#Kotetsu guards his feelings and keeps them SO close to his chest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarecrow-supremacy · 4 years ago

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A/N: Oookieee, so I decided to start writing a new fic bc I have great ideas for a story line. Yet I can’t bring myself I writing an actual beginning. Like I’ve already written some random chapters, but I can’t do anything with them because they don’t really make much sense without the context of the rest of the fic/my ideas. Like this chapters is where the romance/actual x reader gets into actual action. Hopefully you get the gist of what the plot is, and aren’t confused as hell from this part. Sorry if it’s a bit long, it’s around 4.8k-ish words. Enjoy 💜

Hatake Kakashi wasn't one to celebrate his birthday.

He simply thought that they were foolish excuses to let loose and party. To Kakashi, birthdays were no reason to be happy and celebrate. They were just reminders of how long he had endured the pain of living. Each year marked another without the people he once held close in his heart. His father, his sensei, his teammates, and (y/n)...

The day that (y/n) gone on that horrible mission was his special day. The mission he was supposed to go on, but (y/n) filled in for because she wanted him to go celebrate with Gai and the others. So much for having the day of joy...Kakashi thought to himself mournfully.

With a great sigh, he grabbed the last of his belonging, shoving them in his mission pack. He'd promised to take his students out of a group mission for the day, but it had been mostly for selfish reasons. Kakashi had hoped that this would take his mind off of the weight in his soul, yet knowing that his efforts would be futile. The loss would never leave him, it would always follow him like a darned shadow. It would forever haunt him. There was not letting go of the horrors of his past.

Slowly, Kakashi strolled to the gates of Konoha to meet his kids, shoving his hands in his pockets as he mumbled a little tune under his breath. The dark cloudy sky and drizzling rain seemed to mirror how he felt inside.

Drip, drop. Drop, drop. Drop, drop.

Each raindrop fell upon the dirt paths of the town, dampening Kakashi's Jonin uniform. If only he'd gone on that mission, if only he hadn't let (y/n) take his place. If only so many things that happened hadn't. If only he felt whole again. He could feel the heavyweight of guilt on his shoulders, spreading pain throughout his body. Sure, Team 7 filled the void, but they could only do so much. If there is one thing I wish for, it is that these kids will grow up to be happy.

A soft smile played upon Kakashi's face as he approached the three teens. "KAKASHI-SENSEI!" His hyperactive blonde student, Uzumaki Naruto, yelled at him, "YOU'RE LATE-TTEBAYO!" He raised his fist in anger. Sakura glared at both Kakashi and Naruto, slapping the boy's back to calm him down. Off to the side stood Sasuke, his hands in his pockets as he briefly kicked the dirt and pebbles around him to form his clan's symbol. "Usuratonkachi," he grumbled at the group. To be honest, Kakashi did feel a little guilty about keeping the kids waiting for him. They were being held back just because he was wallowing in self-pity. And Kakashi felt ashamed of that; ordering his mind to push his thoughts further to the back of his mind.

Kotetsu and Izumo, guards of the gates, turned to the team and smiled in greeting. "The gate opening mechanism is broken, so we have to manually open the gates," they explained. "Heading out yet again, eh?" Kotetsu chuckled. "I thought you lot just came back from a mission. Ya leaving so soon?" Izumo asked. Naruto pumped his hand into the air, "Yeah! Dattebayo! It's only a C rank, but it'll be fun-ttebayo!"

He's a lot like you, eh Obito, Kakashi's mind wandered as he looked up at the clouded sky, a drop of rain fell upon his nose and slid down his mask. If only you, Minato-sensei, and Rin were here to see us in action. You would be proud.

But what about (y/n)? Part of Kakashi was surprised that he didn't think of her immediately. Did he still believe that she could've been alive? After the Hokage had told him that he'd lost contact with (y/n), Kakashi didn't know what to think. It had been 3,650 days since she left. 3,589 since she was supposed to come back. And 3,529 days since they fully lost contact. What were the chances she'd come back, alive or injured? Kakashi wanted to believe that she was still alive. Was that realistic?

"She's gone, Kakashi! You need to understand that!" He flashed back to when Asuma, Gai, and Kurenai had tried to slap some sense into him. Well actually, Kurenai had slapped him. "Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura gently tugged his sleeve, straining her arm up so her red umbrella would also cover his head. "Are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately." She whispered as she looked up at him.

"I'm fine, Rin," Kakashi weakly smiled, "It's nothing that you should worry about." Sakura flashed him a questioning look, "Rin?" Sucking the air, Kakashi's whole body tensed up, "Sorry." He looked away, turning his attention to the bickering Sasuke and Naruto. "Just a little mix-up, Sakura." He put on a fake smile, breaking up the boy's fight. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Alright! Shanaroo!"

"Dattebayo!"

Kotetsu and Izumo went to open the gates but stopped to exchange worrisome glances. "Someone just knocked from the other side of the gates. Which is weird because our list says that we shouldn't be expecting anybody." Izumo knit his eyebrows together. Kotetsu, who had been looking through a glass which allowed him to see the incomer, hastily urging Izumo to help him. "ANBU!" He had barked at his partner, "Bleeding! Dying, wounds, whatever! They need medical attention!" That had caught Kakashi's attention, he got ready to act as the guards opened up the gates, heaving on the rusted hinges. Yet he was not mentally prepared for what awaited on the other side of the grand doors.

There she stood. Uniform torn, stained and ripped up. The wakizashi sword that was strapped to her hip was blunt and scratched, the sheath dented. Skin scratched and bruised, wounds dripping with blood and gore. A long x shaped cut on the inner side of her left thigh. Gasping and choking for air, she started to wobble, blood dribbling down her limbs and stomach. The rain continued to fall, now hard and heavy; burning and searing the wounds of the lady. Yet she still managed to keep her face from wavering In an instant, Kakashi recognized who the woman was based on her cracked porcelain ANBU mask. (y/n).... "Sakura! Go alert the hospital. And you two boys, clear the way for Sakura so she can get there. Quickly!" Kakashi ordered them as he took the heavily wounded woman in his arms. Anger and fear coursed through Kakashi's veins as his heart thumped erratically. He could feel (y/n)'s body twitch in pain. "Izumo, go let Hokage-sama know that Ibara-hime has returned." Kakashi let out one last demand before zipping off to follow his kids.

