too small, and slightly malformed; the mug’s overall shape seemed as though it may have been an artist’s first attempt, shoddily trimmed and uneven in many places. The glaze design itself was mesmerizing, though, something like a gradient this time, shifting from splattering black to sepia to a lighter color, akin to the inside of a water chestnut. It was almost as if the cup had been constructed by a beginner and then drenched in magisterial color by a master. The sencha had tasted just as good from that cup as it had from any of the others, despite the challenge of grasping it with any semblance of comfort.

The last cup had been only a few months ago: well-designed, with a near perfect handle, easy to hold. The foot and interior of the mug was a smoky gray, well-trimmed, but the exterior body of it was a white raku crackle, twisting patterns of scale-like ivory and black outlines, small dots sprinkled in between where the unevenness of the heat must have interfered in the firing process.

When he reached the very bottom of the vessel, having finished his tea, it had been gilded gold, metallic and astonishingly bright, catching the light of the sun coming through the farthest window, where he sat in the corner alone.

He had sat there staring at it for the better portion of an afternoon. It was a peculiar artistic choice.

This sencha is good, too, he thinks as he takes another sip, here with Sakura, also at a table in the farthest corner, looking out another window. Herbaceous, earthy, and light, and in a cup that matches hers. It feels cleansing on his sore throat, corrosion, not too hot but not lukewarm, either; a rather perfect medium between mellow and astringent. It is a nice way to greet the break of day.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she murmurs, after they’ve been seated for a few seconds.

He nods; she’s still flushed as she says it. He can see it better now, in the bright light of the window. He takes another sip, and continues to enjoy looking at her.

“How is yours?” She asks.

“...I like it.” He considers his next words. “You didn’t add lemon.”

Her lips quirk upward, dimple appearing. “It doesn’t go the best with the lavender. They only have this kind on hand for the springtime.” She pauses, then adds, “I still put lemon in pretty much all my tea, otherwise.”

Sasuke inclines his head again, and she takes another sip.

They sit there for a while in a comfortable silence, watching more of the village wake up and people pass by from the window, on their way to work and other responsibilities. There are two small birds across the street, perched on the awning over an apartment building’s entrance. Finches, he deduces by their plumage and size. Perhaps they are looking for a mixture of materials with which to build a nest.

“It’s a good place to just sit and watch, in the morning,” Sakura mentions after a while, still looking out the window contentedly.

“...Is that your favorite thing about it?”

She meets his eyes, then, and smiles. “One of them.”

He looks at her expectantly, so she continues. “The tea itself is good. It’s close to the hospital, and I like... “ Her voice trails off, and she glances over at the station where she added cream and honey, lips still turned upwards. “I like that they don’t overfill the cup; it makes it easier to add what it needs.”

A ghost of a smile overtakes him. Practical, as always.

Sasuke finds himself contemplating what kind of teacup the elderly lady would give Sakura, if he took her there.

XXX

"You're a little on the skinny side for your height, now," Sakura notes as she writes down his information on the form he's given her, stepping off the scale; 163 pounds. "Not unhealthy, necessarily, but you should try to put on some weight."

They are at the hospital, in an exam room this time instead of her office. Her voice has shifted to something more professional, and Sasuke knows he is now with Sakura the clinician, though her affection is still an undercurrent in the way she's looking at him carefully with warm eyes. She’s already measured his height, and has his paperwork from his last physical to compare it to; apparently he’s grown another two inches since then.

He hopes he’s done growing, in that regard. It doesn’t seem likely that she’ll grow any taller; she’s twenty now, and they already have a considerable height difference. He doesn’t know how tall she is, exactly. He must hover over her by at least six or seven inches.

"Okay," He responds, because he trusts her judgment. Being away and mulling on his failures never gave him much of an appetite. Being back in Konoha hasn't much either, so far, but he can try. “How much?”

She looks somewhat surprised that he asked. “160 to 196 pounds is considered a normal range for six feet; I’d start with ten, and then evaluate from there.”

He nods. Her eyes linger on him, as if she’s contemplating saying something more. When she turns to set down her clipboard and grab the cuff typically used to measure blood pressure, he thinks she must have decided against it, whatever it was. He goes to sit in the patient’s chair, familiar with the routine at this point. He's gotten a physical near every year of his life that he’s spent in Konoha.

She sits on the wheeled chair that’s next to the desk, rolling it closer to him. He extends his right arm, and as she carefully adjusts the cuff, she tells him, tone casual, “You’ve got an inch on Naruto, now.”

There is a very stupid and juvenile part of him that takes immense satisfaction in this news, but she doesn’t look like she’s finished speaking yet. He waits for the rest.

She smiles apologetically. “He’s got about fifteen pounds on you, though. There’s some motivation for you.”

He pins her with a pointed stare, unimpressed but also a little amused. Motivation, indeed.

Her expression turns somewhat guilty, now. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. I did his about a month ago; he came back from a mission with a cracked rib, and it needed to be updated.”

She starts increasing the pressure, and he suddenly becomes aware that she is closer to him than before, by the nature of the operation of the equipment. He had become aware of her physical proximity at roughly this point in the exam the last time, too.

He’s thankful it doesn’t seem to affect his blood pressure. “105 over 70; good,” she concludes, before reaching to remove the cuff from his arm. Her fingertips make brief contact with his skin, this time, and he has to fight an urge to shiver, even though they’re warm.

She picks up her pen to input this information in the appropriate slot, then sets it aside and puts away the cuff. When she turns back to him, she says, “Heart rate is next. Hold out your wrist, please.”

He holds out his right arm again, letting his elbow rest on the surface of the desk this time. Both of her hands come to grip his single one, lightly and carefully feeling for his pulse. He tries to hold very still, and to not think about how soft her hands are. He distracts himself by preoccupying his gaze with the clock on the wall behind her. It feels like a very long thirty seconds, though he knows by watching the hand tick that it’s actually not.

She doesn’t vocalize what the number is, just removes her hands finally and reaches for the pen to fill it in on the paper. He wonders if it was elevated.

“Heart and lungs next.” She reaches for the stethoscope, positioning it in her ears before leaning in to listen to his heart first, over his shirt. He looks to the ceiling.

It doesn’t take very long. “Sounds good. Lungs, next.” She gets up and comes around the chair slightly behind him. He shifts to pull the back portion of his shirt up to his shoulder; he remembers this from the last exam, too.

“It’ll be cold; I’m sorry,” she warns gently, before pressing the instrument to his back. She is nothing but professional as she asks him to take a few deep breaths. Routine, and very careful not to touch his skin with anything but the diaphragm of the stethoscope, cool metal.

It feels… different than the last exam. He had been a little on edge during this part, then, too, even though she was nothing but professional then, as well.

He is just… very aware that she is behind him, and that his shirt is pulled up, and she’s listening to him breathe and can see the skin of his back. And that he's kissed her.

The coolness slips away after a short amount of time. “Lung function sounds good.” He pulls his shirt back into place, feeling a faint sense of relief as he does so. She goes back to document her findings on the paperwork.

She then lays the stethoscope back in its appropriate place. Scanning the page, she asks, “Any issues with your hearing?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Sasuke responds. She dips her head in acknowledgement, filling in that box with what he assumes is non-applicable.

“Sense of smell?”

He recalls raspberries and antiseptic. “No.” She fills another box.

“Sinus or lymph node issues?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m assuming you’ve used the Sharingan and Rinnegan since last time, so I’ll look at your eyes towards the end.”

He nods, and she reaches for a light instrument to use to look at his throat, as well as one of the wooden sticks from a glass jar in the corner. “Throat next,” she says, flicking the light on.

He tries not to furrow his brow. He wasn't looking forward to this part.

He opens his mouth for the wood, reedlike and firm against his tongue, and then she’s shining the light in and frowning.

“Say ah, please.”

He complies, feeling quite undignified, though he knows it’s necessary and just part of her job. She removes the stick after a second, setting the flashlight instrument aside, and he closes his mouth.

"Teeth and gums look good, and your tonsils look fine, but your throat looks a little raw. Have you been sick recently?"

"Yes." It is technically the truth, though not in a viral sense.

She looks thoughtful as she’s making a note on her clipboard. “Within the past week?”

He nods. She must see him from the corner of her eye, because then she asks, while still writing, “Any other symptoms? Cough? Does it feel sore?”

“No.” He pauses, then clarifies. “No cough. A little sore. Not bad.”

Verdant eyes flick up to him for a long moment. He feels somewhat guilty; even if he knows the truth, she might be thinking right now that he’s been irresponsible, that he may have given her an illness via kissing.

She breaks eye contact eventually, and sets the pen down, standing to open the uppermost cupboard door in the exam room. His brow furrows, until she’s pulling down a small box that he sees has cough drops in them.

“We only have mixed berry; they’ll be kind of sweet, but it should help. Take a few for later, and put one in now, please.”

Sasuke blinks, and then takes a handful. He puts all but one in his pocket, and then unwraps the one left in his hand, putting it in his mouth, as she asked.

She arches to put the box back in the cupboard, and he forces himself to look elsewhere.

It does feel good on his throat, soothing. “...Thank you,” he says after a few more seconds, as she makes another note on his form.

“You’re welcome,” she replies. Then, back to clinical Sakura. “Any other issues? Abdominal, neurological?”

“No.”

She flips the page. “Infectious disease screening questions are next. Obviously you’ve traveled outside the village in the past 21 days, but have you been outside of Fire Country in that time?”

He thinks. “Rain, about thirteen days ago. Wind, 19 days ago.”

Sakura inclines her head, and writes in the information. He notices she keeps her eyes trained on the questionnaire now. “Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person with measles, mumps, or chickenpox in that time period?”

“No.” She checks the 'no' box.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person or source in that time period for any of the following: botulism, diphtheria, E. coli, encephalitis, hemorrhagic fever, hepatitis, influenza, listeriosis, malaria, meningitis, pneumonia, rabies, severe acute respiratory syndrome, smallpox, or yellow fever?”

“No.” He watches her check several 'no' boxes.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person in that time period who may have exposed you to any sexually transmitted infections?”

He’s glad she’s looking at the paper still, even if that answer is obvious. “No.” She checks several more 'no' boxes.

“And you didn’t have a fever earlier.” She checks another 'no' box. “And sore throat, but no shortness of breath at any point?”

“No.”

“Vomiting or diarrhea?”

“...Vomiting, yes,” he answers honestly. “No to the second.”

She nods, as if she knew that already from looking at his throat. She probably did. She’s good at what she does.

“Any kind of rash?”

“No.”

That’s the last question on the page, so she turns to the next one.

“Next is bloodwork. We’ll do a cholesterol screening, in regards to heart health, and then we’ll also do a general workup and run it for any infectious diseases. I don’t think we’ll find anything if it’s just the vomiting and resulting sore throat, but better safe than sorry.”

She then starts getting out the necessary supplies with which to get a blood sample. It doesn’t take very long; he holds out his right arm again, and Sakura finds the vein easily. “You’ll feel a pinch.” Within sixty seconds it’s over, and she’s pressing and holding the cotton to the dot of red before taping over it, a small pressure dressing.

“Leave that on for a few hours, please,” she advises, and he nods to indicate that he will. She makes quick work of labeling the blood sample, and sets it aside with the clipboard, he assumes for the end of the appointment.

She scribbles in a few more comments on the sheet, he assumes for whoever is running the tests. “Okay, just eyes and arm left. We’ll do eyes first. Any deterioration in vision that you’ve noticed?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll shine the light to check your pupils quick before I use chakra to look at them.” She grabs a different light tool, a penlight, and turns it on, before looking at him expectantly.

He blinks, curious what she’s waiting for, and then she asks softly, “Could you move your hair out of the way, please?”

Oh. He complies, and she shines the light in one eye, moving it slightly and monitoring the progress. She then does the same to his Rinnegan.

“Reactivity is good; no signs of defect.” She sets the penlight back where it belongs, then makes a note in his paperwork indicating that. Then she’s shifting her chair a tiny bit closer, so she can reach his eyes with her hands.

“Do you have a preference, which one I start with?” She asks. He shakes his head. “Okay; I’ll check the right eye first.” She reaches out with her left hand, pressing her thumb above his eye over his eyebrow, and her other four fingers lightly to his temple, just next to his eye socket.

Sasuke tries not to dwell on how close she is again as green chakra drizzles into his ocular system; he keeps his vision trained forward, as he knows he’s supposed to as she examines. There is a freckle on her right ear that he remembers focusing on, the last time; he does this time, too.

Around thirty seconds passes, before she informs him, “I’m going to funnel some chakra into the retina and optic nerve here; there’s some damage.”

He had suspected there might be, though his vision has not suffered; mostly there was just a bit of pain, sometimes. He hasn’t overworked it by any means, but he hasn’t completely abstained from using it since he’d last been healed by her, either. “Okay.”

The flow of her chakra works its way deeper, more of it now. This part has always relaxed him; her chakra really is quite calming, careful and gentle, threading its way behind his eye and wrapping around the nerve.

She works for about five minutes before the chakra starts to let up.

“...There. That should be a little better,” she says before lifting her hand from his right. “Look up, down, please.”

He complies.

“Left to right, now.” He does. “Good. Does it feel okay?”

He nods, meeting her eyes again finally. It feels stronger, no pain. He decides to verbalize that, even though he’s already nodded. “It’s better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him. “Good.” Then she’s detailing whatever she’s supposed to detail in the paperwork, before setting the pen down again.

“Left eye now.”

She repeats the process, frowning again. “There’s some damage here, too. I’ll fix it.”

This time, it takes longer; not quite ten minutes, but fairly close. He tries to focus on the wall behind her.

He had asked her once, when she was healing him following the war, if it used a lot of chakra. She had said not necessarily, but it depended on the level of damage. She also told him that it was moreso a delicate process, requiring careful manipulation, so he has tried not to talk during any healing sessions since.

When her hand finally pulls away, he’s gotten so used to the contact that it feels like a loss.

“Look up, down, please,” she requests again. Then left to right.

“Function looks good. How does it feel?”

“Better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him gently, just Sakura again for a second, before turning back to the form to finish the optical section.

Then, she turns the page. “Arm is last. Could you please roll up your sleeve to your shoulder?” He grabs his empty left sleeve with his right arm and starts shifting it upwards, rolling it so that it stays put once it’s to the top.

She touches the end of what’s left of the limb with careful fingers, soft but steady on marred skin and scar tissue. “I’ll look with chakra in a second, but any redness that you’ve noticed?”

“No.” He shifts his gaze forward, because her fingertips really are softer than he remembers.

“Any areas that occasionally feel warmer than is typical?”

He shakes his head.

“Swelling of any kind?”

“No.”

“Have you been stretching it as instructed?”

He meets her eyes, then. “Yes.” He wants her to know he listens to her recommendations.

Soft jade, and she’s smiling again. She moves her hands away momentarily, and grabs the clipboard with the papers, checking several boxes as he has indicated. He looks back forward.

“Any phantom limb pain?”

“Sometimes.”

“Residual limb pain?”

“...Sometimes.”

Her gaze flicks upward. “If you had to rate it on a scale, one being hardly anything and ten being the worst?”

“...Usually two or three.” He pauses, and she waits. “...Sometimes four or five.”

“How often, for the worst of it?”

He thinks. “Maybe twice or three times a month.” It’s a bit more often than that, but not by a lot.

She notes it on the paper; that must be a normal range. “Alright. I’ll check with chakra, now.” Her fingers come back to his stump, touching more firmly now. Green chakra starts to thread its way in.

Sakura frowns, after a second. “Nerve endings are a little inflamed. I’ll fix it.” The flow of her chakra increases, and he feels almost instant relief; he supposes it still hurt, faintly. Maybe he just got used to it. “Has it hurt in the last day or so?”

“...Late last night.”

She nods, as if that makes sense. “It won’t take too long. Maybe five minutes.”

He inclines his head just barely, not wanting to move while she’s working.

“You should let me know if it hurts again,” she suggests quietly, after a moment. “It doesn’t take much to fix.”

“...Okay.”

There is a comfortable silence for a few minutes as she works. He feels the chakra start to dilute a little towards the end of it.

“I’m going to stop my chakra and manually massage the tissue, now. It should help prolong the effect.”

He feels her chakra dissipate. She has done this to him before, throughout the rehabilitation process following the war; it was more important then, she’d said, to develop tolerance to touch and pressure of the residual limb. It had hurt, the first few times, but later in the healing process, he had secretly enjoyed it; it made it hurt much less, and the process itself felt… nice.

He had privately wondered what it would feel like on his back.

It elicits the same response now, too, kneading fingertips gradually increasing pressure to access deeper tissue, helping to work away pain that has lived there for a while.

"You wear your hair differently now," she comments after an incredibly nice period of time, still pressing tenderly in little circles, though the pressure is starting to taper off now, since they’re getting towards the end of five minutes; that was roughly the time she would do back then. Since there’s no chakra anymore, it must require less of her concentration.

He realizes he hasn’t shifted his hair back into place yet, then. He takes a moment, then responds quietly, furtively, "Most people dislike looking at the Rinnegan."

She doesn’t respond right away; just finishes massaging the end of his stump, then removes her hands to pick up her pen.

"Not me," she murmurs softly as she makes her final notations.

His heart flips in his chest, and he feels his face grow warm. He's glad she's focusing on the forms, so she can't see the effect her words have had.

The lozenge has dissolved fully, and his throat isn't as sore.

XXX

Sasuke goes to the Hokage’s office, after, to see if the dobe is there. He has some time to kill before lunch, and he wants to take him up on his offer to spar at some point, given that his eyes are freshly healed. Now that he knows Sakura’s schedule for the next few days, he can fill the rest of his time with whatever else. He’ll see her tomorrow at four, at the hospital, and then at Ichiraku’s on Saturday, and then for a bit after, too; they still need to confirm an actual time for that with Naruto and Kakashi. He assumes Sunday and Monday must be her days off. If they’re not, she works too much. He’s going to ask her tomorrow, he thinks.

Oddly, he finds only Kakashi in his office.

“Ah, Sasuke. Good morning,” he greets as he walks through the doors.

“...Morning.”