"Kakashi..." (y/n) mumbled out his name, "Kakashi..." she shakily rose her hands up to gently cup his masked cheeks. "What is it?" He whispered, gently rubbing her skin through a torn patch of her ripped uniform. "Happy birthday, Hatake..." She softly breathed, her tight grip of Kakashi's chest loosened as her eyes dropped closed. Please don't die, (y/n)... I've waited all the fucking years. You aren't leaving me again. A tear formed in Kakashi's eye, flying off with the rain as he bolted towards the hospital. Stay with me a bit longer, will you?

"My sensei will be here any second with an ANBU woman in need of immediate medical attention!" Kakashi heard Sakura's voice quiver as he barged into the hospital. "I'm here, kids. Go to Gai-sensei and stay with him until I'm back." He quickly barked, flashing all of the nurses who flowed into the room a nervous look. "Please, help her. I'm begging you." He pleaded with the staff uncharacteristically. I need her to live. Need. "We do what we can, sir." One of the medic-nin nodded, putting (y/n)'s unconscious body onto the stretcher. If (y/n) lives, that would be the best birthday gift ever.

Kakashi jogged after the nurses and doctors, peering into the emergency clinic room through the window. "I'm sorry, Sir, but you won't be able to visit the lady until all the major injuries have been cleaned up and treated." A male nurse out his hand in his shoulder from behind. "But..! Okay..." Kakashi let out a sigh, "Isn't there any paperwork that needs to be filled out?"

The nurse shook his head, "The Hokage has come and is speaking to one of my colleagues about it. Don't worry about it. You won't have to take care of any of that." He tried to reassure the angsty shinobi, "The woman is part of the ANBU ranks, right? Her mask is of the uniform." Kakashi nodded his head, biting his lip inside of his mask, "Yeah...she is... but it's kinda complicated." The nurse raised his eyebrow but just shrugged. "Can I speak with the Hokage?" The Hatake requested. "Come this way," the other man sighed, leading him away.

Kakashi let out a deep and long sigh as he held (y/n)'s scraped hand in his gloved ones. He had been told by the same nurse from before that (y/n) was in a decent state to accept visitors, yet was still unconscious. He could tell that the nurse was hiding something from him, but he was too worried about (y/n) to give it a second thought. Hesitantly, he brought her hand to his masked lips, gently pressing them against the fabric. "Ya know, (y/n). After you left, I decided to give those goddamn books a try. And you're right, they are addictive. Thanks for the gift," Kakashi sadly chuckled before pausing for a moment.

"Those books, they helped me a lot. They helped me get through my days, just like you told me."

"They also helped me realize something. They helped me realize that I don't hate you. I don't want to hate, and I never should've."

"I've realized that I was such a dick to you at the beginning and that it was all my fault that our relationship became how it was. I regret it... So when you wake up again, I just want to start over again. Maybe not entirely, but just so that we can leave all the hate behind us. How does that sound?"

Kakashi stared at the sleeping (y/n), her chest heaving up and how slowly and rhythmically. It hurt him to see her like that, her skin swollen in the places of the stitches and anointed bruises. "Listen, (y/n). I'd never been able to tell this to you while you're conscious, so I might as well let it out now. I...I love you." Kakashi rightly shut his uncovered eye. "After feeling your loss, my dumbass self finally realized how much you are worth. After they pass on, you and the others were all I had left. But then you also left me, that hurt like hell." His tone started to break.

"Lord Hokage told me about the whole fake-death move, and I was relieved that you weren't gone for good. And then we lost contact, everybody assumed the mission had been finished, and your squad sacrificed your lives for it. I couldn't let the fact that you could be a dead sink in. It didn't feel right. Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai tried to get me out of another depression cycle. Kurenai even went to the lengths of quite literally slapping some sense into me." Kakashi played with a loose strand of (y/n)'s (h/c) hair.

The muscles of (y/n)'s hand twitched ever so slightly. Kakashi's drooping head snapped up; he'd almost fallen asleep in the chair. "(y/n)?" He murmured as her eyes started to flutter, "(y/n)?"

(y/n) chapped lip parted ever so slowly, taking a big breath of air, her (e/c) eyes squinting. "Hatake..?" She shakily managed to mumbled, her voice hoarse and dry. She tried to prop herself up on the bed, but Kakashi eased her back into her resting position. "Rest, (y/n), you're not ready to stress yourself yet." Kakashi to her, "I'll be back with a nurse and some water for you, alright?" (y/n) opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She simply looked down and nodded.

Moments later, Kakashi came back with the nurse and water. "Here," he carefully put the cup to her lip, gently tipping the cup, "Good." He turned to the nurse, who seemed to be scribbling something down from the little monitor to his clipboard. Kakashi's eyes followed the cord attached to it, to the long x shaped hash in (y/n)'s inner left thigh. What worried Kakashi was the anxious look on the nurse's face.

"(l/n)-san, your vitals are doing alright, but you'll have to stay here for a night or two just so that we can keep an eye on something's that may need monitoring." He curtly nodded his head, "Lord Hokage wished to speak to you. So, sir, that means you may have to leave."

Kakashi tried to reason with the other man, but (y/n) reached to weakly squeeze his thigh. "It's okay, Hatake. You can just drop by later." (y/n) tried to smile. "Fine," Kakashi grumbled, leaving the room and letting Hiruzen in.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hiruzen came back out. "How's (y/n)?" Kakashi asked him impatiently. The Hokage put his hand on Kakashi's shoulder as if trying to soothe him, "She'll be better soon. Don't worry, alright." The silver-haired shinobi let out a small grunt, "I know that she'll get better with time. But what about now?"

Kakashi knew that Hiruzen loved (y/n) almost like a daughter, he cared about her deeply. Hence the elaborate cover-ups to protect (y/n) and her squad on the unconventionally lengthy mission. The Hatake could see the sadness that had tried to be tucked away in the Sarutobi's eyes. "The main concern of the moment is the poison in the gash on her left thigh. The medic-nins have tried to extract as much of it as possible, and try to find something that will counteract the effects." The elderly man explained to him. "Did they find an antidote?" Kakashi questioned.

"That is where the problem lies," Hiruzen explained, "There is a certain medicinal herb that is used alongside a jutsu to nullify the effects, as the poison has traces of chakra. We have a few medics on hand who support the skill to perform the jutsu, but we don't have the plant. Even so, that won't be a permanent cure." Kakashi knit his eyebrows together, "How would it not be a perfect cure? Plus, since there are traces of chakra, could we possibly track down the person who created the poison and make them fess up on the cure?" He questioned.

"Great thinking, but..." Hiruzen groaned, "(y/n) said that they performed a self-destruction jutsu just after striking her. He probably thought that it would be in their best interest to take their secrets to the grave with them." Kakashi cursed under his breath, "Fuck... This is terrible."

Hiruzen nodded in agreement, "No duh."

Kakashi's head shot up, "Uh?!"

The elder man's eyes widened, "Did I use the term correctly?! I'm trying to pick up on the phrases the kids are using these days..."

Kakashi gritted his teeth, "Right idea of the meaning, I guess. But the context and timing...wasn't quite fit." Looking ever so slightly dejected, "Oh...alright." Smoothening out the wrinkles in his robe and putting in his cob pipe, "Kakashi, if you are going to stay here with (y/n), could you at least pick up some good food. The food in the hospital canteen is quite bland." Kakashi nodded his head and obliged, only to be stopped in his tracks by Hiruzen.

"Kakashi, I'd like to ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"What caused your change in actions towards (y/n) change so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've observed you two whilst you were in the ANBU together, and you never got along that well. And suddenly you act so attached to her, Kakashi. You don't need to answer. It's just that as your leader, I want to understand what is going on in the heads of some of my most trusted people." Hiruzen explained to Kakashi, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cob pipe.

Kakashi frowned from behind his mask, trying to figure out how to explain his change of feelings in a professional manner. "I think that after I was given the impression that she was gone, I noticed that I cared about her. It made me realize that I was wrong to not see how much she meant in my life." He tried, his voice fading off into a whisper. Hiruzen smiled and nodded, "You really are something else, Kakashi."

Kakashi silently strolled over to Ichiraku's to grab some takeout. The paper lanterns lit the nearly empty streets of Konoha, creating a soft and soothing ambiance. The smell of the rain and moisture still clung to the air, the dirt roads had muddy dampness to them. "Yo! Kakashi, my eternal rival!" A boisterous and friendly voice greeted the said man. "Hey, Gai," Kakashi responded, he noticed his students sitting alongside each other and gave them a quick wave and smile. Naruto and Lee were arguing about who'd get Sakura. Sakura insisted that Sasuke would come around in her favor. Sasuke was quietly eating his food. And Neji and Tenten were discussing a new sword they saw in the windowsill of a weaponry shop.

"I'll take two eggplant miso soups with brown rice noodles," Kakashi leaned over the counter space between Lee and Naruto to order his meal, also effectively stopping the argument. "Thanks, Ayame," he thanked the daughter of Teuchi, owner of the quaint place. "No problem, Kakashi-san!" She chirped.

"Kakashi?" Gai raised his brushy brow, "Your kids told me about what happened this morning..." Kakashi sighed and pulled him aside so that they were at a comfortable distance, "It was (y/n)..." he told his best friend, "She's back and in the hospital because she's not in good health at the moment. I just came here to pick up a meal for her." Kakashi watched as Gai's jaw dropped, "(Y/N) IS ALIVE!" He exclaimed a touch too loud for his eternal rival's taste, "CAN I MEET HER?!" Tears of youthful joy waterfalled down the jumpsuit-clad man's cheeks. "I'll see if you can come tomorrow, alright Gai." Gai smiled broadly, "This is very...unusual. Youthful, nonetheless!" He grinned.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and nodded, "I'm glad she's back..." he murmured barely loud enough for Gai to hear. Knowingly, Gai patted Kakashi's back. "Oh! Yeah! Happy birthday, my youthful rival!" He gently punched his comrade's shoulder. A smile formed on Kakashi's lips, "Thanks, Gai." He flashed his eccentric friend his signature close-eyed smile.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, Kakashi! Have a good night!"

Knock knock, Kakashi rapt (y/n)'s door, "Can I come in?"

"Come in," (y/n) murmured, a small moan of pain escaping her lips, "Ouch..."

Kakashi quickly set the takeout on a little table, rushing to (y/n)'s side. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and helped her to the table. "I got us dinner because the food at the canteen isn't that good." He explained with a slight shrug. "Thanks, Hatake," a weak smile formed on her lips. The silvered-haired Jonin served them their meals. "Itadakimasu," they both mumbled.

Heavy tension filled the room as they ate in silence. (y/n) knew that Kakashi had his mask down, but didn't look up. "It's been a while..." Kakashi breathed, in hopes of hearing (y/n) speak, "Too long..." The kunoichi rested her forehead on her palm, "I- Yeah..." she mumbled, eyes growing classier by the second. So much for trying to start a conversation... Kakashi thought sadly as they resumed their meals without a word. The silence seemed to be killed him. Kami, it had been 10 goddamn years! 3650 days since he had gotten to talk to the woman. He missed her. Hell, he could even say that he missed all of their little spats. Hatake Kakashi missed everything about (y/n).

"I missed you..." was all Kakashi mumbled as he pushed his finished food away and pulled up his mask, "All these days, months, and years."

Hot tears slipped down (y/n)'s cheeks, forming a puddle on the table. "I-I came back be-because I didn't want-want to hurt you and the r-rest. Dying on passed down pain to the people who love you. I can't afford to c-carry the guilt of t-that." She mumbled shakily, "I promised to be back, a-and I held up the promise." Kakashi sadly smiled as he awkwardly reached under the table to gently caress (y/n)'s thigh.

"You care about others so much, but you should really take a moment to care about yourself, (y/n)." Kakashi scolded the injured kunoichi, "You had me scared for you; all those gashes and open wounds... You could've died," he knit his eyebrows together in worry. "Don't do that ever again."

(y/n)'s dull smile faltered as Kakashi spoke on, "Now you know how I felt when I saw you doing all those suicidal stunts back then on those missions. It was like you were in a hurry to die... I mean, I was too, but you did some seriously dumb shit," she giggled emptily. Kakashi sweat-dropped, "I see... I guess you are right..." (y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes as the masked shinobi let out a drained sigh, "I'm always right, Hatake."