The copy ninja sizes him up with a single eye for a long moment, as if considering what to ask him. Sasuke braces himself.

"You got your physical done."

Sakura had said after the bloodwork was complete, she’d drop off the paperwork for him. "...I did."

"It went well, I assume."

"...It did."

"Wonderful," he says quietly, sounding pensive.

There is a very long pause.

“And the date, with Sakura this morning, before that? That went well, also?”

Sasuke deliberates. There is no teasing lilt to his old sensei's voice this time, just genuine curiosity, so he answers honestly, even though his neck warms and he doesn’t quite appreciate being spied on. “...It did.”

Kakashi gives him one of the widest and most genuine smiles he has ever seen him wear, beneath the mask.

“Wonderful,” the copy ninja says again, this time teeming clearly with pride and meaning.

“...Yeah.” Sasuke agrees, looking anywhere but at him.

Kakashi shuffles a few papers around his desk, and starts talking again, as if Sasuke has not just admitted to something he’s sure their sensei had suspicions about for the better portion of eight years. “Well, Naruto’s not here; I’m assuming that’s who you were looking for. Hinata’s leaving for a mission later today, around one, so I gave him the day off. I kind of assumed he’d use the opportunity to seek you out for a spar in the afternoon, after she leaves. He was going on about it yesterday, along with a Team Seven dinner on Saturday night; sounds like that will be at six.”

Sasuke just blinks, gears turning still; the scroll from yesterday is still on the desk, so he's not sure why he'd grant Naruto another day off so easily.

Kakashi further clarifies, smile shifting into something more sly. “I wouldn’t go over there before a little after one, if I were you.”

His first thought is oh, and he feels rather stupid. His next thought is gross. His old sensei is grinning, as if his reaction amuses him; he must have made some kind of face that belayed his internal thought process.

“Ah, love requited and besotten newlyweds. What a time." Sasuke's neck burns again, because he realizes after a second that the ‘love requited' portion of that is referring to Sakura and himself. Kakashi's moving on, though. "Anyway, now that I’ve given you too much information…” His voice trails off, and he looks at the intricate scroll tucked away at the table beside his desk, where Naruto usually sits. “If you’re not busy and want something to do until lunch, you could take a look at this scroll for me, since Naruto won’t be getting to it today.” He appears to be thinking, then adds. “For all his progress, he can still be less than perceptive, in certain instances. Your assistance could be invaluable, since I’m occupied with other tasks at the moment.”

Sasuke ponders for a bit; he has already read a good portion of the way through his books, and it’ll be a few hours before he needs to eat. It's not lost on him that this involves a level of trust in him on Kakashi's part, as whatever is in the scroll is likely not public knowledge.

He decides it can’t hurt, though he hopes he doesn’t get asked any more questions about Sakura. He makes his way to take Naruto’s seat, opening up the scroll.

He stares at it long and hard, rolling it out on the table to examine it more closely. Kakashi wordlessly grabs the stapler on his desk and sets it on the top end of the parchment, to hold it in place as he further unravels it. It appears to be a cipher, and quite a complicated one.

“...You think Naruto’s going to be able to crack this?” Sasuke questions incredulously, glancing towards his old sensei with his brows furrowed in doubt. His eyes catch as he does so on the framed photograph sitting on his desk; from this angle, the side instead of the front, he can now see that it’s their original Team Seven photo. He hasn't seen it in a long time.

Kakashi chuckles, not looking up from his paperwork. “Not at all, which is why I was helping him with it yesterday. It’s good practice for him, though, and at the very least, it does keep him busy when I don't have anything else for him to do.”

XXX

Sasuke ambles back to his apartment around noon. He made some progress on the cipher, enough that Kakashi said Naruto might actually be able to take it from there. It feels good to be of use.

It also feels good to have something to give the idiot shit over, when he goes to visit him later.

He empties the cough drops from his pocket into one of the cups he bought yesterday, and pops another one into his mouth before he starts getting out ingredients to cook. It feels good on his throat, menthol pleasantly numbing despite the slightly sweet taste. He pours a hefty amount of rice into a pot to start boiling, and then begins slicing carrots and scallions and mushrooms for takikomi gohan. It takes a while to slice with one arm, as holding the vegetables in place with one hand is a challenge, but he manages by summoning a clone. Once he’s done, he slips them in a pan with some salt and dashi stock. He also adds frozen peas before covering it with the lid to simmer.

Once that’s going, he washes his hand, then folds the comforter he had washed and left out to dry this morning, ultimately storing it in the closet. He stirs the vegetable mixture occasionally, after, reading more of his book while he waits for the rice to finish. The one about kenjutsu is more interesting than he thought it would be. He might finish it by the time he sees Sakura tomorrow.

He really hopes he can walk her home again; he hadn’t gotten a chance to kiss her today. She might not want him to, if she thinks he's sick, but somehow he suspects she likely understood it wasn't actual illness. She's good at what she does, and smart.

It’s a simple but savory lunch, a larger portion than he’s accustomed to. He eats all of it, albeit slowly, as he reads.

Uncannily, an abrupt and earsplitting knocking erupts on his door as he puts the last bite in his mouth to chew.

“TEME! Open up!” More incessant knocking. “I’m fucking bored, and Kakashi-sensei gave me the day off! Let’s spar!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and closes his book before standing to rinse his dish, setting it in the sink to wash later, along with the pot and pan already rinsed and stacked there.

“Alright, dobe. You don’t need to bust down my door.”

He grabs another cough drop and removes the tape and cotton from his arm before he goes. It’s a little tender, but the blood has clotted by now.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #this timely update brought to you by my pure unadulterated spite for studio pierrot

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sunstar121 · 4 years

Text

in honor of manifesting it, heres an updated antarctic anarchists ranboo + all his pets!

(aa doodles, changelog, and headcanons under the cut)

changelog;

-i forgot that snow hurts him, so walking around barefoot in the snow prolly wasn't a good idea. I gave him some mukluks instead- he deserves em

-reduced the bulkiness and fluff of the cape

-he can take off his suit jacket, as a treat (it probably has some fur/warm fabric stitched to the inside now)

-added trident/trident holster

-added enderchest, enderpearl, jjjjjjjeffrey, and DogTM

-scuffed up his tails a little bit

headcanons:

-during the fall of lmanburg, some of the hair on his tails got burnt, resulting in them being a bit more ragged than usual

-hes pretty upset about that, cause he cares quite a bit about his tails looking nice

-he starts hiding his tails behind his cloak while the hair regrows

-he lets his head hair grow out a little more- its warmer that way, plus he doesnt have to worry about looking 'professional' for lmanburg anymore

-techno and phil get really protective of ranboo, especially after he talks a bit more about his time in lmanburg!

-theyre constantly making sure that hes alright, checking up on him, making sure hes got enough supplies

-whenever hes panicking or spiraling, he goes straight to phil for comfort

-phil had to deal with wilburs panic attacks when wil was younger, so he knows exactly what to do to help the kid out

-lotsa dad hugs. just so many dad hugs. sometimes he gets his wings in there and that's truly when ranboo knows hes 100% safe

-ranboo chaos moments!!!!!!! hes not a lawful person, and now that hes around two chaotic bastards he can let that out!

-what I'm trying to get at is prankboo. mans becomes an absolute menace and does strange-yet-annoying pranks on everyone in the smp

-techno and ranboo are both such awkward introverts that most of their time spent together is just. them sitting in the same room, doing separate things in complete silence

-phil quickly learns how to adjust from having just one introvert in his house to suddenly having two

-he'll come home after a long day of work and walk in to see ranboo writing in his book on the couch and techno sitting on the floor watching potions brew.

-they havent moved from those positions for hours. the cabin has been completely silent for just as long

-they both consider this the height of bonding

-phil: so, how're things going with ranboo, mate?

-techno: I currently consider him my second closest friend.

-phil: really? you two dont really seem to talk much, that kinda surprises me!

-techno: what do you mean? we hang out all the time. we bond. hes cool.

-phil, suddenly realizing that all those times techno would just come into his room and sit down next to him in silence was him bonding with phil: I see

-snow days are quickly designated as 'family bonding' days due to the fact that ranboo. literally cant go outside when its snowing unless he suits up like crazy

-they usually spend snow days brewing potions, mining together, playing games, or just sitting under a load of blankets in silence.

-ranboo is officially awarded the title of the Blood Prince (and the Dog Keeper, though the first one is much cooler sounding)

-he wears both with pride, and delights in responding to technos 'blood for the blood god!'s with 'blood for the blood prince!'

#my art #artists on tumblr #ranboo #dsmp #mcyt #ranboo dream smp #ranboo dsmp #ranboo mcyt #dreamsmp #technoblade #philza #ranboo fanart #reblogs> likes #go white boy go!!!!!!!!!#also. yall best know that my ranboo is a he/they king. go he/they go

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ot3 · 4 years

Note

your last post made me think about how I loooove how you use color in your art, it's so vibrant and full of life and movement and expression! I was wondering if you had any advice on how to do color studies? perhaps doing drawings with limited palettes? or anything similar?

First things first, thank you, I really do appreciate comments like these! this post now also has a follow up for finish limited palette pieces

I'm obviously very fond of limited palette art and color studies/color thumbnailing are great ways to get that done. When people think limited palette there's often the association of unrealistic and fantastical color palettes, but learning to limit your color use absolutely applies to semirealism and just builds stronger color theory in general. I was planning to talk about limited palettes in more realistic color use in this post, but this already ended up way too long. If that's something people want to hear about I can talk about it later.

Color theory basics crash-course! I'm sure almost anyone who has colored anything is familiar with this, so I'll be SUPER brief, but I want everyone to be on the same page for this. Color has three qualities you need to take into account: Hue, saturation, and brightness. Hue is what we think of as the 'color'. Saturation is the vibrancy of this color; how bold or dull it is. Brightness is how light or dark the color is. Here's this all labeled on a color picker I stole from google.

As a rule of thumb, things that look good in color should look good in grayscale. Having a strong range of values (brightness) makes for a strong image. Keep this in mind when you're picking colors – knowing what areas need to be light and what areas need to be dark before you start coloring will make your life easier. I'm going to teach you when and how to break this rule later, but for now let's just talk about picking a palette. I've found five to seven different colors to be a really nice sweet spot for working with limited palettes.

There are three main types of color palettes ill work with and ill provide examples each of them. I expect you to all politely refrain commenting on the amount of homestuck fanart that's here.

Monochromatic, where the piece is all within one color family with slight variations in hue, and larger variations in brightness and saturation

Accent, which is essentially the same as a monochromatic type with the addition of a strong, contrasting secondary color in one or two variants. Normally the accent color is lighter and serves as a highlight. This is not any kind of a hard rule, but is instead just what I like.

Split. There are two (or more) main colors at play, each with a couple of different shades.

Cool. Now lets see how we'd go about making one of these palettes.

I'm grabbing an inconsequential sketch i've already got and we're gonna slap some color on it. Let's start monochromatic – I've gone and just tossed six pretty random shades of green on it, picking what goes where based on what I want to be light and what I want to be darker.

Keep in mind, by monochromatic, I don't mean just picking one color and making it lighter or darker! Adjust your hue within the same color family – some of these are very blue, definitely more blue than green, and some are much warmer and yellower. Play around. In this stage I like to have every color on a distinct layer, so I can just recolor the entire layer at once as I tweak the palette.

On the right, I have each color lined up in order of lightest to darkest just so I can get a sense of what I'm working with. Lets go ahead and call this one thumbnail. Now I'm gonna group the layers, duplicate them, and flatten the copy. I'll shrink it down and shove it off to the side so I can compare it to the other ones I make later.

Okay, I did a few more almost completely arbitrary monochromatic palettes. Here they are compared with their grayscale counterparts.

All of them have the same number of colors, and lights stay lights, darks stay dark, midtones stay mid consistent between all of them, but the range of values is different between them all. The difference in light or dark between each tone is different and it gives a different mood that you can see even in black and white. None of them is more 'correct' than any other, and it's all about establishing the tone and atmosphere you want. Experimentation is key.

Now lets try making this a complimentary palette. With a strong accent color, your accent should be placed at areas of importance. People are naturally drawn to contrast and when using an accent color in a piece it'll make that area stick out, so make sure you're placing your colors with intent. For this I went back to that first set of greens I had because it was my favorite. Since this palette is over all very dark, I am going to make my accent the lightest color, because that'll stand out more. In a lighter palette, try making your accent the darkest color. Once again I must stress these are not hard rules – there are very few hard rules in art at all – but these are very useful tips for getting emphasis in the right place. This is just an example piece so I'm not being huuugely thoughtful with how I'm placing the color.

Here's the same image but with the lightest green just swapped out for a far more vibrant accent of yellow. Looks pretty terrible. I don't want all of the papers and blinds to seem so prominent. So let's scrap this and try a different approach. We're gonna instead add our accent as a sixth color to our palette.

By adding another color, I've added another level of detail. Figuring out how to manage detail isn't just dependent on how many colors you have, but this is already going to be ridiculously long so I'll spare you that spiel. This is another one of those things I'll talk about more later if people want to hear my #thots. Using the new yellow accent, I emphasized the eyes, the mug, and added some interior detailing to the objects on the table. I also decided to place yellow in some of the windows of the outside buildings, to add a bit more interest in that area, and to justify giving yellow back lighting to our little goblin lad here, which makes him stand out nicely.

A split palette makes things a whole lot more complicated. Now that you're gonna be working with two different base colors you don't just only have to worry about which one is lighter or darker, you have to worry about how the hues look next to each other. Lets work with an orange on top of our original green here. I picked two of the greens and replaced the darker one with a darker orange, and the lighter one with a lighter orange. Now our palette is six colors split 50/50 between orange+yellow, and green.

But now something interesting is happening. Let's take a look. If you're particularly keen eyed, you might have noticed that there's a third set of colors here, using a greyish brown in place of the oranges. What's up with that?

Well, what's up with that is, they are orange. The palette on the far right is what happens if, instead of choosing my own oranges, I simply hue-shifted the bluegreens until they were technically orange in hue.

The oranges I chose just based on how they looked without actually checking the value and saturation of actually changed the value hierarchy of the whole piece. The table, instead of being in between the objects stacked upon it in terms of brightness, is lighter than either. This isnt bad at all – there's absolutely nothing wrong here. It's just important to be aware of things like this! This is why I said a split palette is the most complicated of the three I'm talking about here – in many occasions, the hue hierarchy can top the value hierarchy. Keep that in mind for slightly later.

I think split palettes work really well for comics, and I like to make my comics with split palettes. Whereas with a single illustration, you can just putz around with your color thumbnails until you get something good, for a comic you're locked into your palette once you've done the first page. Unless you're some sort of insanely meticulous person, in which case I envy you, you probably don't have every single page of your comic blocked out with respective values and can't apply your palette to the whole thing at once to test it. This means you'll need a palette that's pretty versatile. Having a split palette where one of the hue sets is lighter than the other overall allows you to decide whether you're going to create an overall light panel with dark accents, or vice versa. I'm gonna compare two palettes I'm using for comics to make this point.

Here's a sampling of the comic pages in full color, at 0% saturation, and adjusted for grayscale respectively. You'll notice a slight difference between the desaturated colors and the grayscale colors – grayscale seems to hold truer to the full color version, doesn't it?

Now, here are the palettes themselves, and some grids showing the relationship between every pair of colors. When you don't know exactly what you're going to be using any given palette for, the relationship between any two colors becomes more important than ever. The bottom palette is split three ways, red yellow and blue each with a light and a dark, and then a completely neutral dark gray color. I'm using it for a long ongoing ace attorney comic I'm drawing. The top one has 4 shades of blue that go from darker and cooler to lighter and warmer, then 3 shades of orange that get yellower as they get lighter. Underneath is just the values – you'll notice that the top palette has a larger value range, with its lightest color being lighter than that of the bottom palette, and it's mid tones spaced further apart.

What you'll also notice about the bottom palette is that instead of the reds being lighter than the blues and darker than the yellows, the value alternates dark red dark yellow light red light yellow. Take a look at the color grids. You'll notice that for the most part, every color in the palette on the right looks good with every other color. That's not nearly as true for the palette on the left. The light blue has a weird vibration where it meets either of the reds, and a few of the pairings just aren't particularly pleasant. Honestly, from any objective ideas of color theory, this palette kind of sucks shit. Lets make some adjustments to it.

I've changed the dark yellow and light red hues so now the light red is slightly darker than the dark yellow. That's the palette that's on top now. Looks better, doesn't it? But so now the question becomes why am I using a palette that looks awkward, disharmonious, and visually strained when I know exactly how to fix it? The simple answer is because I wanted a color palette that's awkward. I wanted that visual strain. I have trouble working on comics and general, especially anything as long as this one, and I wanted a color palette that already meant things would come out looking a little bit wonky, so I wouldn't be as concerned with nitpicking all the details and making everything pretty. I think the sort of visual upset also fits the tone I'm keeping with a lot of the comic.

Remember earlier when I said I'd talk about breaking the rule of stuff looking good in gray scale and in color? That's now. Take a look at this image.

Which of the three colors is darker: the red, blue, or yellow? The stupid truth of it is that there's not really a proper way to tell. All three are technically the same 'brightness' but our brain tells us that the blue is the darkest, and the yellow is the lightest. Why do our brains do this? Let’s make em gray now.

On the bottom you can see what the colors look like when they are set to 0% saturation; as you'd expect it's a homogeneous gray blob. So then what the fuck is going on with the grayscale one? The grayscale one is closer to the way our brains interpret the colors, but we know this to be an improper rendering of their respective values. Which is the correct version, then – the grayscale or the desaturation? Luckily, we're using a computer, so we can have photoshop tell us the exact balance of hue, saturation, and brightness of any given pixel. Let's take a look now.

Wait, huh? We can plainly see that all three of the colors are at 49% brightness. But neither the desaturated value or any of the 3 grayscale values have a brightness of 49%. So what does a brightness of 49% look like?

Okay. Sure. Why not.