"Really, (l/n)? You've been through torturous pain, and you still act like a child." Kakashi groaned, "All these years..." (y/n) shot him a hard glare, "All these years and you still think you're in charge of me." He cast a confused look, "It's my duty to protect you, as a comrade." As a comrade... "I guess, but you're just annoying, Hatake," she huffed.

"I'm sorry about ruining your birthday with my arrival and stuff. I probably ruined your plans with those kids." (y/n) looked down, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them, "I could hear you guys through the gate; they seemed pumped about going out. I'm sorry, I didn't think about the flaws in my whole plan." Kakashi's head snapped up from its resting position on the table, "It's fine, they don't even know it's my birthday," he paused, "But you planned to come here? As in, today in particular. With all those injuries, (l/n), you should've just tried to take care of yourself. My birthday isn't as important as your health."

The (y/n) shook her head, "I was going to stay at a small village pretty far from here before finally coming home. I planned to just heal up there and see how things went from there. I even considered settling down there. But that just didn't feel right," (y/n) face set in a frown, "Once I realized that your birthday wasn't that far off, I decided that I couldn't stay and needed to come back. I doubted I would even live to be back. But here I am..." she said with a soft wince of pain. "It was terrible, I hated every second of it," Her (s/t) fingers made their way to the raw mark on her inner thigh, “I’d already lost so much; there was nothing for me to lose at that point.” Kakashi's face softened as he understood what she meant. (y/n) wasn't put in the mission alone, she had her team. They all must've been killed with time.

"Ouch!" (y/n) yelped as she let out a moan of pain, clenching the fabric of her hospital-issued pajama pants. “Shh..." Kakashi whispered into her ear, quickly leaning in to soothe her, "What's causing all this pain?" He asked with a frown as (y/n) bit her lip. "It's the thing in your thigh, right? Lord Hokage and the nurse told me a bit about it. But I still don't fully understand it and how it can't fully be cured."

(y/n) buried her face in her hands, "Oh..." She mumbled, "The poison can't de be removed because it's already been inside of me too long. And since it is laced with chakra, the properties of it aren't completely like normal poison." She blinked back the stinging agonizing tears in her eyes, "The herb that I need is just going to ease the effects in my body, whilst the jutsu will seal it from triggering anything that was layered in with the chakra." (y/n) explained. Kakashi could tell she was trying her hardest to keep her face straight, pushing back the pain and hurting inside. "The thing is–"

"What?" Kakashi asked the pained woman, his tone soft and soothing, "I can help if I know what's going on."

Warily, (y/n) agreed to speak on, "The place where the mission was stationed at was just underground of the nuke-nin outpost I was from. And the guy who poisonous me was one of the other kids' experiments were done on, along with me. He was a few years older than us, and his name was Hiroto Myoga. His parents were in owed debt to the rogues, they were forced into being test subjects until they died. Which left Hiroto in the nuke-nin's hands." She rubbed the temple of her head pushing away the images that sent a shiver down her spine, "Something similar had happened in the case of my parents and me. But unlike me, when the ANBU did the raid, Hiroto was snuck away just in time."

Kakashi's heart sank as he heard what she was telling him. (y/n) had never known much about her past, the damned curse seal had caused. “Since he was older than most of the other kids there, the nuke-nin's of the outpost decided that they needed to trust their information. It was all precautionary, just in case they were taken down. And that's just what happened. Hiroto was the one ordered to put memory restriction curse seals on us, the kids, before he fled to be underground, where the actual harm was being done. That meant that all this time Hiroto had been working in those old plans." (y/n) closed her eyes tightly, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

With a subtle groan, Kakashi supported (y/n) up from the chair and rested her in her cot. "Don't stress yourself, (y/n). You can just tell me later; it's getting late anyway." He told her. "It's fine, Hatake. Letting this out helps me feel better." She reassured him.

"The ANBU caught wind of suspicious activity in that area and decided to send out a squad to go check out. I overheard Danzō arguing with Lord Hokage about it, and got interested. It was really dumb, but I just wanted to go to learn more about what happened in my past. I learned, but that can with lots of twists and turns. 10 years of going undercover..." (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes met Kakashi's single uncovered black one, "It wasn't long before Hiroto became suspicious of us, slowly narrowing the group down till it was just me." (y/n) took a deep breath and continued, "After Hiroto killed himself in our final fight, my curse seal was lifted. That's how I suddenly was able to remember all of the past. All of it."

A pit formed in Kakashi's stomach as he watched (y/n) cry in silence. He wanted to help her feel better, he really did. But he was afraid that he'd make things worse; dealing with feelings just wasn't his thing. "I'm here for you, (l/n). We've been through so much together, you've helped me through it all," Kakashi tried to reassure her, "It's my turn to look after you. Please, just don't cry." He reached out his hand to brush a tear-off of her streaked cheeks.

“Are you okay with me staying here for the night?" Kakashi asked (y/n) as they sat at the bay window, looking down upon the empty moonlit streets of Konoha. The soft light cast down by the moon seemed to make everything look beautiful, serene, and at peace. "(l/n)?" He asked again, turning to look back at her. A gentle smile played on Kakashi's lips as he saw that she'd fallen asleep. (y/n) had been through so much throughout the day, she not only deserved to rest for a long time but also needed to. "Good night, (y/n)..." he carefully lifted the sleeping beauty and placed her on the cot. Sitting back at the bay seat, Kakashi took in a deep breath. "I love you."

She's finally back.

She's finally home.

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daybreakrising · 4 years ago

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@fightingdreamcrs asked: five times kissed [izumo & kotetsu] from this meme

Under a cut bc these will all get long.

ONE

He wasn't in love with his best friend.

Sure, they had an incredibly close bond that, to him, seemed entirely different to other friendship pairings he witnessed amongst their peers. But that was just who they were. They'd been friends since they were kids, they'd grown up together, trained together, fought together. They were a team, both as shinobi and as people.

They were just friends.

Right?

Well, there was only one real way to find out. He wasn't shy. He wasn't scared. They'd laugh about it afterwards because nothing – nothing – could ruin their friendship. He was certain that there was nothing that would cause Izumo to hate him.