All of what I've just shown you regarding grayscale is to emphasize the point that your best judgment for which colors look good is a far better measuring stick for a good color palette than any technicalities. Even if the value is the same, the hue can differ enough that you can still get a beautiful finished drawing. Color and our perception of it is so, so vastly technically complex. You can not allow yourself to be bogged down by this. Simply practice, and color will become intuitive to you over time. I have a lot more I could say on the subject of picking and using your colors, but this is already insanely long. Feel free to ask any follow up questions, I hope this was of literally any use!

#long post #uhhhhh.#color theory #i guess #i drew this #Anonymous

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factual-fantasy · 4 years

Text

21 asks, some old some new, all basically just heart warming compliments. ♡ඩᴗඩ♡

You’re welcome!! And thank you so much!! Something I always love to do with characters like this is give them some crazy depth. Give answers for things that the media they’re from never answers. I always work really hard to make it all fit together and really feel natural and I’m so happy you noticed! (இ﹏இ`｡)

I’ll be sure to. I’m still feeling really crummy mentally, but taking a break from my lovely community of fans certainly didn’t make me feel any better. XD

Pfff Kitty cat Pirate man XD

Well you’re sort of right. Captain Barnacles is my favorite character 100%, but the reason why I draw those two together so often is because the show has established that they are really good friends.

Where ever the Captain is, Kwazii is usually nearby. Kwazii was the only one that knew about the Captains fear, Kwazii is the Octonauts lieutenant, which probably means that they spend a lot time around each other. They share a bed pod, they have had these little interactions that don’t happen with anyone else. Like fist bumps, shoulder pats etc.

They’re even used as an example of symbiosis in the crab and urchin episode! Now, you can interpret that how you’d like, but I believe the show is somewhat subtly trying to push the point that these two are best friends, like family even.

So when ever I draw Captain Barnacles, I always have an incentive to draw Kwazii with him. :}

Honestly by my headcannons, I feel like Kwazii would need it more than anyone else really. But yeah, the Captain could really use me a pick me up. XD

Dawww you’re welcome, I’m just glad everyone likes my art so much. ♡●ᴗ●♡

Th-Thank you!! That’s so sweet!! I’ll Be sure to keep making them!- Be sure to drop in some suggestions you guys so I know what ya’ll want to see!! :}

COMMERE YOU

(before I left for a break)

Well I may have needed more time to “relax”, but I just missed you guys too much lol.

Wow! That’s a lot of shows! I don’t recall really watching.. any of them.. any way uh- that aside, there are several shows I used to watch as a kid. Some weren’t meant for kids but were still funny to me.

For one, like I’m sure a lot of people did, I watched SpongeBob.

I also used to watch, of course, Octonauts. Although that was when I was a wee bit older.

I also used to watch The Three Stooges.. this one was for adults I think but it was still hilarious.

I also used to watch Beetle Baily, although this one was kind of like a once a year tradition type thing we did.

There may be one or two more but I don’t recall.. I mean, we did have one episode of speed racer that I watched over and over and over again. Or.. was it a movie? Heh, I uh, cant really recall..

(after my break announcement)

Thank you, turns out taking a break from Tumblr kind’a just made me miss the community. I felt really awful while I was gone but feel a little better after returning sooo.... guess I’m hangin around for a little while longer! :}

No I don’t ship anyone personally, although I can see how some of their dynamics could be seen like that.

Oh! No worries, that’s alright, and that thing is in the description as a heads up kind’a. If I tag my own art as ship or explicitly say it is okay to do so, then go for it. I just don't usually ship characters and don't want my art to be perceived incorrectly..

I have watched both Octonauts movies and season 1-3 on Netflix. When it comes to season 4, so far I haven't had much trouble just finding it on YouTube.

When it comes to watching season 4 in order, just go to the episode wiki, find the names in order and keep searching on YouTube until you’re sure you’re on the right episode. Pretty sure you can find basically all the Octonauts episode this way, go ahead and give it a shot! Hope it works!

To keep the fourth wall breaking to a minimum, what would my Transformer OCs think of Octonauts?

Suburban, A.T.Dragster, Green Truck, Escort, Vega, Red Van, Brown Suburban, Miata, AND Honda, most likely wouldn't really be interested and wouldn’t really have an opinion on the show, but they don't make fun of anyone who does watch it. No matter how old. Volvo specifically would respect the educational aspect of the show and most likely wouldn’t pick on anyone for watching it either.

U.M.Dragster would kind’a poke fun at the show and its imperfections. But low key is peeking around the corner wanting to know what the characters do next.

White Truck thinks it pretty cool and kind’a likes to watch it with others, but wont really go out of his way to watch it on his own.

Beluga would probably think its really cute, bet 10 bucks her favorite character is Kwazii.

Ranger would be hooked. She loves everything about Earths water and want’s to learn everything about it. Including the creatures that live in it. She would appreciate the show “dumbing everything down” for her, because she doesn’t know these basic things that kids know. Having everything “dumbed down” makes it easier for her to understand everything.

Jeepy’s driver used to make fun of me for watching it, but now he thinks it neat. So maybe he’d think its silly but eventually come around?

Bash Buggy cant see the screen-

But really Its cool though, he wouldn’t be all that interested in it even if he could watch it anyway.

Daww thank you! ♡●ᴗ●♡

Oh how cool! I never thought so many people grew up watching this too, I thought this show was really obscure! Glad I can share the nostalgia and joy with ya’ll through my art! :}

You mean the Vegimals? These little dudes?

I just haven’t had a good opportunity to draw them yet is all.

Hmmmm.... let me think.. I feel like my Transformer OCs would mostly like certain aspects of seasonal things, not one season and all of its aesthetics as a whole.

Suburban, Red Van, Escort, Brown Suburban and Green Truck love the bonfire part of colder weather. The warm, bright and surrounded by loved ones aspect of it is what they enjoy. Especially Brown Suburban. He loves bonfires man. The more light and heat the better, that poor mech is freezing his aft off out there in that old manky dark shed all by himself. He just wants to be around his loved ones where its warm and bright.

Miata would probably like pumpkin spice lattes, and just that aspect of fall. Beluga and Honda however would be all over fall and all its traditions. They’d be all over every season really, always up to date with trends and having fun.

The Dragsters are all about summer and its aesthetics. Summer is the prime time for dragstrips and the weather they function most efficiently in so they’re all for it.

Vega is more about fall. Sure its not really racing weather, but he does like all the pretty colors and the temperature is just right for him.

White Truck would like summer the most. He’d like the attire, the swimming, the warmth, all of it. He’d function a little on the edge I’d think though, he does have a bit of an overheating issue.. but still, I think summers for the win.

Ranger would like summer. Summer = more fish in the water. She loves to look at fish and be out in the water and just explore everything. Summer is when most of the fish are around so she’d really enjoy that. When it comes to seasonal outfits and food? Meh, waters cooler.

Volvo doesn't care for any weather or aesthetics honestly. But would prefer fall for its cooler temperatures. Having so many layers of armor is bound to make you overheat eventually.

Jeepy would like the fall and winter most of all, because of MUD. Going slipin, driftin and slidin with Bash is a real hoot, so he’d really like those seasons. He’s just built for them you know? Plus he’d kill a man for a glass of eggnog so he likes that aspect of cooler seasons too. :}

Bash Buggy likes summer and spring for the temperatures mostly. He also likes winter and fall, but because of the mud, he doesn’t like them for any other reason. Just the mud and goofing around with Jeepy. Everything else about those cold seasons are terrible, and he cant even see all the pretty colors and aesthetics so what does it matter? His body has no insulation anymore so the cold just eats him up, and he cant go outside in the snow because of his blindness and the cold. So he’s stuck shivering indoors while his friends go goof around in the snow without him. Colder seasons suck besides mud, the warmer ones are a win.

I don’t know, it just kind’a makes me uncomfortable. Not all artists are the same, not all artists like that.

It kind of feels like stealing to me in a way, I just don’t like it..

I want to, but I am completely halted by the knowledge that these comics don’t get much traction. They only get a handful of notes when I post them, which just makes them feel like a waste of time.

I’m weird about time. I don't like talking about my interests with others because I know I’m wasting their time and they don’t care anyway.

I am heavily discouraged to draw things online, not just because people steal, but because only a handful of people truly care and get excited about them.

And I mean, a handful of lovely followers, is a handful lovely followers. But you can see how a people pleaser like me would drift towards what people want me to draw instead of what I want to draw.

And when it comes to what people want me to draw? Besides those lovely few, people don’t want to see my comics.

#my response #octonauts #transformer ocs #about me

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berryblissbby · 3 years

Text

Whispers of the moon, endurance of the heart

Pairing: I have literally no clue I’m sorry. I have no set character but I can see Dabi, Aizawa, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Mattsun, Sakusa, Atsumu, Osamu, Kita, Suna, Jean, Reiner I know that’s a lot I’m sorry

Work Count: 1.4k

A/N: This story came to me very vividly, but i literally have no context. It started as one idea and then bloomed into this. I’m still pretty proud and wanted to share. I hope you like my vague, obscure story <3 He can turn into a wolf (I hope that clears one thing up lol)

The last smoke from the summer's festival fires had blown away on cooler winds today. The night sky crystalline from where you watched it in your bed, an inky blackness with winking stars.

The moon shone brightly, its view as clear as a looking glass, a glowing face in the sky. So bright, its light pooled into thought your window, lighting up your room, and the world outside.

The white panes of your window framed the sky, and were turned silver by the moonbeams. You watched the trees whose leaves brushed the bottom of that dark space. The leaves shone and swayed in a breeze, forever reaching to the endless sky.

You were cold. A cold that froze past your flesh. It seeped into your muscles and bones, frosting over your marrow. You felt fragile, so frozen over that you could shatter any moment. Porcelain.

A little doll, becoming more and more inanimate every day. Each night a piece of you would slowly freeze over, giving way to cool glossy glass.

How ironic the bed clothes you wore, a white silky nightgown, with lace along the trim, cutting low and stopping high along your thighs. The silk was a different kind of cold, it wrapped around you like a gentle breeze, brushing its icy fabric against your skin. You should have worn better nightclothes, warmer nightclothes. But it would have made no difference.

It had been a gift, you couldn’t resist wearing it once.

The fire that had once been burning bright past the foot of your bed was little more than embers now. Not that either felt any different from the other. No matter how great the fire, how many quilts you covered yourself with, or what you wore, you would be cold.

Looking again to the night sky, you curled your little porcelain toes, feeling just how frigid they were as they pressed into the pads of your feet. Next you curled your little porcelain fingers from where they were tucked away under your chin. You could have sworn you heard the glass tinkling, gently touching at the joints.

Nothing would make it better. Nothing but him.

You threw the blankets back, your body meeting the cold rush of air. Chills ran over you, gooseflesh spreading under the rapidly cooling silk covering your body. You pressed your feet to the floor, forgoing slippers. It was so cold it stung, but you fought the urge to curl back into your bed.

He was out there, you knew it. He was always out there, waiting. Watching and guarding.

You hated him; hated him so, so much. Everything he did filled you with anger, you loathed him like no other. Never having felt such disgust, his presence made you want to be sick. It made you want to curl into the recesses of your mind, to imagine a place where he couldn’t touch you.

Or at least, that's how you used to feel about him. How you still tell yourself to feel.

You don’t think of how those feelings had been replaced. Replaced with twitching fingers that longed to bury themselves in the warmth of downy fur. Replaced with dark eyes, yearning for rest.

You still hated him. You did.

Each step was colder than the last. Longing filled your bones, longing to not be standing, to rest. It was so hard to stand, to have your head so high.

You ignored the cushioned seat below you, letting yourself only kneel on it for a second while you unlocked the window and swung your legs over the sill. Carefully you slid down, your feet landing on the soft dirt, barren of any weeds or grass in favor of the manicured bushes and plants that surrounded the perimeter of the manor.

Making your way through the ever so carefully planted briar, you felt your nightgown catch and tug on twigs and branches, but didn’t stop. The moment your feet touched the grass beyond the garden plot, you fought to keep your knees strong.

Two more steps and you were tumbling into the grass, so soft and gentle against your frozen skin. Your breakable skin. It was so hard to be upright, the grass granted your heavy head refuge.

Running your fingers through it, you imagined it was the furry scruff you were craving. Imagined the dirt below it radiating heat, instead of sapping it from you.

You also couldn’t…. you couldn’t sleep. Stuck in an infuriating in between. Always drifting, never to fall over. The knife's edge that you had been skirting never giving way; always keeping you dozing. In between.

He would fix it.

You stared up at the night sky, falling into that space. The stars glowing pinpricks, only to be blotted out. You didn’t know when you would close your eyes, but suddenly they would be open again and you would be met with the face of the moon.

Laying not quite on your back, not quite on your side, you stayed there. Not quite asleep, not quite awake. Watching the trees sway, the wind whistle thought their branches, a harmony for the two of you. Freezing but numb.

He would find you.

He had thought you dead.

Only for a moment, when he first saw you as he prowled on padded feet. As his wolf gazed at you, it itched to release its claws and find the cause of what lay before him. Until he heard your beating heart, and even breaths.

Asleep but not. An angle, but earthly. His gentle Juliet, waiting among an altar of grass, shining in the moon.

He made his way to you, and watched as your eyes slowly blinked open, and shut again. Opening your arms you silently beckoned him. He entered them with no qualms, wanting to shudder at how you immediately ran your hands through his fur.

Burying his face in your neck, he shifted.

“You're not hurt.” A statement mumbled into your skin as he kneeled beside your splayed, pliant body.

A soft, “Mmm,” was your only response.

Nuzzling his face into your skin he took deep breaths. Looking for any sign of fear or adrenaline, smelling for any spilled blood. He emerged from your neck to look at your face. Turned to the moon, eyes closed.

“Is this you giving in to me?”

“No.” A simple answer, the easiest one you had to give.

Liar.

Liar, he wanted to sing, to scream and chant and repeat over and over. Liar, liar, liar. But it was your truth. No matter how many times you weakened, how many times you let him hold you, to make you better, you would never fully give yourself to him. Never wholly, in body and soul, in heart and mind.

“Shift.” You commanded, and he knew what you needed. He could feel how cold you were, how your legs were twitching for what you really wanted.

“Get on my back,” was all he could offer, turning into the vision of what you craved.

He tried not to think of how high your nightgown rose as you straddled him, and how tight your thighs were squeezing his hips.

Burying your face between his shoulders, he could feel your hot breath seeping through his coat. Your arms again wrapped around his neck, burrowing your fingers into his thick fur to rest among his downy undercoat, letting the heat from his body warm you.

He knew you were using him to fight the aching inside of you. But he would endure your stubbornness, cure its plight when you couldn’t stand it anymore and called for him.

Endurance would be his to conquer. To know through and through. To memorize the throbbing in his heart that it caused, the swelling and suffocation in his chest.

He could endure it. And you could use him.

He could especially endure it while he laid with you. In the place he had chosen with a view of the stars, where the spindly aspens parted just enough to let the cool moonlight through.

When you had your cold little fingers buried among his fur, resting against his skin; he could manage. From where he laid with his head in your lap, and his tail covering your toes, watching you breathe; he’d let you use him. And from where you laid, your torso resting along his side, your face turned to his, he would let you rest, to gain what you craved every moment you weren’t with him.

Your fleeting moment of warmth would be gone, a restful night of sleep would only last for so long. Soon enough you would call on him again, and he could endure, would endure, until then.

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obeymeoof · 5 years

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Hello! May I ask of hcs with the demon bros and their female s/o being extremely self-conscious of their scars? To the point where they will wear long sleeves/pants 24/7 so they can’t see it? Mainly due to how they make her feel ugly?? (Dw they’re not self-harm it’s just she’s extremely clumsy and they won’t fade away) Sorry if it’s weird and thanks for at least considering this ask :D

If it makes you feel any better i'm writing this right after i rolled my ankle while running through the rain in sandals ;-;

Lucifer

He doesn't notice at first really. He just thinks you're extra modest.

That is until the devildom starts getting even warmer weather than before.

He makes many trip to the human world throughout the year so he will notice a change in human attire in much cooler temperatures(for him.what hes seeing is summer clothes). So thats when it first gets his attention.

You’re literally sweating bullets, red faced with your long sleeve turtleneck and pants and hes just like ??? So he decides to ask why you dont just change

When(if) you explain he’ll be pretty understanding . Hes got some scars hes ashamed to have seen too.

But still, he tries reassures you that most of the other demons in the devildom have some inhuman scars and wont even bat an eye at your little human ones. He's not the best at comforting.

Encourages you to be more careful and keeps a watchful eye on you from then on out

Mammon

Cluess. Does not pay one ounce of attention.

He dosent comment on how you dress or marks you have in your body unless its a really good(bad) one.

If he sees it, he’ll ask about it because he wants to know who hurt HIS human and when and where he can kill them. Overreacts, really.

So when you tell him you did to yourself he’ll laugh, yes, BUT he will also be embarrassed at how he just acted. Over a HUMAN. So you two will be even.

He would be down to compare scars and tell each one’s story.

Tbh he probably has some caused by his brothers.

This could help you be more comfortable in your skin. Just think, your sitting there and someone asks about your scar and you and mammon make eye contact and just bust out laughing. Inside jokes galore.

Levi

Self conscious club party of 2

Also does not question the clothing because he is an envious, self conscious weeb.

If the topic comes up he's gonna snort and shake his head in disappointment.

“Duh!! You're even more of a normie than I thought!! Haven't you heard? Inside good, outside bad! Just stay in your room all day, everyday like I do and nothing can ever hurt you...physically at least.”

Doesn't really mind what you choose to wear but he will now try to use your clumsiness as an excuse to get you to stay in his room as if its a protective fortress.

Satan

Satan is extremely observant and knowledgeable. Not to mention, straightforward.

When he notices the pattern in your clothing style and the way you make sure parts of you never show, he straight up asks what you're hiding. Like, are you just self conscious or are you hiding a weapon?

When you explain he will let out a little laugh but he doesn't mean to make fun of you...too much.

Actually finds it quite cute how clumsy you are.

He won't try to make you wear something else but he will reassure you that you are beautiful no matter what.

Asmo

Oh boy, he notices immediately.

He's so disappointed that you’re ashamed of any part of you because he love EVERY part of you

Really, he has the hardest time understanding it. Who cares about the embarrassing stories? You don’t have to tell anyone. And anybody that even looks at you the wrong way has to face being absolutely canceled on all social media

Will hype you up ALL the time until(and after) you feel confident enough to wear different things that show more skin and you still feel comfortable in.

Will kiss all of your scars if it makes you feel better. and more if it gets to that point ;)

Beel(sorry his is short :p )

I can’t see him minding very much about what you wear or what you did in the past. He just wants to keep you safe

Will carry you around everywhere for a little while after first hearing about how clumsy you are. Has no problem carrying you forever if you want. Piggybacking is always welcomed too

Will listen to your insecurities and give you words of encouragement and make promises to never let you get hurt again

Belphie

Belphie has a ton of scars from where he just falls asleep in random places. Sometimes he’ll fall over and hit things so he can relate to being clumsy.

Would like to say that sleeping is the safest way to go but obviously that's not totally true.

Tells you that you have nothing to be ashamed of because you are amazing and scars don’t change that.

“If anyone should be embarrassed its me. at least yours are from different things. mine are just from me doing the same thing over and over again”

Hes one to laugh it off and sleep it off immediately after

Dont worry though, really! Ive got a scar on my forehead where i bashed into the wall while swimming and not oaying attention. I just decided that it’s something unique to me now haha

#modditz #obey me! mammon #obey me swd #obey me! swd #obey me luci #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #local clutz here

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itsagutthing · 4 years

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Places Carrie Mathison Has Lived: New York City Edition

this installment of my carrie’s apartments series is close to my heart because i also live in brooklyn, though not close to carrie. the show actually filmed a scene just a block from my apartment, but for obvious reasons i’m not going to specify which scene. i know, season six is overall meh with the exception of carrie’s blazers, but my lizard brain still goes, “that’s where i live!” so i give it more leeway than i probably should.

carrie lives in the bedford-stuyvesant neighborhood of brooklyn, which was once primarily home to black and latino families but unfortunately is in the process of gentrifying. some light googling tells me they filmed the interior apartment scenes on a soundstage in another brooklyn neighborhood called greenpoint, which begs the question: why didn’t they just make carrie live there? greenpoint has also been gentrified but is mostly home to eastern european immigrants, so the writers could have avoided the questionable racial implications of carrie living in bed-stuy, particularly when she’s working at a non-profit that promotes racial justice. and greenpoint is also more convenient to her office in williamsburg! i know the answer to this question is probably just “brownstones look pretty,” and there are lots of brownstones in bed-stuy but not in greenpoint, but i’ll still bitch about it.

anyway, we know from quinn’s escape to the bodega in 6.02 that carrie lives close to the intersection of throop avenue and halsey street, which means she lives off of the kingston-throop A and C trains and a sort-of far walk from the bedford-nostrand G. she probably takes the G to work in williamsburg. this is information that’s only important to me, but i love public transit.

the bike lane sign in the screenshot above reminds me how much i loved seeing carrie biking around berlin. even though nyc isn’t nearly as bike-friendly, i hope she does the same in brooklyn.

carrie appears to have free reign of the entire brownstone, which must have been two separate units at some point — both where she and franny live and the ~garden apartment~ on the basement level that has both a full bath and kitchen. she obviously can’t afford to rent out an entire brownstone in new york city, even in bed-stuy, so my headcanon is that otto bought it as an investment property and is letting carrie and franny stay in it at a heavily discounted rate.

brownstones are typically long and skinny, as we see here. there are really only two rooms on the first floor: the living room and the kitchen.

i love seeing all of franny’s drawings strung up on the living room wall and her chalkboard/easel in the corner. this fixes an issue i had with carrie’s berlin apartment, which was that there was a weird lack of kid stuff. i don’t think that means anything on its own — we see in 5.01 how devoted carrie was to her seemingly normal life as a mother — but it’s nice to see more little touches in her brooklyn apartment.

i assume the fireplace in the left-hand corner isn’t actually usable, but it does make the living room look homier. i’m surprised there isn’t more carpeting, since carrie loves a patterned rug. the living room looks a little cold without it. maybe she isn’t done decorating yet, though i think we’re supposed to believe they’ve been in nyc for a few months.

there’s a tv next to the fireplace in 6.05 that isn’t there in 6.01, which is very strange placement. the only furniture opposite the tv is a desk and chair, so there’s nowhere to sit comfortably while watching. i don’t think carrie spends a lot of time watching tv, but that’s still a confusing choice. i do like franny’s fuzzy chair with bunny ears, though. carrie probably ordered it on amazon but i like to imagine her schlepping it in and out of a cab.

now for the kitchen:

one nice thing the show did to convince us that this is an apartment carrie could maybe afford is that it’s not newly renovated: all the kitchen appliances are basic and/or old, and the countertops look like plastic laminate and are chipped along the edges. and there’s no room for the nice cutting boards or espresso machine she had in germany! i always find barstools charming even if they’re just a cheat to make an efficient use of counter space.

my favorite detail in the kitchen is the trio of framed drawings done by franny. again, i love all the “carrie’s a mom, remember?” touches.

the curtains are a gold color and match the curtains in the living room! carrie learned some design lessons in berlin.

even in the daytime the whole first floor feels really dark, which makes me miss the floor-to-ceiling windows in berlin. i brightened the screenshots a lot to see the details, but especially in the living room, the sunlight just doesn’t reach all the way across the house. the lack of natural light (and the fact that they filmed during the late fall) does a lot of quick work to set the dreary tone that persists for the entire season. i can’t help but compare it to the americans, which also filmed in brooklyn in the fall/winter, but at least the indoor scenes in that show were well-lit and generally warmer in both color and tone.

i associate the early seasons of homeland with warm yellows, probably because they filmed either in the desert or in charlotte in the summertime. the shift to gray winter skies and heavy coats is a little jarring, even with berlin in the middle as a transitional urban, cooler season.

that door behind carrie goes out to a set of stairs and their little backyard/patio:

it’s common, if a little depressing, to have bars on first-floor windows as shown in the second shot above, both to child-proof an apartment from the inside and to prevent break-ins. our first view of franny for the season is through those bars, but i’m not entirely sure what the symbolism is supposed to be. carrie already feels a separation from franny, maybe? this shot especially feels super foreboding.

carrie continues her trend of killer outdoor lounge furniture (remember the multiple chaises on her DC patio?) with the wooden chair with blue cushions right outside the back door. there are also more potted plants than i believe carrie would purchase/remember to water, especially in the winter, but maybe she figures if they’re outside they’ll get enough rain to survive.

i don’t have a lot to say about the patio itself other than i’m jealous that carrie has outdoor space.

inside by the stairs/front entryway is a framed berlin jazz poster which makes me inexplicably happy, and follows the same trend with the jazz posters she had in her DC apartment. it’s hard to tell what’s in the photos, so i’m choosing to believe they’re pictures of places she and franny loved in berlin, including some of the two of them taken by jonas. there is absolutely a photo of franny and carrie at the birthday party we saw in 5.01 where carrie’s wearing that balloon hat.

we don’t get to see a lot of the second floor, but i’m going to assume it’s just franny’s room, carrie’s room, carrie’s weird conspiracy closet, and a bathroom.

franny’s room is very colorful, with the rainbow sheets and rainbow polka dot curtains. it makes up for the dreariness of the first floor. behind carrie in that second shot is franny’s star lamp, which i love but have many questions about. it’s obviously an allusion to brody, of which there are many in season 6, probably because they’re in new york city and brody would have never served/been captured/turned/bonded with carrie if not for 9/11. assuming that carrie purchased this lamp for franny with brody’s memory in mind, does franny have anything else that’s star themed? if not, why this lamp? did carrie explain to franny that stars make her think of franny’s father, or is it just a secret nod for carrie alone? how often does carrie talk to franny about brody, if at all?

now we move to carrie’s conspiracy closet:

i’ve been in enough brownstones to know that sometimes there are strange inexplicable tiny rooms, which is what we have here. i’m sure this would be advertised as an office space on streeteasy but it really looks like a glorified closet with a confusing number of doors leading off of it. i count three total including the one saul came in — what are all these doors? i think the one on saul’s right goes to franny’s room but i don’t have a great spatial brain and i’m not confident about that assessment.

this conspiracy board reveal was kinda anticlimactic since very little happens with it, but i still felt like i needed to include it as a separate room since carrie clearly spends a lot of time here.

i wish we got to see carrie’s bedroom because i love to scrutinize the art she has, but sadly we’re limited to franny’s room. i’m going to assume there’s a full bath up here somewhere, and a half bath downstairs that we don’t see.

finally, we have the basement apartment that carrie allegedly rents out on airbnb. in real life it likely would be marketed as an entire unit separate from the two floors above, but since otto owns the entire brownstone / is in love with carrie he’s just letting her do whatever she wants with it.

the full kitchen is what convinces me it was supposed to be an independent unit — no one has a stove and sink and lots of cabinets in their basement. like we saw in carrie’s kitchen, none of the appliances are fancy and the countertops are nothing special, which makes the room look kinda drab but does help sell the idea that carrie could actually live here. there’s also some water damage in the corner by the fridge. i’m not sure why they decided to be realistic in season 6 — can we all recall carrie’s unnecessary two-bedroom townhouse in DC? — and it’s not particularly fun to watch, but i’m not mad about it.

the living room area of this basement actually looks cozier than carrie’s living room, with all the pillows and the exposed brick wall. i have a weakness for exposed brick walls, as we know from carrie’s DC apartment, and here it goes pretty far to make the space look homey. the couch looks like it matches the chair on her patio (with the wood frame + blue cushions), so does that mean the patio chair is meant for normal indoor use? why is it outside??

as we know from her berlin apartment, carrie really loves a two-curtain combo with a sheer under layer. these are dark green, similar to the navy ones she loved in berlin but not the same. i do like the thought of carrie taking her navy curtains with her from germany and relegating them to the basement to avoid the constant reminder of her past life, but i also have no desire to think about what it would mean that quinn ends up living in the basement with her jonas curtains. so those must be new!

in summary: musings about carrie’s role in gentrification, the color palette of the show, berlin jazz poster + photos, franny’s art on the walls, star lamp, a basement living room that’s cozier than carrie’s actual living room!

#homeland #carrie mathison #me acknowledging qu*nn's existence? only because i needed the screenshots #me bringing up jonas for no reason? of course #i cropped/brightened these photos while watching gilmore girls which sure was a tonal shift #cma*#i miss carrie even though i have every single episode at my fingertips

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sleepydew-valley · 4 years

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Quarantined Shane Day: 2

Day 1

Here is a continuation of my story of Shane in quarantine. The first part can be read in the link above. Again pretty long. I don’t know what the standard is on tumblr, but I’m not good a writing short stories so here we are

Day 2:

Nico wiped the sweat of his forehead. Even though it was still early spring, it was definitely starting to get warmer and that meant it would be a bit harder working outside. Of course, he had gotten used to the farm work, but working outside had its up and downs. Like when the weather is this good, why was he working instead of enjoying the sun in the forest or on the beach?

His work was interrupted when his phone started ringing. It was almost noon and Nico wondered who would be calling him at this time. He noticed it was number he hadn’t added to his contact yet, but still opted for answering it without any hesitation.

“Hallo?”

“Nico, hi.”

Nico felt his body stiffen. “Shane?”

He should have recognized the number, or at least saved it to his contacts from yesterday. Maybe Shane would call more often now. Or maybe he was calling to ask if Nico could bring by Jas again. Shane probably missed his niece.

“Yeah, uh it’s Shane. I’m not interrupting anything, right?” Shane said, sounding less confident with each word.

“No, no, not at all.” Nico said and looked down at his hoe, his work was luckily something that could be postponed for a little while. “What’s up?”

There was a short silence before Shane spoke up.

“Well I saved your number from yesterday and uh- I’m calling today because uhm… I wanted to thank you.”

It was clear Shane felt awkward. He cleared his throat before he continued. Nico felt the need to say he didn’t have to thank him, but he worried he would ruin the conversation and Shane would hang up on him.

“Uh, I didn’t think I would get the chance to explain the situation to Jas this soon and also I know I’m going to miss her a ton and I wasn’t sure when I would see her, because Marnie decided to let her live elsewhere in the meantime, and didn’t specify if she was planning on bringing Jas over or if I was just going to- anyway, I’m rambling, I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for bringing her over. I mean even Marnie hadn’t thought to bring her outside my window and you don’t owe me anything but you still did this.”

“It’s not problem.” Nico said. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest. He felt the sweat in his palms, but he knew it wasn’t because of the weather this time. “I-I can bring her by again, whenever you need me to.”

“I really appreciate you doing this.”

Nico nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say next. He had been in Pelican Town for a year now, but in that time, he hadn’t had many conversations with Shane and much fewer friendly conversations with Shane. The first few interactions were Shane wondering why Nico even bothered approaching a stranger. But Shane warmed up a bit, or at least stopped being rude when he saw Nico being friendly with Jas. For some reason Nico found it easier to socialize with the kids. They were easy to impress and if he had anything, they deemed cool, they opened up to him right away. Vincent had even said he was one of the cooler adults and Jas also complimented his playing skills. He probably shouldn’t feel proud of that, but for some reason he did.

But this was different. Shane was being nice to him. Nico had expected him to be grateful, but not to call like this. Had he secretly hoped something like this would happen? No way. Not a chance. It was only for Jas.

There was a lull in the conversation and Nico wondered if the conversation was about to end here. Maybe Shane would hang up once he found the right words for saying goodbye.

“Oh uhm, that reminds that I should thank you as well.” Nico said. He should just let the conversation die here but he didn’t want to.

“For what?” Shane asked confused.

“The repair on the heater, it went really well because of your instructions. It works perfectly now… well I mean- it does its job like it should.” Nico said.

“Oh no need to thank me for that.” Shane said dismissively. “That’s just part of my job.”

“Your job? You actually work for Marnie?”

“Well I help out when I can. Obviously not that often because of my job at JojaMart… but if Marnie is not there and I’m available, we have an agreement I don’t leave the customer hanging.” Shane said. “And it’s also me who take care of the chickens, so it’s also kind of my responsibilities to know how things like the heater work.”

“Oh, so you’re the chicken man?” Nico immediately regretted the words coming out of his mouth. They were being friendly towards each other and now Nico decided it was appropriate to call Shane the chicken man, he was surely going to hate Nico from now. He wished the earth would open and swallow him.

But Shane didn’t snap at Nico, no instead he chuckled. “That’s not official title, but yes if you need help with the chickens, I’m definitely your guy.”

Nico felt the tension leave his body. Still, he felt something tug in his heart again. Also, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the sound of Shane chuckling.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Nico said. “I’m still a bit new to the chicken care… so I’ll probably call with some questions, if that’s okay?”

“It’s not a problem.”

His heart jumped. It actually felt like his heart made a tiny leap in his chest. He had to calm down. This was just a normal conversation between two people. It was no big deal.

“So uh- besides chicken care, how are you spending your time? I mean – well how is quarantine going so far?” Normal. No big deal.

“So far I’ve been playing video games to pass time and honestly – I spend the entire time yesterday playing the games I have in my room and the thought of doing that for the next two weeks – it makes me want to throw the TV out the window.”

“I guess it’s hard being isolated by yourself.” Nico said. “you should try to find a new hobby or at least something new to do.”

He nervously playing with his nails. This was the longest interactions they ever had before.

“yeah but it’s not like I have many options in my room.”

“I guess that’s true… but if-if you need someone to talk to when you’re, you know, too bored – you’re always welcome to call me.” Nico wanted to dig a hole for himself and just disappear from the world. This was the opposite of smooth. Shane might feel like Nico was coming on too strong. But Nico wasn’t coming on or anything. He wasn’t trying to get closer to Shane. He was just offering his help. That’s all it was.

“Thanks. I might take you up on that.”

And Nico felt incredibly happy that his help was received positively by Shane, maybe a tad bit happier than one without any kind of feelings for Shane should be feeling, but this was completely normal he told himself. Normal. Not a big deal. Yet his heart still pounded loudly.

**********

Nico had talked with Shane much longer than he ever could have hoped for. It was probably because Shane was bored and there was no one at the ranch to entertain him. But even so, he still seemed interested in talking with Nico. At first, he had feared he had talked about the farm too much because of all the topics Nico could talk about, his new farm life was one he couldn’t shut up about. He talked about all the things he had renovated at the farm and improved since he moved in. He talked about how much work he was still missing and how it seemed endless. He was a bit worried he had scared Shane off with all his talk about the farm. Maybe he seemed like much less interesting person now. In fact, when Nico thought back to the conversation Shane hadn’t talked much about himself. The only thing he said was he had never been to the farm since Nico moved in (which made Nico almost invite him over after the quarantine, but he was quick to stop himself from doing something embarrassing).

Maybe Shane didn’t like talking about himself. Or maybe Nico hadn’t let him say anything about himself? Nico worried he might seem too self-absorbed to Shane now. What if this was their last call together, where it wouldn’t be Shane asking to see Jas? Or what if he didn’t even want to ask for Jas because he didn’t even want to talk to Nico?

He took a deep breath. He shouldn’t be overthinking it like this. Tomorrow would be a new day and maybe he would have chance to talk to Shane again.

He checked the time to see it was already 8 o’clock. Usually he wouldn’t finish this late but the call with Shane had slowed down his routines. He rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t mind talking with Shane, but he had to learn how to multitask better.

He was headed for the shower when he heard a knock on the door. He wondered who would come this late in the day. When he opened the door, he saw Jas on the other side.

She was wearing a light jacket and had a small backpack on.

Nico looked around her to see if someone else was accompanying her, but as he feared no one else was outside besides her.

She looked up at him with a hopeful smile.

“Jas, what are you doing here?” He asked incredulously.

She smiled vanished at his question and she looked down at her feet. Her right foot scraped against the wooden board on the patio.

“Come inside, and we can talk.” Nico said and guided her with his hand on her back.

She walked inside and he closed the door behind her. He knelt down beside her and she looked him in the eyes.

“Did you come here alone?”