He was sat in their usual spot, a book in his hands, no doubt some means of training or study. He was always a hard worker, his Izumo. His Izumo. It didn't take him long to join him on the bench, pluck the book from his hands, and silence his protest with a kiss.

What he'd expected to happen was… well, nothing. That it would just feel like kissing his friend. Instead, he felt his heart skip in his chest and an unfamiliar fizzy warmth in the pit of his stomach. Uh oh.

Turns out, he was in love with his best friend.

TWO

"Don't drop your guard, Iz!" Kotetsu grinned, materialising at his friend's back and delivering a swift, sweeping kick, aiming to knock him off balance. He almost succeeded, too, but Izumo was too damned quick-thinking. An artful dodge, and he was poised to strike or defend a few paces away. Damnit.

They both charged at once, kunai and shuriken flashing, deflecting. It was nothing more than a distraction, intended to shift the focus of the mind, but neither of them would fall for that trick. They'd been sparring together for too many years – they could read each other's movements perfectly.

If they ended up facing each other in the upcoming final stage of the Chunin exams, it could very well be a long battle.

In the end, Izumo managed to get in a lucky – although almost certainly well-calculated – strike, and Kotetsu found himself on his back in the grass, pinned in place by his friend. Izumo smiled above him, pleased with his victory. Well, he couldn't have that.

He hooked a leg over one of Izumo's, managed to get a hand in the hair at the back of his neck, and leaned up to press their lips together. It worked like a charm. Thrown entirely by his unexpected action, Izumo loosened his grip enough for Kotetsu to promptly reverse their positions. Now he was the one grinning down at the loser.

For about thirty seconds, before hands clutched at his collar and dragged him in for another kiss.

THREE

It seemed like forever since the last time they'd had a decent break. It felt like it was just one thing after another with no give, no time to take a step back and piece yourself back together before the next disaster struck. Up until now, their breaks had been snatches of time scattered here and there, just enough to recover from injury or exhaustion, but not enough to truly relax and unwind.

Now, they had a week. A week. Of course, if a situation called for extra hands that would be cut short, but Kotetsu liked to think positive.

Content and full after the lunch they'd just shared together, Kotetsu slung his arm around Izumo's shoulders as they walked the streets of Konoha. He was already thinking of how they'd spend the rest of their day, running through the various possibilities and knowing that his ever-studious partner would likely want to do some reading along the way.

"Kotetsu…"

He turned to Izumo so swiftly the other man had no time to pull back to a safe distance, their noses bumping together with the close proximity of their faces. Kotetsu's lips lifted into a grin as the faintest hint of colour rose to his partner's cheeks.

He couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. He pressed a kiss to each flushed cheek, and a final one to the tip of his nose. "Hm?" Izumo blinked at him once, twice, and then his eyes filled with warmth and a smile graced his features.

"…Nothing."

FOUR

Some days, sitting on the gates of Konoha was a wild ride, with plenty of excitement or activity to keep the mind from wandering. Others, it was a total drag. They'd seen off a couple of teams heading out on various missions, but beyond that, no one had come and gone and there was absolutely nothing happening.

Needless to say, Kotetsu was bored.

He paced behind the desk at the gate, restless, until Izumo shot him a glare, finally looking up from the clipboard he had been avidly studying for the past ten minutes. He stopped, instead dropping onto his chair with a deliberately drawn out whine.

"You should be focusing on the job, Kotetsu."

"Oh, come on, Iz, nothing's happening…" He rested a hand upon his partner's knee, smiling when Izumo didn't immediately brush him off. His fingertips traced idle patterns through the cloth of his trousers, and he caught the fleeting lift at the corner of Izumo's lips. "Hey, I know how we can pass a couple of minutes…"

The fact that Izumo didn't put up much resistance when he slid into his lap and drew him into a deep, lengthy kiss told Kotetsu that, despite all appearances, Izumo had been just as bored as he was.

FIVE

They packed up their gear in silence, nothing but the sound of tools clinking together and clasps being buckled filling the air around them. They were both avoiding talking about what lay ahead of them, but they would have to face it eventually.

Kotetsu set aside the pouch he'd been packing with a sigh. They had faced battle, war, before this, but he knew this was something else entirely. There was always the risk of death on any mission, but this time, the odds were highly stacked against them. There was every chance that one or both of them would not make it back to Konoha.

He glanced across to the man who had been at his side since childhood, the man who had helped him discover who he was, who had been his support through every bump in the road of life. He loved him. Loved him more than he could have ever thought it possible to love a single person. Izumo was his life, his partner, his friend, his other – and better – half. He knew if he lost him, it would destroy him.

His arms encircled Izumo's waist from behind, no words uttered as he simply held him tight, his face buried in the hair at the back of his neck. When Izumo turned in his arms to face him, when hands lifted to guide his head up, framed his face, Kotetsu sank into the kiss offered to him like a drowning man finally breathing air once again.

He poured every ounce of his love into that kiss, knowing it could be their last. If the worst should happen, his only solace had to be that Izumo would know just how much he meant to him before the end.

#fightingdreamcrs #;one half of a whole (asks; kotetsu)#;I won't be without you (fightingdreamcrs; kotetsu & izumo)#( soft !! husbands !! )

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thewanderingwomanofnaruto · 7 years ago

Text

CHAPTER 18~~

I completely forgot to post ch 18 here, but don’t worry guys it’s only been a couple of days since I’ve posted it on ff.net and A03!

That wasn’t the last time I saw the Uchiha trio, but it was the last time I saw them happy together. Sushi, such a sweet soul and caring soul, especially for his cousin, Itachi. I wish he could have lived longer than burden Itachi with his death. Though I had the feeling that there was more to it than just a simple suicide. I asked Kakashi after the war and I was right. It was so, so much more complicated than I had assumed.

The days after I had learned of what had happened, I wished that Danzo was still alive so that I could have my turn with him. And there are days were I wished I still had the chance to give the Uchiha clan a piece of my mind for what they had put the poor boys through. Still, time passes and waits for no one, leaving me with only wishes and regrets.

If I’m honest with myself, that night was both the most memorable and the most mortifying night of my life. There were several reasons for that. The main one being that I wanted nothing to do with the plot and Kakashi played a major part in it, the second being that he was drunk. Plain and simple.

I didn’t want to have sex with a partner who was drunk. Just no. But at the same time I felt…wistful at what I thought at the time was a, possibility of something that was never going to happen in the future.

Though none of that saved me from the embarrassment at the hands of Hisako.

Except from the memories of Akiko Reko ne Hatake Page 189

Akiko, even though only getting snatches of sleep, still felt well rested. The first rays of light filtered through the window. She stared at it and released a small sigh, somewhat regretful at the knowledge that she would have to leave the warm embrace of Kakashi’s arms. Regardless of her own want to stay, she could not. She would not allow herself too.

Casting one more glance to his sleep, she gently traced his features with a feather light touch. Her chest constricted in sorrow as she remembered her four years with Mamaru and at the same time feeling guilty of thinking of him as she lay with Kakashi.

Kakashi breathed slow and steady with sleep gracing his face, making it seem younger, much younger without all the grief, self-doubt and regret on it. Akiko could just feel her own smile twist in sadness.

‘The past is the past and I just need to deal with it.’ She scolded herself as she carefully slipped out of Kakashi’s lax arms. As soon as she left, Kakashi let out a disgruntled sound before turning over and hugging one of the extra pillows that she had been sleeping on, and promptly buried his face in it. Akiko felt her heart warm at the adorable sight before her. With a gently smile, she quickly gathered her meagre belongings and hurried out the door but not before throwing on the shirt she had been wearing last night.

She wanted to be long gone before Kakashi woke up. Akiko hoped the hangover would keep him asleep long enough for her to get away.

The door clicked shut as quietly as she could make it, and still cautious, Akiko continued to tiptoe down the hall and only allowed herself to walk normally. She hurried over to the desk where Hisako sat, and Akiko wondered if the woman ever went home.

“So, how was he?” Hisako asked with a lecherous grin that had Akiko flushing again.

“Nothing happened!” Akiko hissed to the older woman, her voice slightly raised but she kept the volume down, remembering that Kakashi was still asleep and she didn’t know if he was a heavy sleeper under the influence of alcohol, not to mention that Kakashi probably wouldn’t hear her but she didn’t want to risk it.

Hisako just drew out this week’s rate, having already figured that Akiko would do a runner.

“You are amazing!” Akiko cried happily as most of everything she had already to go. Akiko hurriedly to finish the last of the paper work and was just about ready to leave. However, there was still something holding her back, she wanted to leave a note for Kakashi. It felt wrong of her to just leave without saying anything.

Akiko signed on the last page and handed the clipboard back but she didn’t move. She stood there, staring at the stairs she had come down from as she thought. It seemed her conflict was clear as day on her face because her attention was brought back to Hisako who gently pushed forward a pen and a small wad of paper.

Akiko gave the woman a gently and grateful smile. The other woman snorted but her eyes softened.

Akiko has a strange relationship with the inn keeper. She passed the silent woman every day and sometimes Akiko would stop for a small chat which was entirely one sided since Hisako rare talked. Akiko would talk and gush about the various things she had done that day and speticals she had seen and Hisako would answer with either a look, a smile or a raised eyebrow, all holding many meanings.

Akiko promised herself that if she ever found her way back to Konoha, she would stay here.

Pulling herself away from her reflections, the debatably young woman focused her mind on her next challenge.

What to write.

‘Dear Kakashi?’ Akiko tilted her head to the left before scrunching her face, ‘Nah, he never told me his name and it would be pretty suspicious if I used it. So, no Kakashi but what about the rest?’

She huffed as the words continued to evade her. Akiko stood there thinking, still stuck on what to write, much to Hisako’s amusement, and she continued to stand there a little longer before the inspiration finally stuck.

With a slight exaggerated flourish, Akiko let the pen come to life as she wrote down her message and finished it quickly.

“Please give this to the man I came in with? And don’t mention my name, please?” Akiko asked with a pleading smile. She didn’t want Kakashi to know that they had met again and she hoped that this second time would be the last time.

(Something in her gut told her otherwise but that didn’t stop her from hoping.)

Hisako smiled softly and nodded once. Akiko new that all would be well.

With a short goodbye and a promise to return, Akiko walked out the door of the inn ‘Destined Paths with no Paths’ without looking back.

The crisp morning air prickled sharply into her face, most of the street shops were closed, the sky held the barest hints of daylight which was slowly but surely creeping across the horizon.

Akiko scrubbed at her face in an attempt to warm it but gave up when the chill attacked her hands too. The woman took in the sights of the still sleeping civilian sector. Akiko wasn’t sure of the exact time but of the two bakeries that she had passed, both were closed and had no light or movement in them. She supposed it was probably before 5 am and with this revelation, Akiko let out a wide yawn, suddenly feeling even more tired.

‘Tired or not, I’m getting out before Kakashi wakes up.’ Akiko picked up the pace as she felt her resolve strengthen.

She didn’t know how Kakashi found her and she wasn’t going to stick around to find out! Akiko lengthened her strides and forced her eyes to open, her steps matching an unheard beat. With her fear and determination as her driving force, Akiko moved swiftly through the streets.

Soon, Akiko could see the gates of the village and with her escape in sight, she slowed her steps to a pleasant walk. It seemed that the closer she got to a normal walking pace, the more she panted in execration.

As she approached the gates, she noticed two humanoid figures and then remembered the fact that the gates were guarded at all times. Akiko only hopes that whoever was guarding them today didn’t give her much grief and she certainly hoped they wouldn’t keep her around when Kakashi wakes up.

To Akiko’s relief, it was Izumo and Kotetsu. Both had seen and helped her before.

“Why are you in such a hurry to leave?” Kotetsu asked, a frown pulling at his lips.

Akiko gently gnawed on her lips, trying to come up with a way to phrase her complete and utter avoidance of Kakashi and the plot.

“I’m running from a drunk and Handsy ninja?” Came blurting out of her mouth. Both ninja opposite her tensed and suddenly Akiko could taste something heavy and a metallic tang in the air.

“Can you tell me who?” Izumo asked with a strained smile, that hinted to something more. Akiko shivered when she saw it.

‘How do I do this? I’m not going to say Kakashi because I doubt in that situation he would say his name…’ Akiko though quickly.