“Mayor Lewis didn’t want to take me see Shane, and he didn’t want to call him either. He was so mean and he said Shane was sick – and then Marnie came and I asked her to take me there but she wouldn’t either. And they don’t have a phone to call him with.” She finished her ramble with a pout. But then she looked away from Nico. “you said you would take me to see him whenever I needed to…”

“So that’s why you came here?”

She nodded as she looked down at her hands. Nico sighed and he pulled out his phone. He opted for video chatting Shane this time, as Jas would probably appreciate seeing her Uncle’s face.

“Hey, why are you calling-“

“Jas is here.” Nico interrupted Shane’s greeting. “She snuck out of Mayor Lewis house and came here. She was hoping I would take her to see you.”

Shane closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Nico angled the camera towards Jas when Shane asked if he could speak with her. He put his hand on Jas shoulder, silently hoping Shane wouldn’t scold her too much. At least not enough to make her sad because he wasn’t sure how he would comfort her and he didn’t want to see her sad either.

But Shane put on a small smile when he saw his niece. “Hey Pumpkin.” He said with a soothing tone.

Jas’ face lit up when she heard Shane. “Uncle Shane-“

“I know you miss me and it’s hard for you, but you can’t sneak out like this. Did you tell Marnie you were going there?”

There was no doubt about the answer. Marnie would never have let her go out alone in evening. Jas also knew she couldn’t lie and instead dropped her head and mumbled a no.

“I’ll take you to see Shane in the daytime, okay?” Nico said, trying to cheer her up.

But she didn’t raise her head. “I don’t like Mayor Lewis. He doesn’t want to play with me. And he made broccoli soup for dinner and I don’t like broccoli.”

Shane looked at her sympathetically. It was clear he was at lost for words on how to comfort her.

That’s when Nico thought of an idea. He wasn’t sure if it was good or if Shane would even like the idea, but this time it really was just for Jas.

“Maybe she could stay here instead?” He suggested.

Finally, Jas looked up and turned her head towards Nico. She had a wide smile on her face, clearly excited about the idea. “Really? Can I?” She then turned towards the phone again, “can I, Uncle Shane? Please, can I?” She added a prolonged please at the end.

Shane scratched his beard thoughtfully. Nico hadn’t noticed until now that it was becoming more pronounced than usual. Shane was only a few days away from having actual beard, as opposed to the scruff. Nico had to admit it looked good on him.

Shane interrupted his thoughts when he asked: “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Nico?”

“Yeah, of course. Jas can stay as long as needed and she can just ask me whenever she needs to talk to you.” Nico said. “At least I think she should stay with someone who at the very least have a phone.”

Mayor Lewis thought he didn’t need one because he could walk everywhere in Pelican Town and if everyone was in walking distance why would you need a phone? Nico had wanted to suggest that the “walk” was several kilometres long and seemed innocuous when just asking for small matters. But he had quickly learned Mayor Lewis didn’t take suggestions easily.

“I guess it seems better than having her sneak out like this. And I don’t want her to be miserable either.” Shane conceded. “It’s fine as long as Marnie is okay with it.”

Jas jumped slightly of joy. She took off her backpack, but Shane was quick to interrupt her.

“You still need to go see Marnie. I’m sure she’s worried, so you better go quickly.” Shane said. “Also, if she says no then I’m sorry Jas but there is nothing I can do.”

“Really?”

Shane looked to the side, “I mean of course I’ll try to talk to her, but you also have to listen to your Aunt, okay?”

Nico smiled. He had a feeling Jas could make Shane doing anything for her.

“Come on, Jas, let’s go see Marnie.”

He stood up and took her hand. They said their goodbyes to Shane and started the walk towards the town. These are times where Nico would have appreciated Mayor Lewis having a phone. Marnie at least had a landline, but it did no good when she wasn’t there to pick up the phone.

“Do you think she’ll be angry with me?”

Nico would do anything for Marnie not to be angry with Jas. She already looked so sad and Nico didn’t want to see her scolded. Although he knew she had done wrong, he also understood why she had done it. But it wasn’t his job to parent her and he couldn’t interfere with how Marnie chose to handle the situation. He also realized he wasn’t that different from Shane and he would probably do anything for her.

“I think she’s worried and you know what you did what wrong, but I also think she’ll understand.” Nico said and hoped he was right.

As they neared the town and made the walk towards Mayor Lewis house, Nico looked around him just to make sure they didn’t miss Marnie or Lewis on the way to the house. It could be they were outside looking for Jas. Luckily for them though, when they knocked on the door to the house, Marnie was the one to open it.

“Jas!” She exclaimed as soon as she saw the little girl. She quickly enveloped her into a hug.

Lewis stood behind Marnie and although not nearly as excited as Marnie to see Jas, he looked incredibly relieved.

“She came to my house, hoping to get a chance to talk to Shane.” Nico explained. “We talked with Shane earlier… and I guess she came to me hoping for the same thing to happen again.”

Marnie’s face softened when she heard that. She leaned out of the hug and caressed Jas’ hair.

“I’m sorry, Jas. I know you miss him.”

“It’s not fair that he has to be all alone.”

Well Marnie would be at the ranch – but that’s when Nico noticed Marnie was in her nightgown. She had intended to sleep here with Jas. Now he really felt sorry for Shane.

“We actually have an idea.” Nico said. “And I already talked to Shane about it… but I suggested maybe Jas could stay at my house, while Shane is quarantined. That way I can call Shane whenever she needs to talk with him… and we avoid incidents like this.”

Marnie looked up at Nico, and he instantly wondered if this was a horrible idea and she was about to tell him off for even suggesting it.

“Shane said as long as you’re good with it, he doesn’t mind.” Nico quickly clarified.

Marnie looked back at Mayor Lewis who only shrugged.

“Well I don’t want to come between you and Uncle Shane.” Marnie said. She didn’t sound too keen on the idea, but at least she was on board. “and I can come by and check up on your once in awhile.”

Jas beamed at the words. She ran into the bedroom, presumably to get all of her things.

“I promise to take good care of her.”

Marnie just nodded with smile before she went to the bedroom to help Jas pack her things.

#stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #shane fanfic #shane x male farmer #shane and jas #quarantined Shane #let's see how long it takes me to finish this #let's see if I'm able to finish it #honestly i wanted to write it faster #but it's been a hard few weeks #hopefully i'll feel better when i'm back in therapy #i also want to see this finished #I have planned out the whole quarantine #I just need to write it i guess #i also find myself going to bed thinking about the story #which is nice #but also annoying when I have barely written anything #anyway I hope to be faster in the future #I should stop rambling in the tags

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patchwork-panda · 4 years

Text

If A Moment Is All We Are (34/?)

AO3 link HERE

S1 OP2

I let go of Dazai and scrambled to my feet.

What was that...? That ominous feeling?

“Kusunoki-san!”

I looked up to see Atsushi rushing towards me with a roll of paper towels in his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his golden eyes wide.

“I’m fine, Atsushi-kun,” I mumbled, watching the ink from Kei’s suicide note run down the page and drip onto the floor. “Sorry for scaring you...”

“That’s okay! Here, let me help.”

As Atsushi and I began mopping up the mess, I glanced down at the remnants of the mug on the floor. It had landed directly on its side, at Dazai’s feet, and split open against the tiles. From this angle, it looked like a rectangle of stained white ceramic sticking out of the bright green flooring...

Kind of like Kei’s headstone sticking out of that patch of grass in the cemetery.

I frowned.

No, not like Kei’s. Kei’s grave hadn’t been so isolated; he, like countless others, had been buried in a neatly organized row that stretched all the way across the terraced hillside as far as the eye could see.

The mug sticking out of the ground looked more like...

A soft breeze from one of the open windows whispered through my hair and as I looked up to see which one it was, a thin ribbon of dull white floating in the air caught my eye.

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time...”

Dazai blinked at me as I peered up at him.

He seemed completely unaware of the fact that one of the bandages around his wrist was slowly unraveling in the breeze.

“I wouldn’t mind telling you what I know... about that man...”

I stopped wiping at the tea on floor.

That’s right...

“Something on your mind,” Dazai asked, his brown eyes sparkling as they met mine, “Kusunoki-kun?”

The broken down mug looked a lot more like the single lonely grave that stood by itself under the shade of the tree on the hill.

The grave of “S. Oda.”

I slowly got to my feet.

“Dazai-san?”

“Yes?”

I paused for a moment as he looked at me expectantly.

“Do you remember when you pulled me out of the car, after Akutagawa attacked me?”

“How could I forget?” Dazai chuckled, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his own desk. “You let me pull you into my lap and you didn’t complain one bit—”

“That’s not what I want to talk about,” I said quickly, flushing slightly as a passing Tanizaki shot me an odd look. “I actually want to ask you about the thing you said just before I passed out.”

Dazai raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

He placed one hand on my desk and leaned in a little, suddenly looking at me with an unusual amount of interest.

“...Which thing?” he asked, his voice oddly dry.

“Y-you know,” I stammered, looking away from his unusually intense stare.

Unable to face him, I turned away and went back to cleaning up my desk area, my face suddenly much warmer than before as I finished wiping off the surface of my desk. I could still feel Dazai’s eyes on me as I waved goodbye to Atsushi, who was setting off for the client booth at a pretty brisk pace. And when I turned back around, I realized that Dazai hadn’t taken his eyes off me the entire time.

My legs suddenly felt weak.

It’s like he forgot that there was anyone else in the room with him...

I swallowed.

“Do you remember what you said?” I asked, wishing I could loosen the ribbon around my neck without Dazai noticing. “About the man Akutagawa mentioned?”

I paused for a moment.

“You know, Oda-san?”

Dazai stiffened.

Looks like I remembered correctly...

I watched as he shifted back a little, away from me, his coffee-brown eyes going dark.

He does know something...

“Oda-san, huh...” he mused, tilting his head to the side as he looked past me, through me, seemingly deep in thought.

“That’s right,” I pressed, confused by the abrupt change in atmosphere.

Atsushi had closed the window on his way out towards the client booth and although the wind was no longer blowing throughout the office, it suddenly felt much cooler by our shared work space than before.

“You seemed to know Akutagawa from before. And from the way you talked that day, it sounded like you knew something about ‘Oda-san,’ as well. Dazai-san...”

I stepped forward, trying to catch the tall brunette’s gaze as he suddenly took notice of the bandages unraveling around his wrist and began re-wrapping them once more.

“Do you think you could tell me what you know about Oda-san? Anything at all?”

“I could...” Dazai said slowly, his eyes still trained on his forearm as he continued bandaging it up.

He pursed his lips.

“Let me think for a minute.”

Cautiously, I waited in silence with bated breath until Dazai finished tucking his bandages in place and looked up at me at last.

He smiled.

“I guess I could tell you a thing or two about the man named Oda,” Dazai said, tucking his hands back into his pants pockets.

“If that’s what you really want.”

“It is,” I said in a rush. “Thank you so much—”

“But, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai said, interrupting me.

Tilting his head to the side, he shot me a curious look.

“Why are you asking me about Oda-san all of a sudden? Did something happen during your case that reminded you of him?”

I faltered.

“Kind of,” I admitted, scratching my cheek. “You see, when I followed Professor Matsuyama yesterday, I ended up following him to a cemetery, on the other side of the bay.”

Dazai nodded.

“Go on.”

“And while I was there, I passed by this grave...”

“Uh-huh.”

Dazai’s gaze was steady.

“Keep going.”

I bit my lip.

“Right. There was this grave in the cemetery and it was marked ‘S. Oda.’ I was wondering...”

I trailed off.

The longer I spoke, the more ridiculous my question seemed. I was beginning to wonder if I should just give up and stop, but something about the way Dazai was looking at me made me think that I wasn’t as far off the mark as I thought I was.

I took a tiny breath in and asked.

“Dazai-san, is it possible that the man Akutagawa mentioned and the man buried on the hill are the same person?”

Dazai remained quiet.

“I mean,” I stammered, heat slowly blooming in my cheeks. “They’re—they’re both d-dead. Right?”

Silence reigned.

I heard a phone ringing for a moment in the background before Kyouka abruptly picked it up and answered it in her quiet, expressionless voice.

I looked away and flushed.

“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled, covering my face in mortification. “Y-you’re right, that was stupid. The logic, it just—there’s so many people out there named Oda—!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Dazai said, sounding so calm that it only made me feel even more embarrassed.

I heard a clunk and glanced over just in time to see Dazai heave all of the electrical cables he’d collected before onto his chair. He dusted off his hands and looked up at me.

“How do you know the person buried on the hill is a man?” he asked.

My face feels so hot, I probably look like a tomato right now.

“I...”

I collapsed into my chair and let my burning face fall back into my hands.

“I don’t.”

“Ah, well then.”

And with that, Dazai grabbed a couple of the extension cables, stuck them in his vest and wandered off.

“If you don’t have any more questions for me,” he said, heading towards the inner hallway, where the locker room and break rooms were, “then I’ll get back to doing what I was doing.”

“Hey, wait!” I cried, scrambling to my feet.

I raced after him.

“Dazai-san, wait!!”

Cursing under my breath as I smacked into Tanizaki, I pushed him aside and ran out of the main office, chasing after that tall, bandaged form as he disappeared down the hallway.

“Dazai-san, where are you going?!”

My Oxfords squeaked noisily against the floor as I screeched to a halt just outside the break room. Dazai hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on when he’d gone in and it was only thanks to the sudden sparks from the miniature stove igniting that I was able to spot him standing inside. The bandaged brunette turned to me just as I stepped through the door and as he lifted the tea kettle onto the stove, I tried to turn on the lights, only to find that they were now broken.

I squinted at him through the gloom.

“What are you doing?”

“Making tea.”

And to demonstrate, he reached inside the uppermost cabinet and took out a small paper packet of black tea.

“Want some?” he asked, shaking the packet at me.

“No, thanks,” I mumbled, suddenly realizing with a stab of guilt that I hadn’t made him a cup earlier, even though I’d passed them around to everyone else.

It’s because he wasn’t in the room until just now...

But I’d made a cup for Kunikida and as I watched Dazai tear open the packet and lift out the teabag, I tried not to notice that the miniature thermos I’d set aside for the tall blonde detective was sitting right by the tea kettle. There was even a post-it note with Kunikida’s name on it...

Tearing my eyes away from the incriminating evidence, I tried to put a smile on my face and focused on Dazai.

“Um...”

“What is it, Kusunoki-kun?” he asked, glancing back up at me with a grin.

Although it seemed like he was completely unaware of the presence of the thermos, it was only a few centimeters away from his right hand. I chewed my lip.

“You have another question for me?” he asked, reaching right past it and pouring himself a cup of hot water.

I faltered.

“Uh...”

Did I?

Now that I think about it, why did I follow him all the way out here?

“N-not really,” I mumbled sheepishly, turning to go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you...”

“Oh, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai chuckled, dunking his tea sachet into the mug. “I could never think of you a bother. Please.”

He waved his re-bandaged hand casually in the air.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, go right ahead. I’m always available when there’s a cute girl in need of my services.”

“R-right,” I mumbled, noticing the way the extension cables in his vest shifted as he moved.

I paused in the middle of the room.

“Dazai-san. You’re... okay, right?”

I turned and glanced nervously at the cables once again.

“You’re not really planning to hang yourself in the break room, right?”

“Who said anything about hanging myself in here?” Dazai returned, letting his teabag fall fully into his cup.

He set the mug down onto the counter behind him.

“I couldn’t if I tried. One—”

He tugged out both of the cords in his vest and dangled them in front of me. The longer one didn’t even reach the bottom of his black vest.

“It’s like I said before: these cords are way too short for that. I couldn’t make a noose out of these if I tried. Two.”

He pointed one slim finger at the ceiling.

“No beams here. Meaning there’s nowhere to hang from.”

“I... I see...”

And as I followed his gesture up towards the ceiling to check, Dazai picked up his mug, took a long, slow sip of his tea and released a long and heavy sigh.

“Kusunoki...”

“Hm?”

I returned my gaze to Dazai, only to see the bandaged brunette staring quietly and contemplatively into his tea. Kunikida’s thermos was sitting right by his bandaged elbow and as Dazai leaned back a little further against the counter, I watched him push it back a little further against the wall.

“Why the sudden interest in suicide?” he asked, observing me from his place by the counter. “Does this have something to do with your case? You know, since one of the men you’re investigating killed himself all those years ago? Or perhaps...”

He raised the mug to his lips and took a slow, contemplative sip, his dark eyes fixed upon mine over the white porcelain rim.

I swallowed.

“Perhaps...?” I repeated.

Dazai lowered the mug, his eyes never quite leaving my face and without knowing why, I felt my pulse begin to race.

He smiled.

“Perhaps you actually followed me in here because you were worried about me?”

I inhaled sharply.

I...

“Just kidding,” Dazai chuckled.

He set his mug down on the counter and grinned.

“But you know, if you did follow me in here to talk about suicide methods,” he drawled, sauntering towards me with his hands in his pockets. “Then you definitely came to the right man.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Oh, the things I could teach you, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai sighed, a faraway look appearing in his glittering brown eyes. “I could teach you everything you could want to know and more about committing a good, clean suicide. You know—!”

He stopped before me, his grin widening.

“The kind of things you couldn’t find with a quick internet search. Did you know that if you search for ‘ways to kill yourself’ on any search engine, it redirects you to—”

“—the national suicide prevention hotline.”

I dropped my gaze as an old memory, seemingly from another time, slowly resurfaced.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, staring down at the floor. “I know...”

A laptop open to a search engine in the middle of the night, the harsh blue glow of the brightly-lit screen filling up the room, flickering on the walls...

I pressed enter and in the blink of an eye, the screen changed from the search page to the results.

A long, drawn-out sigh streamed from between my lips and I pressed back and tried to word my question a little differently.

The search engine was refusing to give me what I wanted...

I closed my eyes and shivered.

“...Kusunoki-kun?”

Dazai’s voice was quiet, tinged with wonder.

I heard him take a step forward.

“What—”

“I should go,” I mumbled.

And without so much as a backwards glance, I turned around to leave once again.

“Wait.”