“He had white or silver hair and wore a half mask.” Akiko described Kakashi instead of answering Izumo’s question.

‘they’d probably ask if I knew him before if I answered with his name and if I say ‘no’ I would be lying, which I’m sure they could pick up and if I said ‘yes’ they would ask where I knew him from and that would open a can of worms!’ So caught up in her thoughts, Akiko missed the dark look exchanged between the two ninja.

It seemed Kakashi had just made it to their shit list, renowned and famous ninja or not.

They wouldn’t let this slight go unpunished.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Izumo asked with a worry and while Kotetsu echoed it with a worried frown.

“I’ll be fine but I’d rather not be here in the morning when he wakes up.” Akiko waved away their worry with a smile that had some tenseness to it.

The longer she stayed, the more edgy she started to feel, she didn’t want to stay too long. In fact, she has already stayed longer than she felt was safe. Akiko needed to leave and it had to be now.

It seemed that the two ninja picked up on her need to leave, that or they could see the panic in her movements.

“Please don’t tell them you saw me or that you know me?” Akiko asked of the two ninja, appearing as desperate as she felt in that moment.

She saw them both exchange looks before turning to her nodding.

“Don’t worry, we won’t say a word!” Izumo grinned at Akiko, who felt a ridiculous amount of relief sweep through here. There was the most miniscule disappointment, but it was drowned by her relief.

“Thank you.” She breathed to them and started into the motion of a hug before stopping herself short, remembering her own revelation that ninja’s didn’t quite like physical contact with people they didn’t trust or didn’t know.

Both smiled at here, though there was some awkwardness chasing at the edges.

“Pass us your card and we’ll let you through.” Kotetsu motioned with his hand and Akiko couldn’t have complied fast enough.

“I’ll come back sometime, hopefully when He’s forgotten all about me!” Akiko promised, with a small smile as she walked out the gates.

“Bring us a souvenir when you do!” Kotetsu called out after her, making Akiko laugh as she turned while walking backwards.

“YOU CAN COUNT ON IT!”

Once Akiko was out of sight of the village, she took a moment to breath before reaching inside and pushing her presence all the way down. She hadn’t thought she needed to use this skill so soon. Plus she was getting pretty rusty.

It was something that she had picked up from a passing hunter from Iron country. He had been in the ninja hunting business until he lost an eye. Yato had stayed in her village for a month, and it had taken most of that month to get him to teach her. He had been the toughest nut to crack but he was a great teacher since she had managed to get the skill down in the week he had left at her village.

While it had occurred to her to use it on her travels, Akiko always dismissed it as she couldn’t really see the point seeing as she hadn’t really encountered any ninja, well living ninja any way. Neither had she seen a reason to hide until now.

Now she just didn’t want to be found by Kakashi or any Konoha ninja at this point, leaving her with her last option. Supressing her presence to the point it would come off to them as nothing more than a small squirrel. Hopefully, any ninja passing by that had not seen here would just keep moving.

And to keep to the unseen part of the plan, Akiko moved off the main road and walked straight into the surrounding forests and then walked parallel to the road. As she walked, Akiko began cataloguing the various plants she could dry and use, however she rarely picked any as her urge to leave was stronger.

Only when the sun had started to dip on the horizon did Akiko slow down her pace from a very brisk walk to one of leisure. When the sun’s rays that had filtered through the leaves vanished did Akiko set up camp for the night.

With the tree leaves overhead and the left over heat from the day on the leaf litter, Akiko settled down to sleep.

Akiko groggily woke, it was still dark but she felt uneasy. Something was wrong. With great effort, the orange-haired woman forced her eyes open and herself into a more awake state. While she had, what she believed to be slightly above average night vision, there still wasn’t much she could see so instead she listened.

And listened.

As the time passed, Akiko could just hear it. The sound of a child crying.

Quiet sobs echoed in the dark.

Akiko frowned, ‘what the hell is a child doing out in the woods? And alone at that?’. Taking note that her presence was still suppressed, she moved as silently as she could over the grass, only stopping to re-orient herself to the sounds of the tears.

She got closer and closer until Akiko was right on top of the sound but the dark made it hard to see, even with her vision adjusted to the night. All she could see was a dirty mop of yellow. Nothing more.

With this in mind, Akiko chose not to approach the child lest she scare them. Instead. She made her presence known.

“Hello?” She called out gently and as soon as she had, Akiko heard the tiny gasp as the child stopped crying in shock. They didn’t answer back but she could hear the occasional hiccupping.

“Why are you crying?” She with a gentle tone.

The kid doesn’t answer but Akiko can see the wary look in his eyes as well as the sadness. Akiko knew she won’t be able to comfort him but she tries anyway and reaches an arm out and the boy flinches. Her mind stalls as she processes what she just witnessed. At the movement of her hand reaching out, this Child flinched as if something worse was coming. Her anger at whoever was supposed to look after this child rose. She had seen this kind of reaction before, in children scared by the war and in …Sayuri. There were times when, even the comforts of home and a family could not stop the instinctive reactions that came with the fear of starving or being beaten to an inch of your life.

But that was Rain, one of the many countries recovering from the third war. ‘This? This is fire Country where the coffers were fat and the only thing in short supply were ninja.’ Her thoughts churned as the minor details of the village came to her mind.

Slowly Akiko pulled her arm back and forced herself not to think further on those thoughts and instead on the boy before her who needed help. Her opening came in the form of a very loud stomach growl. Akiko reaches for her bag and the boy tenses. She slows her arm to a crawl as it enters the bag. She tugs out some recently acquired dried food she had prepared in her later days in Konoha.

She pulled out the whole bag and felt for the fish, that one, she knew had the most flavour and the most smell. Akiko kept her eyes on the boy before as she found the right package and opened it with one hand. She watched the boy’s nose flare as the smell wafted in the air and his eyes focus on the morsel in her hand.

Akiko brought the food to her mouth and took a bite, chewed and swallowed before once again moving slowly, holding out the food to him. She watched as his eyes darted between her. Akiko watched as the boy slowly reached out and gently grasped the fish as if it were the most precious thing he had. Instead of devouring it all at one, he took a small bite and stowed the food away.