A hand closed around my wrist. I looked over my shoulder to see Dazai standing barely one step behind me, his long fingers encircling my wrist and his dark eyes wide.

I could see myself reflected in his eyes and as I slowly rotated on the spot to face him, I thought I saw something in his gaze—something that went beyond mere curiosity. One thin bandage began to unravel from around his neck and as he slowly drew a little bit closer, my breath stilled in my lungs.

I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Talk to me, Kyou.”

He pulled me towards him, the bandage loosening even further. I watched as it sagged downwards and slowly draped itself over the bright green jewel of his fancy bolo tie.

“Please.”

And as I drew closer to the handsome brunette, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Professor Matsuyama once again, the way he’d looked as he gazed down at his best friend’s grave, the image of his tall, dignified form slowly fading from view as he disappeared down the cemetery’s wide cobblestone path.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, my eyes never leaving Dazai’s.

I could just as easily picture him standing in the graveyard among the headstones as I could Professor Matsuyama. Dazai, with his half-bandaged hands tucked into his pockets, his sand-colored trench-coat billowing in the wind as he gazed straight ahead...

“Hey, Dazai...?”

I was just being paranoid, right...? There’s no way that Professor Matsuyama was similar to Dazai in that way as well... right?

“Yes?” Dazai whispered, his voice dry.

His face was so close to mine...

“What is it?”

I wet my lips.

“I—”

“There you are, Dazai!!”

I jumped as Kunikida’s voice suddenly echoed throughout the hallway. Turning towards the doorway, I looked up just in time to see the tall, blonde detective stomping into view, a handful of familiar white and gray extension cords clutched in one shaking fist.

“I don’t even want to know why every spare extension cord in this building is sitting in a pile on your desk,” Kunikida snarled, storming into the darkened room. “All I ask is that you put everything back exactly where you found it and that you apologize to every single person you’ve inconvenienced in your—”

He froze.

“Kusunoki?”

I stiffened as his gray-green eyes traveled from me to Dazai and finally, to the half-bandaged hand still wrapped tightly around my wrist.

His eyes widened and I felt Dazai’s fingers suddenly twitch.

“What...?”

“Kunikida.”

Dazai’s voice was quiet.

He dropped my wrist at once and stepped away.

Kunikida frowned. His blonde brows slowly knitted together.

“Why are you...?”

Without warning, the lights snapped back on and as I blinked several times to try to clear the stars from my eyes, I felt Dazai take another step back and away from me. When I could finally see again...

I realized that Dazai’s grin was once again back on his face.

Fixed in place as if it were a mask.

I stared.

“Kunikiiiida-kun!” Dazai exclaimed, grinning even more broadly than before. “Perfect timing. I was just looking for you!”

He stepped out from around me and began to move towards his partner.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something!” he said, sticking his half-bandaged hands back into his pockets.

Kunikida remained silent.

He was still staring at me.

“Kunikida-san...”

I was suddenly at a loss for words. Guilt flooded into my face.

“I—”

“Kusunoki-kun!”

Spinning on his heel, Dazai turned around and bent down to face me, his grinning visage now a fair distance away from mine.

“I really hate to be rude,” he said, “but could you please leave? I need to talk to my partner in private.”

His grin somehow grew even wider.

“Now.”

“Huh?!” I exclaimed, balking. “Now?!”

“That’s what I said,” Dazai said, finally noticing that the bandage around his neck was coming loose. “I need to have a quick little chit-chat with Kunikiiiida-kun, so if you could please give us a few minutes...”

Bringing his half-bandaged hands up to his neck, he tucked the loose bandage back into place and began ushering me out the door.

“...that would be most appreciated.”

“Wait,” I gasped, trying to dig my heels in so I could resist being pushed out of the room.

But it was no use. I was too short and too light for it to work.

“Dazai-san, you never answered my—”

“Another time, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai insisted, pushing me even further out of the room. “Another time, I promise. Now then, if you could please excuse us...!”

And with that, he placed both half bandaged hands on my back and shoved me into the hall.

“My partner and I need to talk.”

“Hey—!” I yelped.

Stumbling a little as I tried to stop moving forward, I spun back around, towards the entrance of the break room. I was hoping to get one final glimpse of Kunikida’s face before I was forced out for good, but as our eyes happened to meet at last, the tall blonde detective abruptly looked away.

I inhaled sharply.

“...Kunikida-san?”

Before I could figure out what the look in Kunikida’s eyes might mean, Dazai slammed the door shut on my face and I was left staring at a near-solid block of wood.

I suddenly felt cold.

“Kunikida-san...”

“Alright, talk to you later, Kusunoki-kun!” Dazai chirped, waving cheekily at me from the other side of the tiny window near the top of the door. “Good luck with the rest of your case!”

“Dazai—wait!” I cried, rushing forward and seizing the doorknob. “I said wait!!”

But it was too late.

I heard a click as Dazai abruptly locked the break room door from the inside and as I pounded on the door and struggled to turn the doorknob, I heard Dazai’s footsteps slowly receding as he walked further and further into the room.

“Come back!” I yelled, as that familiar head of curly brown hair disappeared from view. “Kunikida-san!! Dazai-san!!”

Furious and confused, I kicked at the door with all my might.

“Damn it!”

“What’s this about, Dazai?” Kunikida suddenly spoke up from the other side of the door.

He sounded tired and only slightly irritated.

“What do you want?”

“Aw, weren’t you listening, Kunikida-kun?” Dazai sighed, his voice shrinking as he walked even deeper into the room. “I said I wanted to talk to you in private!”

“About what?” Kunikida asked, sounding exasperated.

Grumbling and cursing under my breath, I was about to give up and walk away when I heard him speak again, this time his voice much lower than before.

“Is this about Kusunoki, again..?”

Huh?

I stopped rubbing my foot and stared at the door.

Wait. Kunikida and Dazai... were talking about me? And what did he mean “again?”

Glancing up one more time at the tiny break room window, I dropped to a crouch as fast as I could and pressed my ear against the door.

I tried to keep my breathing to a minimum.

“This is the second time this week,” Kunikida mumbled as I strained to pick out his words. “Why are we doing this?”

I slapped my hand over my mouth so I could better hold my breath.

It was already hard enough to hear Kunikida’s deep voice through the thick wood of the door, but when he dropped it even lower so he could speak quietly to Dazai like that, it was nearly impossible to figure out what he was saying.

I pressed my ear more tightly against the door, my heart beating wildly in my chest—

“Huh? Kyou-chan, what are you doing there?”

I squeaked and smacked my forehead against the door.

Clutching my head and groaning in pain, I turned and looked over my shoulder to see a very surprised Dr. Yosano staring at me as she paused halfway down the hall, her black bag clutched tightly in one hand.

“Yosano-sensei!”

I stopped rubbing my forehead at once and scrambled to my feet, taking great care to avoid standing near the window in the door.

“H-hey! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Yosano said slowly, looking from me to the door and back.

She frowned.

“Were you listening in?”

“N-no,” I stuttered, shooting another furtive look at the door. “I was just—”

But as Yosano’s eyebrows slowly rose further up into her thick layer of bangs, I thought I heard the sound of footsteps coming from inside the break room heading towards the door.

Panicked, I took one last look at the break room door and ran.

***

“I see...”

I felt the phone slipping a little out of my hands as I spoke, my shoulders dropping in disappointment as I processed the response.

“Yes, I understand. Again, I’m really sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you so much.”

I hung up my desk phone with a heavy sigh.

Great.

I should’ve guessed the police department wouldn’t be able to fax me another copy of Kei’s suicide note so quickly. It was part of a police report that was decades-old and given how long it had taken the clerk to find it the first time, I shouldn’t be surprised that it would take a while to bring it back out again. The entire document must’ve gone right back into storage the moment I’d left and now that it was almost the end of the day, I’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to get another copy.

I groaned and let my forehead fall onto my desk with a soft thump.

After running into Yosano in the hallway, I’d decided to head back to my desk so I could at least pretend I was getting some work done, even if I was actually distracted by other things. But now that I was here and actually wanted to do some work...

I let out another long, drawn-out sigh and banged my head once against the desk, prompting Atsushi to look over at me in concern.

I couldn’t. Because I’d accidentally spilled tea all over the last lead I had.

Now what was I supposed to do?

Turning my head to the side, I stared at the small pile of cables that still lay on the surface of Dazai’s unoccupied desk.

Neither he nor Kunikida had yet to return from the break room. I hadn’t been back at my desk for that long, but it felt like Yosano had left the office some time ago and the minutes were starting to feel more like hours.

“Is this about Kusunoki, again...?”

I stiffened and sighed.

Dazai had been looking for Kunikida the evening I’d run into him in the hallway, too. Was he looking for his partner so they could talk about me back then, as well?

But why?

What was going on? Why were they talking about me in private, and in such serious voices too? Did this have something to do with Kunikida’s training sessions or mentoring me in general? Or maybe...

I chewed on my lip, staring at the mess of tangled gray cords sitting on Dazai’s desk.

Maybe this had something to do with my crush on Kunikida...

I shook my head.

No, that was crazy. Why would they be talking about something like that? But even as I considered the slim probability that it did, Dazai’s voice echoed back at me from weeks past...

“You want me not to tell anyone that you have a thing for Kunikida-kun, right?”

I could still see that casual smile on his face, hear the hint of amusement in his voice. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his body heat as he drew closer and closer, backing me up against the door of the conference room with every word he spoke.

“Not a problem, Kyou-chan. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, if I do say so myself...”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

He wouldn’t. He promised he wouldn’t.

My teeth sank into my lip and I tasted blood.

Dazai wouldn’t tell Kunikida my secret... would he?

“Um, excuse me...”

I sat up with a sharp snap and looked to my left in time to see a tall girl wearing a delivery uniform standing at my side.

“I have a package here for a... Detective Kusunoki Kyou,” she said, her thick brows knitting together as she glanced down at the package.

“For me?”

She nodded and presented me with an electronic clipboard.

“Yeah. Could you sign here?”

“Who’s it from...?” I asked hesitantly, taking the clipboard from her.

“A professor at the nearby university,” she said, shrugging. “I forget his name but he said he really wanted me to deliver it today, if possible.”

My eyes widened as she readjusted her cap and stared meaningfully at me and the clipboard in my hands.

“I figured I’d just do it since this building was my last stop of the day anyway. So do you think you could...?”

“R-right. Yeah, sure. Thanks for doing this.”

“Not a problem,” she replied, taking back the clipboard. “Have a nice day.”

And as she set the package down on my desk, I heard a hollow “clunk” as it met the wooden surface of my work station.

“Huh?”

Curious, I pulled it towards me and was surprised to find my business card taped to the center of the brown paper wrapping, along with a folded piece of lined notebook paper. I ripped both off of the package and unfolded the note.

“Nomura-kun accidentally left your card behind while he was at my house the other day,” it said, in elegant black script. “I thought I’d send it back to you along with a small thank you, for listening to my story at the cemetery and for keeping my secret.”

I stared at it.

Professor Matsuyama sent me a thank you present? After he’d caught me following him at Nomura’s insistence? Why would he do something like that...?

Setting the note down, I picked up the package and turned it over in my hands. It wasn’t a very large package, nor was it very heavy, and it looked like it had been rather hastily wrapped. The packaging was peeling from the outside in some places and as I picked at one of the pieces of tape holding it together, the brown paper ripped. Tearing the paper away from the rapidly deteriorating corner, I found myself looking at a small shoe box with a taped-down lid.

I shook it and something hollow began to roll around inside.

Well, it wasn’t ticking so it probably wasn’t a bomb...

Curiosity winning out at last, I opened the box and peeked inside.

“Huh?”

I reached in and lifted out a tiny plastic model of a globe on a faux brass stand. It was slightly dusty and the plastic map was yellowed with age but it was well cared for enough that I could still make out the names and borders of each individual country. I placed it on my desk and touched one finger against the map, spinning it on its axis. A thin layer of dust scattered onto my desk, coating the just-cleaned surface in a layer of pale yellowish-gray and as the globe spun to a stop at last, a streak of red on its surface caught my eye.

It was a single dotted line, made with a Sharpie or something similar, marking a route between Japan and England. When I looked more closely at the two ends of the line, I noticed a tiny red star drawn at the location where Yokohama should be and another one drawn right on the dot marked as London.

“Is that from a client?” Atsushi asked, glancing up across empty desks as Kyouka stood a little to get a better look at it.

“Sorta...” I mumbled, scratching my head. “It’s actually from the guy I’m supposed to be investigating. But why would he give me this...?”

“Did he leave a note?” Kyouka asked, her blue eyes focused on the globe.

It looked a little like she wanted to spin it, too...

“Yeah, he did. He said it was a thank you present, for listening to him talk that day. But I still don’t get why he would give me something like this.”

I picked up the globe and reexamined it.

It didn’t look very expensive, but clearly in a decent enough condition that it was probably an item with more sentimental than monetary value.

Wait a minute...

I swiveled it from one side to another, staring at the red line between Yokohama and London. It wasn’t a completely straight line. It was curved around the map in the same way that a flight path would be. And if I looked a little more closely at the star near Yokohama, there was a very tiny straight line that went from Yokohama to Tokyo.

My eyes widened.

In his suicide note, Kei had mentioned parting ways at the airport. Did Kei or Shin have plans to visit London before tragedy intervened?

I got to my feet and ran for the coat rack with my messenger bag on it.

“Eh? Kusunoki-san?” Atsushi called, swiveling around to look at me, along with Kyouka. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the university,” I explained, stuffing the globe into my bag as best I could. I buckled down the top of the bag and smushed it in further.

“I need to ask the professor some questions about this.”

***

Glancing at my phone one more time, I stuffed it back into my coat pocket and checked my surroundings to make sure I was going the right way.

Not wanting to lose my way like last time, I’d made sure to download a map of the campus while I was on the train earlier so I could get to the history department as quickly as possible. I had definitely been going the right way the first time I was here but without any people around to ask for directions, I probably would’ve ended up on the other side of campus before figuring out where I should actually be.

I could feel the globe smacking hollowly against the inside of my messenger bag as I moved past the tree-lined path, I found myself standing in the central clearing Natsuki had mentioned before. On my immediate right was a collection of buildings, neat and rectangular in shape, with rows of green-tinted glass windows facing the clearing and gleaming in the sun. Further ahead were even more buildings, towering over the trees in the far distance.

The commute hadn’t taken that long, but the sun was hanging lower in the sky than it had before and students and faculty alike were beginning to trickle out of the buildings and head out. I tucked my hands into my pockets as I walked through the crowd but I kept my head up and my eyes straight ahead, searching for the building Professor Matusyama was working in.

By the time I found it, the crowd had pretty much dispersed and I found myself walking into a quiet, tidy building that smelled of books and coffee. I made my way to the elevator and pushed the button.

“Excuse me, Miss,” a man called out to me from behind his desk. “I’m sorry but office hours have ended already. If you’re looking for one of the professors upstairs, you’re gonna have to send an email instead.”

“Oh, uh that’s okay,” I said quickly, “it’ll just be a minute. I promised to help Professor Matsuyama with something after hours and—”

“Oh, you’re one of Matsuyama’s students?” the man asked, his eyes instantly widening in surprise. “Oh geez, I hope you’re not here to dispute a grade or something because you’re gonna have a tough time doing that now that it’s after the fifth.”

I blinked at him.

“Huh?”

“I guess it’s not surprising the students didn’t get the email,” the man mumbled, more to himself than to me. He scratched his head. “But you’d think he’d at least tell his class—”

“Er, I’m sorry,” I interrupted, prompting the man to look back up at me, “but I’m not actually here to dispute a grade. I just need to talk to him for a second. Is he...”

I glanced at the elevator as it pinged, signaling its arrival.

“Is he not upstairs right now?”

“Kid,” the man stated, looking perplexed, “there’s no one on that floor any more. Didn’t you hear?”

I swallowed, an uneasy feeling twisting in my gut.

“Hear what...?”

“The whole department’s been downsized,” the man said, as the elevator doors opened on my right. “Professor Matsuyama was let go just this morning.”

S1 ED 1

#dazai x oc #kunikida x oc #bsd #fanfiction

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sticks-and-stone · 4 years

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Potts Preserve

September 21, 2019 - September 22, 2019

This was my first time camping since February when I went with my roommate and the dog we had at the time. Before that it was just camping with my father as a kid or drunk with my friends in high school (trips I almost don’t remember at all). So this trip was a pretty big deal with very few expectations or preparedness. I wanted to find a hobby that would not cost much, but would require significant planning and time out of my life before, during, and after. So camping seemed like a good fit. I decided to start planning monthly trips. So this was the first one!

When I first decided to go on this trip, I had next to no supplies. I wanted to go with whatever I had or could improvise as a way to get started on a list of things I wanted to add to my kit. What better way to figure out what I needed than to realize it in the moment!

This trip was only going to be a quick overnight so that in the event that we realized we had too little, we wouldn’t be stuck out there for days. I found a site that was owned by the Southwest Florida Water Management District and was free to use with a reservation. So I booked the site and called up an old friend, Jenna. Jenna and I did a lot of drunk camping together in high school and she had a foundation of camping with her own father as a child, so I knew she would be right for the job. She and I had also gone a long period of time without hanging out, so it was a good opportunity for us to catch up!

When we began planning this trip, I had a tent, and some other small stuff, but not a whole lot of anything else. We borrowed a cooler from my roommate, a chair from my parents, and just bought beer on our way out to the campsite.

I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before getting up midmorning on Saturday to meet Jenna and go, but I ended up staying up late. Like a child before her first trip to Disney World, I was restless, excited, and hyperactive. When I woke up (too early) the next day, all that excitement was squashed when I realized I had started my period. I was worried this would happen, but I was hoping my Day One would be on Sunday, but alas, I was going to have to go camping on my period. And not just any camping trip, a camping trip that I wasn’t totally sure I was prepared for. As it turned out, the portable toilets were close and clean enough for me. YAY!

Jenna showed up exactly on time - I really have to give her props for that. She helped me load up the car and then we took off! We stopped at my parents' house (they were out of town) for a little firewood and one of their camping chairs (Jenna did not have one) and also at a gas station for beer and snacks. Then we were on the road for real; it was about midday.

The drive down was quicker and easier than we expected. After not seeing each other for a few years, we had PLENTY to talk about and catch up on. She told me about all of her drama, I told her about all of mine. It was lovely. We arrived at the campground without getting lost or even a little turned around at all. There were about 4 other groups there already set up and as it was late afternoon on a Saturday, everyone seemed to be pretty settled in.

We found our spot. Unlike the other spots that people had set up around us, we did not have a fire pit, a picnic table, or a grill. Everyone else seemed to have all three. We didn’t mind and we found a nice flat place to lay our tent out. We found out later that what we chose was not a spot at all and that we were not even supposed to be back there.

We got the tent set up and I began to work on the air pump that I had borrowed from my roommate. I needed to strip the wire so that I could split it and plug it into the car battery that dad gave me to run the fan. We had no other form of electricity and no other way to pump the air mattresses up. I broke it. I ended up strippping the wires too much and the whole contraption became non-functional. We were only there for one night, though, and what’s sleeping on the ground other than the authenticity of a camping trip?

From the time of arrival until just before dusk (about 3 hours) we thought it would be nice to open up the tent to allow the breeze and light to enter it. Well, neither did and what did enter our tent was about 10,000 love bugs. So I went in there with our one bottle of bug spray and closed myself in. I held my breath and sprayed the shit out of the aerosol canister until I was sure everyone was dead and I could not hold my breath any longer.

To give the homemade bug bomb a chance to work, we decided to explore the area and go on a hike. We made it about a mile away from camp and it started raining. The trail seemed to come to a dead end so we just turned around and went back. I have a terrible sense of direction and would have honestly gotten completely lost if it hadn’t been for Jenna to guide us.

We got back to camp after our hike and I checked on our tent - no more living love bugs, but piles of dead ones on the ground. It was gross. I got Jenna and the broom and we got rid of as many of the dead bodies as we could. We would shake the rest out the next day when we packed up to leave.

We sat around the fire and played the guitar for a bit when suddenly I realized that we were going to get bored. We had been drinking beer since we arrived and we'd been going through it pretty fast. I never really thought about how to pass the time.

I went walking around looking for firewood. I had nothing to chop it with or nothing to cut the large limbs, but I could use leverage and my body weight for most of the work I needed to do.

The entire time we were there, I made sure to keep a list of all the things I thought about having that we didn’t have. The first being string, the next, an air pump that plugged into the car. Then a sponge. I started to realize that we had enough to survive in the woods, but we did not have enough to THRIVE. This trip was rough supplies-wise, but we made do. Thankfully we brought enough beer to ward off TOO much boredom.

As the sun went down and the alcohol made its way further into our bloodstreams, we decided we were hungry and wanted to eat the food I had brought for us. What I had brought was really simple. It was two pre-made PB&J sandwiches, pre-made mac and cheese, and PB&J crackers.

Dinner was a disaster. The sandwiches I made got soggy from the ice melting and the container failing to do its job in the cooler. The mac and cheese was attempted cold, but then it was decided that we would put it in the pot in the fire and see if we could heat it up. That actually worked out pretty well - but was all we had. Luckily, Jenna came armed with hummus and crackers and had bought some beef jerky at the gas station.

We went to sleep soon after dinner and made sure we got nice and drunk first because we had forgotten that we were sleeping on the ground that night. After all the alcohol, I was ready to crash. My body temp was high though so I put on the fan and slept on top of my blankets.

About halfway through the night I was woken up by the feeling of my bones turning to ice and cracking. I was violently shivering in my bed and wasn’t sure my toes were still attached to my body. I had to pee too. So I stood up clumsily in our little tent and put on my shoes. I looked over and Jenna was fast asleep but now wearing more clothes than she went to bed in - I guess she woke up the same way I did.

I walked to the bathroom and peed. I took comfort in the smelly plastic bin as it seemed to have held on to the day’s heat and trapped it inside. I was suddenly disgusted with myself for enjoying a port a potty, so I walked back to the tent.

When I got inside I turned off the fan. I looked through my suitcase - nothing but more short sleeved shirts and shorts. I took my shoes off but left my socks on and covered them with a second pair. I took the folded king-sized sheet off of my deflated twin size mattress and used that as extra cover in addition to the small throw blanket I had. I was able to make it a few more hours like that until the urge to pee woke me up again.

This time, it seemed warmer outside the tent so I took my double pair of socks off and slipped on flip flops. Jenna was still asleep so I stumbled out of the tent toward the bathroom. I handled my business and came back to the tent - this time, no lingering in the port-a-potty for warmth.

As I approached the site, I saw Jenna moving around outside the tent with her flashlight. I assumed she was doing the same thing I was - taking a midnight pee - but as I got closer I could see that she was in fact setting up the fire. As I got close enough I asked if she was trying to warm up so she could sleep, and she looked at me confused and said “No, this is today’s fire, it’s 6:30”. I was shocked and confused, but proud that we had made it to morning.

We had no breakfast. So we drank more beer. We were out of water, so I decided it was time to leave. We packed up quickly and cleaned the tent and tarps and then we were on our way out.

As we tried to exit the gate, our code wouldn’t work and we had to wait for a forest cop to show up and let us out. We probably waited an hour or so, but when he finally did arrive, he was super nice and as it turns out, from Jacksonville! We chatted with him for a while until a car pulled up behind us. We were finally on our way home!

The ride home was a bit different than the ride there. We double and triple checked my list and talked about all of the things we HAD to get for next time, which things I already had at home, and which things needed to be purchased. Overall the trip was fine, we decided, but we could do WAY better.

Observations:

SO MANY LOVE BUGS - they literally covered everything

We needed to pack the car more strategically - we had to pull everything out to get to the tent and table that we needed to set up first

We needed rope/string

More stakes for the tarp and the tent would not be a bad idea

A table or some platform to unpack on would be handy

Our air pump broke - we needed one that plugged into the car.

It's super important to keep the tent closed completely.

We needed a shovel to dig out the fire pit

We needed more lights around the site - the fire was not enough

Citronella candles would not be a bad idea either

Should have brought extra bug spray

We didn’t have much to do beyond sitting and drinking beer. We vowed to bring at least some books and crafts for next time. I want to learn to whittle.

I needed to stay more organized with the supplies as we unpacked. Things got messy.

Get Outside,

Stone.

#camping #outdoors #tent camping #tent #adventure #Potts Preserve #SWFWMD #Florida

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raendown · 4 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4747 Chapter: 37/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 37

“I’m bored.”

Tobirama lifted his gaze from the book he’d been lost in for the past – actually he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He found his husband staring back at him with a baleful glare and crossed arms, hunched deeply in to the opposite end of the couch and knees bent to dig his toes in between the cushions they both sat on, thick socks disappearing under the wrappings around his calves.

“Are you sure you’re not just cold?”

“Of course I’m cold! Stupid weather taking a stupid dip. If it gets any colder it won’t need to snow because the air will just freeze on its own!”

Rather than point out the ridiculousness of that statement from a scientific viewpoint Tobirama set his book aside with deliberate movements and reached down between them to free his husband’s feet. Ignoring all protests he drew them in to his lap and curled both of his hands around the chilly toes he could feel even through such thick woolen cloth.

“If you moved around a bit instead of sitting still I’m sure you’d feel warmer,” he suggested. Madara turned his head aside to stick his nose in the air.

“Yeah, well, you’re over here. So.”

“So?”

“So shut up! Maybe I don’t want to move around!”

Tobirama smiled and closed his hands a little tighter when he felt the toes in his grasp wriggling a little. Most people probably thought him to have a cooler body temperature, what with his affinity for water, but he’d found over the years that he weathered the cold much better than most perhaps because of that. Sharing a bit of his body heat wasn’t a massive hardship really. And if it gave Madara a reason to stay here at his side that was all the better.

Not, apparently, that the man needed any more excuses. He seemed prepared to hang around even without thinking of any sort of good reason to and Tobirama was pretty okay with that.

“Would you perhaps like to do something together?” He was polite enough not to laugh when Madara perked up, tensing in that way that said he’d been offered exactly what he wanted but wasn’t ready to admit he wanted it in the first place.

“It would have to be something fun. And something that would actually keep us warm, not just strolling around the marketplace. Or drinking. Hashirama's suggestion is always drinking.”

“Yes and have I recently expressed my gratitude that you deny him?” Tobirama shuddered. One drunken escapade per year was plenty for him. He was the last person who would ever think to tell someone else what they were allowed to do with their body and their time but the thought of Madara crawling in to their bed smelling of a brewery the way he knew he must have the night he did the same, it was not a pleasant one. He found himself awash with gratitude all over again that Madara had taken care of him so well the next day.

Grumbling indistinctly under his breath, Madara took his feet back so he could sit up properly and gaze out the window. “I don’t really want to go outside,” he said, “but I would if we could spar. That’d certainly keep us moving around enough to stay warm – and we can always dress in layers.”

“If we have a proper spar with chakra you’ll be warm from the first jutsu. Or have you forgotten your own element?”

For a moment Tobirama smirked thinking the dumbfounded expression on the other’s face was a reaction to his comment. It took another look for him to see the slowly building light in the dark eyes he loved so much. That was a look he knew well, though it didn’t always spell good news for everyone around them and sometimes it meant he needed to duck and cover right quick.

“We’re married,” Madara blurted and Tobirama paused.

“Yes,” he agreed slowly. “We are.”

“So you’re an Uchiha now.”

“Mn, that’s what you tell me.” The Uchiwa fan he carried between his shoulders never felt so light as the moments when he was reminded of the easy acceptance between them now.

Leaning over to bump their shoulders together, Madara gave him a warning look before going on. “Come on, I’ve just decided how we’re going to stay warm without getting bored.”

“Oh you’ve decided, have you?”

“I have.”

“Well thank you, your highness, for making that executive decision on my behalf.”

Tobirama was already laughing before Madara glared at him and he figured he deserved the hands that bunched in his sleeves and pulled roughly on them, dragging him to his feet.

“You offered!” Madara insisted and he decided to let his husband win this one.

Since apparently he had annoyed his way out of getting to know where they were going he opted to follow Madara's lead and not add any extra layers than a jacket to ward off the chill as they marched out the door. He thought he had a pretty good idea considering which direction they were headed but Hashirama had been after him lately with the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ concept so he decided to wait before making any accusations.

Ten minutes later he smirked to know that his guess was right as they arrived at one of the exclusive Uchiha training grounds, the same one where he so often trained with Kagami. Since Madara usually preferred to use the training grounds outside the village where he and Hashirama could cause as much destruction as they wanted without terrifying the civilians Tobirama thought maybe he would have the advantage here, familiar as he was with the terrain and its uses. Between them only he would know about the softer dirt in the eastern quarter of the field and the badger holes dug in to the north sitting empty and ready to trip up unsuspecting people.

“Right, so, I know you think we’re going to spar,” Madara began and Tobirama blinked at him. Not such a good guess after all. “I’ve got something, uh, different in mind. You can use fire release.”

“I can use all five elemental releases,” Tobirama interrupted him.

“Yes we all know that, you big show off, that wasn’t my point. I was thinking…”

Tobirama valiantly held off on making some kind of distasteful joke. Clearly there was something going on in the other man’s head that he wouldn’t be able to guess at but what he could tell for sure was that it seemed oddly important and so he held his silence, waiting patiently.

“I want to teach you the Grand Fireball Jutsu.”

“What?” His jaw didn’t quite drop but it was a close call. “Isn’t that a protected clan jutsu?”

“Yes and you are a part of this clan so it’s only right that you know it.” Madara continued on despite the deep red color rising in his cheeks, ignoring the matching heat spreading over Tobirama’s entire face. “As an Uchiha you have a right to all of our clan secrets and that includes knowing our signature jutsu. Honestly I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to get around to teaching you. If you…want to learn?”

“I would be honored,” Tobirama told him with complete sincerity.

Those were the only words he had in him but they were enough. Nothing could possibly have expressed how touched he was by this gesture. With the amount of times Izuna had thrown the matter in his face or the even more bountiful number of times Madara had assured him on it Tobirama had never felt so much like he belonged, so accepted. He met his husband’s warm gaze and he thought to himself, not for the first time, that this was truly where he was meant to be.

After ages spent doing nothing but staring deeply in to each other’s eyes Madara bit his lip and turned away, freeing Tobirama from having to make a bad attempt at expressing what he was feeling. His husband understood. They both knew each other very well by now. Tobirama just hoped that Madara understood all the nuances of how he felt, more than just the vague knowledge that he was grateful but also that he had never been more in love. Nothing Madara could have done would ever have shown him quite so perfectly that he was accepted here, was truly a member of the family, the clan, the people that he had chosen as his own as surely as he had been thrust upon them unwittingly. From the moment he first realized his own burgeoning feelings there had lingered some unshakable doubts and here at last was his clarity.

He may have been born an heir of the Senju but on the day he married he became an Uchiha. There were no regrets.

Learning a new jutsu was so much less difficult for him than it was for his student but there was still a learning curve with teaching his chakra to mold in to brand new shapes. As they ran through the string of hang signs over and over to get his hands used to the pattern Madara told him that learning this way was tradition for all children, use of the Sharingan expressly forbidden. For any child with the nature to mold fire chakra performing the Grand Fireball Jutsu for the first time was considered their first steps towards adulthood. He refrained again from making any bad jokes about the legitimacy of his own manhood now.

Since he was an adult with years more experience and a dozen more jutsu in his arsenal than the average child Tobirama was able to create at least a mildly impressive Grand Fireball by the time the sun began its descent in the sky. He would need quite a lot more practice before he could make one anywhere close to Madara's and honestly doubted he would ever be able to achieve quite that size. Madara had the advantage of fire being his first nature whereas Tobirama’s was water, fire a hard earned skill that would never come quite as easily.

“Would it be cheesy to tell you that you look dashing with firelight on your skin?” Madara asked as the burn of that first massive Grand Fireball faded from the air, the final product after hours of hard work. He gave an unrepentant grin when Tobirama rolled his eyes in response.

“Yes. It would.”

“Right, then I won’t say it.”

“I’m not sure if I love you more for your terrible sense of humor or if I’m going to make removing it my next science experiment.” Tobirama tapped at his chin with exaggerated thought.

His partner wasn’t fooled in the slightest. To his absolute mortification Madara sidled up close and tugged on the front of his shirt, asking him to bend down for a kiss, even seeming to enjoy it when the tips of his ears flushed a light pink and his eyes darted from side to side like he expected a horde of gasping onlookers to appear from the tree line.

“Out here?” He asked dubiously. Madara tugged a little more insistently.

“Kiss me, damn it. I just showed you a very lovely gesture and now you’re being mean to me.”

He did sort of have a point there so Tobirama bent and allowed Madara to drag him in to a kiss fiery enough that he began to worry all over again about how public these grounds were – in the back of his mind, of course, since most of his attention was immediately distracted by the feel of those gorgeous lips against his own.

Naturally the moment he stopped paying lots of attention to the world around them that was when the world decided to intrude itself upon their solitude in the form of two familiar faces. One of them was more than welcome, or would be as soon as she quit making wolf whistles across the field; Susumu hadn’t a drop of shame in her entire body. The other face Tobirama could have lived without. Likely his husband would be happy to see Izuna there, the two most precious and beloved members of his family together, but Tobirama could only think that having his brother-in-law appear had ruined the calm and happy atmosphere they’d been enjoying all afternoon. He was smart enough to keep that to himself as well though.

“Getting in a little exercise, are we?” Susumu waggled her eyebrows until Madara shoved her, Izuna turning his head to mime gagging. “What are the two of you scrumptious little bits getting up to then, eh?” Her curiosity only increased when they shared a look. Madara waved him on so Tobirama cleared his throat to bring all eyes to himself.

“We were practicing the Grand Fireball Jutsu,” he revealed softly.

“No shit? Well it’s about time!”

At her side, Izuna clearly did not share that opinion. His face pinched immediately but, to his credit, he managed to keep his mouth shut, a massive step up from all the months of deliberate antagonism. Tobirama almost thought he deserved a reward for such good behavior but bringing attention to it in any way was likely to toss them right back to where they started.

“So how did it go then?” Susumu demanded, as timely with her distractions as ever. Tobirama smiled for her.

“Quite well,” he said. “I’m not quite able to imitate what Madara can do but I imagine that few can.”

“What he means to say is that he made incredible progress in one day and we should all be very impressed.” Madara interrupted, jabbing him with one elbow.

“I know I am. Good for you, muffin, good for you!”

Tobirama hummed noncommittally, not sure what to do with so much praise. It was different when it was Hashirama. His brother was naturally dramatic at all times and he’d stopped taking the man seriously a long time ago but with others he never quite knew what to say. Much easier was attempting to push the focus off of himself by asking what such an unlikely pair as Susumu and Izuna were doing out here in the middle of the day.

“What else would we be doing out here on a training field?” Izuna grumbled, low enough Tobirama didn’t think anyone else heard him.

“Oh, you know me. I get bored. This one was moping around the tower so I told him to put all that boring shit down for the day and pulled him out to work off a bit of steam with me. With you two here maybe we could make things a little more interesting?”

A terrible swooping feeling nearly ripped Tobirama’s stomach right out through his throat but the gods had mercy on him in the form of Madara shaking his head and declaring them already tired enough after their own training. If the four of them were to pair off for a spar he knew exactly who he would be matched against and fighting Izuna in any way was precisely the opposite of what he wanted. That was just one more thing that would have taken them right back to the start.

Listening while the three of them started gossiping and trading juicy tidbits about things happening around the Uchiha compound, small clan dramas he had no interest in, Tobirama eventually zoned out of what they were saying to focus on observing instead. He loved seeing Madara like this, so relaxed and happy as he chatted without thinking about his reputation or trying to impress anyone. And he was growing fonder and fonder of Susumu every time they met. Either of them could have easily drawn his eye and yet it was to Izuna that he looked, Izuna whose body language both yearned for his brother and held back at the same time, who leaned in to everything his most precious person said but kept his arms folded like an unconscious barrier between them.

Someone, it seemed, had been doing a lot of thinking. Not once since arriving had he made any snarky comments besides pretending to gag, though that could easily be attributed to brotherly teasing, and in fact he had mostly avoided even looking in Tobirama’s direction almost as though he wished to avoid the temptation to start a fight. The idea of rewarding good behavior suddenly didn’t seem like such a terrible idea after all.

Even better, Tobirama knew just how to do that without making it seem like he was trying to make fun of his brother-in-law. All he needed was the right moment and he didn’t even have to wait too long for that. The stars weren’t even out yet but they were all aligning just for him. Just as Madara began excusing them to go back home and let the other two have the field he laid a hand on his husband’s arm and tilted his head down in apology for the interruption. Then he looked to his brother-in-law.

“I’m glad we ran in to each other,” he murmured to the man’s obvious surprise. “I have something that I wished to give you.”

“Well that’s suspicious.” Izuna jerked when Susumu reached up to punch him in the arm, twisting his mouth in to a wry expression while he rubbed the sore spot but not taking his words back.

“Unexpected, I’m sure. He is not wrong to say so, Susumu-san, there’s no need for violence.”

“He could try being a little more polite,” she snapped back.

Tobirama very carefully did not smile or laugh. “He may react in whichever way he feels. And to that note, he is not in any way obligated to accept my offer; I would appreciate it if you do not disparage him no matter how he chooses.”

If the group of them hadn’t been looking at him strangely before then they were now. Madara eyed him from the side with a dubious expression while Susumu gave him a look that blatantly questioned whether he might have contracted some sort of fever. He understood their concerns, though, so it was easy enough to ignore them and concentrate on Izuna who had subtly dropped his weight to the balls of his feet, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice in case this was all a trick.

“Go on then,” he demanded. “What do you want?” He watched intently as Tobirama brought one of his hands to the opposite arm and pressed his thumb in to the seal inked there along his wrist, a seal that their other two companions had only seen him use once.

“This is not a gift for any specific occasion or with any obligation. It is also not a gift given lightly.” With a brief flash the Raijin no Ken appeared between his hands from where he kept it stored in the seal on his arm. “This sword has been a Senju heirloom since their clan head won it from ours so many generations back that many have forgotten where it originated from. As our clan’s most skilled warrior with a lightning nature I wish for you to be the new bearer of Raijin no Ken, that it be returned to the place it truly belongs.”

It was hard to decide which part of that had shocked everyone the most. That he was willing to give up his most powerful weapon maybe. Perhaps that he would give it to Izuna specifically. Or maybe, for Izuna, it was that he referred to the Uchiha as ‘our’ clan, including himself in their number so naturally as though he belonged here as much as the sword and all of them, passed through generations of Senju only to come home to the Uchiha where he was meant to be.

Silence reigned while Izuna visibly struggled with how to react. Both Madara and Susumu were good enough to keep their mouths shut despite how they were obviously bursting at the seams with their own opinions and for that Tobirama was grateful. He coached himself to patience as well, carefully observing the way Izuna’s weight rocked back and forth like he wanted to reach for what had been offered but held himself back for reasons known only to him. The fingers of his left hand twitched. His brows furrowed and relaxed so many times they seemed to dance across the top of his face until finally he looked away and for a moment Tobirama felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. Disappointment rippled through him.

Then Izuna took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and turned to meet his eyes with a determined set to his jaw.

“You’re not going to regret it in a month and ask for it back?”

“No. The blade is yours if you will take it from me.” A significant caveat and they both understood that. The meaning of the gift would be changed entirely if anyone else were to offer it; Izuna had to accept that the blade came from Tobirama’s hands if he accepted it at all.

“And you’re not trying to bribe anything out of me either.”

Tobirama didn’t bother gracing that with a response. It sounded more like a statement than a question but even if it was a true worry it wasn’t worth soothing. He had nothing to gain with bribery and would never lower himself to such tactics when it came to making peace with his husband’s family. Another moment of silence passed before finally Izuna reached out with both palms turned up to receive the sword.

“I accept your gift and will treat it with the honor it deserves,” he intoned, snapping a quick glare over at his brother when Madara blew out an explosive breath of relief.

“May it serve you well.” Tobirama let his fingers tighten around the handle of a blade he had cared for and loved since he was first allowed to bear it as his own. Then he gently cradled the weapon across Izuna’s palms and released it in to the care of another who, though he loathed to admit it, could make use of such a legendary weapon much better than him. Seeing the Raijin no Ken once again in the hands of one who had truly mastered lightning would be a wonder, if nothing else.

As he handed it over Tobirama wondered, for a moment, just how angry the Senju elders would be when they found out he had given one of their most prized heirlooms away. Then he serenely dismissed the thought. He was a member of the Uchiha clan himself now so he could hardly be faulted for passing the blade along his own line.

Reverently and with awe poorly hidden in his eyes Izuna clasped the handle of his new weapon and raised it up, infusing just enough chakra for the blade to burst in to life the way it was meant to, a strike of lightning contained in human hands. The light of it against his skin made him look sallow but the excitement on his face almost made Izuna handsome. Almost. Tobirama bit his lip and peeked sideways. He would always prefer the older brother in every way.

“What do you say?” Susumu asked, her elbow uncharacteristically gentle when she nudged it in to her companion’s side.

“Thank you,” Izuna breathed. “It’s…a good gift.”

“A worthy gift,” Tobirama corrected him.

Their eyes met once more and he saw the battle in the other man’s gaze but it was a softer look than he’d ever seen directed at him and the battle was, at long last, over in only a few heartbeats of silence. He watched Izuna capitulate right before him and, strangely, felt none of the triumph he might have expected. They might never come to enjoy each other’s company but they would both be a part of Madara's life for the rest of their own and it seemed as though the gravity of that was finally getting through Izuna’s thick head. As Susumu had advised one brother in the earlier stages of this marriage, so too had the younger brother finally come to realize: they may not have chosen the connection between them but there was little point in making themselves extra miserable by fighting it so strongly.

“Want to try it out properly?” Madara asked with eagerness in his gaze. Izuna returned that look all too easily and the two of them darted a good enough distance away that there was space for Madara to take up the blade Izuna had brought with him so his brother could test out this new one.

“That was very well done,” Susumu murmured once they were out of earshot. When Tobirama looked down she was looking back up at him with knowing approval.

“I received some very helpful advice on the timing of it,” he acknowledged.

She smiled and patted him on the arm, gently for once. “Whether I’ve said it before or not this feels like a good day to say it again. Welcome to the family, kiddo. You’re doing great.”

“Am I?”

“The way you two started was foreign to me - to all of us - but even an old crust like myself is allowed to have a change of heart sometimes. After watching your relationship grow I can’t imagine anyone else by his side. You’re good for him; and I think he’s good for you too.”

Both of them turned their gazes away to watch their loved ones making a spectacle of themselves, hooting and hollering with joy as lightning sparked around them unheeding, and though Tobirama said nothing in return he knew that he didn’t have to. Instead of words he very slowly lifted one hand to rest it on Susumu’s shoulder, holding tension in his own until several seconds had passed with no reaction from her. She really had gotten to know him well, enough to know exactly what such a gesture would mean from him and, thankfully, how embarrassing he would find it for her to point it out.

“Should we rein them in before they destroy this whole field?” He asked eventually, eyeing the long scores of burnt grass adding themselves to the damage he’d already done himself during training.

“Oh let them play for a bit,” his companion tutted. “They’re having fun.”

“Their fun runs the risk of burning down the whole village if it spreads too far.”

“Killjoy.”

Tobirama looked down at her again with a mild expression. “My apologies for protecting the people of this village from two idiots with no restraint.”

He was glad to hear her laugh but even more glad when she moved forward to put an end to the play they were watching. Partly because he was worried about them getting a little too out of control as he’d said but also partly because he wanted to take his husband home and enjoy the rest of their day together. After such a peaceful start he hadn’t expected the last few hours to be riddled with so many emotions and he was ready for evening to bring back the calm.

Seeing Madara so filled with joyful energy was oddly reminiscent of the way he looked after a good spar with Hashirama, the ones where they didn’t run themselves in to exhaustion, and Tobirama decided he was glad to see the man so happy. Positive interactions between him and his brother had been few and far between over the past year.

“I guess they want to spar now,” his husband said as he came back across the field. “Ready to go home?”

“Mm, very. I believe a nice bath is in order and then perhaps something to eat. After all that exercise I am famished.” Tobirama put a hand to his belly, feeling more than hearing the empty gurgle it made.

“That sounds good, actually.”

It really did. Tobirama was in such a good mood he didn’t even spare a single thought when Madara wove their hands together for the walk home. Why should he? He was proud to have this man as his husband and if he wanted to show that pride off a little bit then he should be able to, especially when most of the people who would see them were members of their own clan.

A clan that Tobirama was proud to call his own.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #izuna #susumu #fanfiction

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kryptored · 5 years

Text

Cherry, cherry

For Lukanette February 2020. Links of their clothes will be on their names as or before I describe them.

DAYS: 6 (cherry), 15 (satisfied), 23 (gasping for air)

Guess who’s baaaaaack! Just gonna... leave this here. Sorry if I still have inconsistent verb tenses, and no - I’ve never been kissed to know just how accurate I might be 🙈.

The sun was dedicatedly giving their heads a golden crown of sunlight, but only if they were brave enough to venture out of the shade. There wasn’t much wind other than the occasional gust blowing through their hair, but it was still not enough to cool them off. The dark-haired couple have spread themselves out on two separate lounge chairs at the beach, one in blue and the other red. Both teens are dressed up in their swimming attire, the lack of covered skin a reprieve from the heat of the summer. Marinette is in her one-piece scalloped swimsuit of teal colour with floral patterns, while Luka is in his black boardshorts with a red drawcord.

“Lukaaaaaaa…” said Marinette, “it’s so hoooooooot.” She fans herself with one hand while the other busies itself with grabbing onto said young man beside her.

“Hmmm… it’s summer so, it’s supposed to be hot.” Luka replies, his eyes closed in an attempt to block out the sun. Marinette had provided him with his own pair of sunglasses, but he had refused. 10 minutes into that decision, and he is close to concluding that he may have made a mistake. It appears that the sun had no plans on hiding behind the clouds any time soon, shade or no.

Marinette, on the other hand, was wise enough to wear hers the minute her feet touched the sand. She was all too happy to lie down on the lounge chair, even if it meant risking sunburn. It took her boyfriend a good five minutes to fully convince her that sunscreen was mandatory, even if they had already set up the beach umbrella that was sort of protecting them from the sun. Global warming is never anyone’s aesthetic.

Her hand finds his, interlocking and swaying them a little. She squeezes his hand, and he retaliates in the same manner. Luka’s eyes remain closed, but a quick glance tells Marinette that the crinkling at the side of his eyes are all she needs to know that he’s enjoying it.

“I’m thirsty, can you hand me a bottle please?” she asks. His eyes open, blinking to adjust to the brightness outside of the confines of his eyelids, and reaches to the open cooler to his right with his free hand. He rummages for a few seconds before successfully pulling out a cold bottle of water. After making sure he has a tight enough grip on the drink, he quickly offers it to her. She lets out a squeal of indignation, taken by surprise by the sudden spray of cold droplets on her exposed skin.

“LukaaaaAAaaaAA!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, Sweets.”

She pouts without saying another word, and he chuckles as she drinks her water while she gives him a glare (not that he could see it anyway, but a glare was a glare and he knew). Marinette quenches her thirst with a couple of gulps, offering the still open bottle to Luka. He drinks his own share and puts the bottle back in the cooler with only half of its content remaining. Marinette raises her sunglasses to her head, and she takes a good look of their surrounding without removing her hand from Luka’s grip.

“Where do you think they are?”

“I’m sure those two will be back any second now.” As if summoned by her brother’s words, Juleka appears behind them with Rose beside her. The taller girl is wearing a purple high-neck halter one-piece swimsuit. Her partner is in a pastel pink two-piece with tiny heart prints, the top resembling a tube with thin strings holding it while the bottom has a novel tie resting on her waist. Both are holding onto a large banana split boat filled with sliced bananas, a generous number of ice cream scoops, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, a shower of sprinkles, and topped with bright red cherries.

“We’re back!” Rose exclaims, happily handing out the boat in her hands to Marinette’s eagerly awaiting ones, letting go of her boyfriend’s hand. She points to the small spoons planted on either side of the boat for her friends to see and proceeds to take a spoonful of strawberry ice cream from Juleka’s boat.

“What took you so long?” Luka asks as his eyes meets his sister’s.

“The line was kind of long.” She replies, handing out the boat to her girlfriend so she could tie her hair in a high ponytail. She looked to be struggling and Marinette decided to help her out.

“Oh, here!” Marinette hands out the boat to Luka, stands up, and takes the hair-tie from her friend. Her tongue sticks out as she concentrates on her tying up Juleka’s thick hair, nodding in acceptance as she takes in the result. “There, feel any better?”

“Yeah. I should’ve tied it before while we were in line. Thanks, Mari.” Juleka gives her a small smile before approaching Rose who was happily devouring her half of the split (hehehe).

“Anytime, Jules.” Marinette settles back onto her chair, taking hold of her spoon once more as she eats the banana split in satisfaction. Scoop after scoop, she relishes at the sweetness and coolness of the dessert that was mostly melting away the more it stayed under the influence of the summer heat. Luka, on the other hand, took his sweet time (hurhur) snacking on his fair share. But if there was one thing he couldn’t wait to get to, it was those red and plump cherries perched on top of the softening scoops of ice cream. Its glossy skin shone as if the sun was reflecting off of it, their stems curved at just the right angle. There were no weird bruises around it, nor any sunken surface. Was it possible to get the most perfect cherries? Apparently so.

The real problem was, there were only five of them and he wasn’t the only one waiting for the perfect time to devour the sweet fruits. Marinette was sweet incarnate, and it was dangerous to take away her rights to something as delicious as cherries. Sure, there were strawberries and peaches and pomegranates and mangoes and blueberries, but cherries were another matter.

Both of them grab a cherry each, slowly relishing the ripeness. They revel at the sweetness of the fruit, seemingly a perfect blend even with all of the sugar that the frozen dessert provides. Their lips and tongues are tainted a pretty red, a testament to their indulgence of a tiny thing. They take more of the ice cream until they think that enough was had before the second taking of their cherries. Scoops, licks, dollops and many spoonsful later, and it was now down to the fifth and last one. Juleka and Rose are of a similar predicament, more engrossed in their chatter than to bother who was eating what and how much. They did not share the same sentiment of the red fruit, but it was Rose who triumphed at having the last one.

Between Luka and Marinette, there was what occurred to be a stand-off on who was to have the red glorious treasure sitting in the middle of melted cream, trails of chocolate syrup slowly descending from their place among the walls of the boat, swallowing strays of sprinkles on their journey. Both of their eyes meet the other, a silent wager of war provoking one of them to dare take action – to dare take hold of the last cherry and claim victory.

It must’ve been influenced by her many encounters with akumas that allowed Marinette the confidence to take quick action. She had taken her beloved by surprise, enough so that he doesn’t realize her mouth has already caged the fruit until it was too late for him to reach for it as well. Or so she thought.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he leans his face closer to hers, fanning her face with his breaths. She looks at his all too close lips that were stained by something sweet, and it was all she could before Luka nudges her nose with his. Marinette’s eyes widen as her cheeks flush in rapid progression. She stiffens as Luka takes hold of her right shoulder and the back of her head to support it, and she tingles in anticipation.

Was it possible to get any warmer, what with the new wave of warmth taking over her? On instinct, Marinette parts her lips just as Luka’s descends upon hers. The beach is a crowded and public space, and yet she hears nothing but the hitching of their breaths. His touch sends shivers and tingles through her whole body. His lips melds with hers, its softness showering her entire being with nothing but pure satisfaction. Marinette isn’t sure when her hands start moving, but she relents to its busy task of caressing every bit of his exposed skin. His tongue brushes against her bottom lip, she gasps from her need to breathe, and he takes advantage of the opening. If they were not sitting, Marinette is sure that her knees would’ve given up the moment she felt Luka taste the cherry she had in her mouth. She squeaks as she remembers where they are, that people could be watching, that his sister and her girlfriend could be watching, but at the moment she really didn’t want to care if he keeps on kissing her like this.

Her tongue touches his, and he tenses a little at the shock of her boldness. He continues his assault on her, one hand slowly going down to the dip of her waist and tightening their grip, pushing her much closer, and the other threading through her hair carefully to avoid disturbing her sunglasses. Was it even possible to get her any closer to him? To have her skin touch his any closer, when there was nothing left in between them but the bare amount of clothes they had called swimsuits? Surely there was a way? Such a problem it was, for Luka was feeling the consequences of dangerous thoughts trying to push its way to out of his inhibitions.

Not here. Not now. Marinette needed appreciation, not public humiliation.

He finally decides to relinquish himself of her, a small trail of saliva hanging onto their lips. His eyes lazily draw down to her chin, where saliva was also threatening to fall, and his thumb reaches up to wipe it off her perfectly flushed face that was evidently not from the sun’s heat. He notices how her eyes are dazed, her panting as loud as the waves crashing by the shore. Her hands had stopped in their quest to paint a pattern of contentment but were still touching his skin. She appears to be daydreaming, and Luka couldn’t be happier to know that he has this kind of effect on her.

He swallows and sees her eyes follow the movement of his throat. He can’t help but let out a small chuckle at the sight of temptation personified in front of him. She looks wonderful in teal, but even better with hints of red on her skin, revealing the constellations of freckles planted along the plains of her skin. He still hears the loud pounding of his heart, and he wonders she hears it, too.

“L-Lukaaa?” She slurs a little with her speech, yet he straightens himself and pays close attention to his tiny beloved. “L-Lu…”

“Y-yes, sweets?”

“W-why…what did you…?” she’s gasping for more air still, her eyes looking like the ocean water, darkened slightly with desire.

“You got selfish with the cherry. I just had to taste it, too.” He’s still out of breath, but he’s glad to speak more coherently compared to her.

#lukanette #lukanette february #julerose #luka couffaine #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #ml fanfic #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

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