Akiko felt her anger rise, if she ever found out who was responsible for hurting this boy, she would find a way to make them pay. The boy before her cowered slightly and her eyes widened as she immediately felt regret for make him fear her.

The boy stopped cowering, and Akiko noticed. Was he feeling her emotions? She pushed aside her curiosity, right now this boy needed her help and it was something she was going to give him. When Akiko spoke, she made sure to lower her voice and without her realizing it, it took on a motherly tone.

“Hey, it’s pretty cold. How come you’re out here alone?”

The boy looked at her carefully. “cause I got lost. Can’t find m’y class.” He answered in barely a whisper.

“Where you on an excursion?” Akiko continued to coax, feeling her compassion for the boy rise as he nodded shyly.

“What were they trying to teach you?” She asked with a kind smile.

“ ’ow to live wi’h out stuff. Like seeds and stuff.” He tried to explain while gesturing to the floor.

Akiko knew what he meant, survival training. He was in the shinobi academy. But that left the question, how did a shinobi lose a child when they are trained to notice all the details?

“Well I know how to do that. I can teach you if you want. I could teach you all that and more.” Akiko offered, feeling that it was the right thing to do. The boy looked at her curiously, as if wondering why she was offering to help him.

“D’you know more than sensei?” He asked as he regarded her with different eyes.

Akiko felt her lips shape them in a mischievous smile.

“About plants, yeah.” Something told her that this was right and her gut hadn’t led her wrong yet.

“Okay. I wanna learn.” The kid said quietly.

“First things first. Sleep. D-.“

“I can sleep on the floor!” The boy declared with a childish enthusiasm and then boldly walked to her and plopped on the floor and looked up at the stars.

Akiko raised an eye brow before once again reaching slowly into her bag, she could still see his form tense, and pulled out one of her shirts, it looked like a blanket compared to the size of the kid. She draped it on him and met his startled eyes.

Pure surprise gleamed back at her and Akiko felt her heart melt. She was going to look after this boy, consequences be damned.

She smiled at him before bidding him a good night.

Morning came with an unusual restriction, there seemed to be something or someone wrapped around her like an octopus. Akiko cracked an eye open and found that she had an attachment in the form of a small boy with dirty blond hair and an equally grimy face. Nevertheless, he had such a peaceful look on his face that she found it hard to wake the boy up.

The day called, and even if she wanted to leave the boy sleeping while she does her usually, and short routine, Akiko couldn’t even do that. He was just wrapped around her too tightly. Akiko sighed internally before freeing one of her limbs and tried to untangle him.

It turned out to be a half success, he was only tangled halfway when the boy started to wake up.

Akiko watched him with keen eyes as the boy mumbled his way into the conscious world. She could feel the fond smile sneak on to her lips as he blearily opened his eyes. Slits of the bluest blue she could imagine peaked beneath the lips and she grinned.

He yawned and Akiko got a rather firsthand view of the of some rather sharp canines. She was always proud that her canines were sharp, however it looked that she had been beaten in that department by the boy.

“Good morning.” She spoke softly, as he squinted to see her face and Akiko could see the moment he realised where he was and what he was doing. The boy squawked in surprise as he jumped back, releasing Akiko like she was lava.

She couldn’t help it, Akiko started giggling.

“H-hey! Whatcha laughfen for?” He damned hotly as he glared at her indignantly, hands on hips.

“That has to be the cutest thing that I’ve seen so far!” Akiko exclaimed through her giggles.

“I am not!” The boy puffed his cheeks and stomped his foot.

That just made Akiko laugh harder. But when she saw the tears collect in his eyes, Akiko stopped laughing immediately.

“Hey, hey, I wasn’t laughing at you, I just found what you were doing completely adorable.” She gently explained, “there no need to cry.”

“I’m not cryin!” He sniffed, valiantly holding back the tears that gathered dangerously.

Akiko nodded solemnly and nodded, “Of course you’re not. You’re too brave and strong. The Great…,” She trailed off letting the boy answer.

“My names Naruto.” Akiko’s heart skipped a beat but she kept going, she couldn’t do anything with him looking at her like that, not with that shy innocent smile just hiding behind the clouds. She’d just have to freak out later. And find out why he was alone. In the woods. By himself.

“The Great Naruto is too great to cry!” Akiko continued without missing a beat and it was worth it, because it got him to smile.

“THAT’S RIGHT!” He cheered and Akiko was suddenly struck with how he seemed to trust her enough to play like this, wasn’t just this morning he was so wary, like a cautioned animal? What had caused the sudden change? Not only that, but he reminded her of Sayuri and…her- her son…

Akiko’s heart suddenly hurt, pain sharp and clear. It had been so long since she had thought about her past family, even though she was fine with their passing and hers, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Alright-y then! Naruto, can I ask why aren’t you scared of me anymore?” Akiko went straight to the point.

“Cause you feel warm and, and right! And the old man didn’t wake up!” Akiko stared at the boy, surely, he didn’t mean…? And what was that with being ‘right’?

“Well, in any case! My name is Akiko and What are you doing in the woods alone?” She asked with a quirked eyebrow, now was not the time to panic, she’d do that later. Preferably when she was alone and when the bo- When Naruto was asleep.

It seemed that Naruto suddenly wilted and muttered something.

Akiko frowned at the sudden change in mood.

“Naruto?” She leaned closer to hear what he said.

“…got lost…” Akiko could see the tears start to build up again. She couldn’t help it, she hugged the boy. He stiffened and Akiko was strongly reminded the possible childhood he might have had. She had to retrain the urge to asked him and hurt people if he answered what she thought.

“That’s okay buddy. Everyone gets a little lost sometimes! I mean, I’m still lost!” Akiko tried to make him feel better.

“How are you lost?” The boy peaked through his hair.

“Well, I don’t know where I’m going! I’m just going where the road takes me! And I have no idea where I am!” Akiko explained with over dramatics, just to cheer the boy up.

“We’re in da big bushes of Konoha!” Naruto proclaimed and Akiko grinned!

“Now I’m not lost! I have a guide! Now what were you doing in the big bushes?” She quickly redirected the question back to him.

“Im gonna be a ninja! And we was doing some training! Learn’en some stuff bout plants and stuff. How they help and its really boring.” Naruto trailed off morosely.

Akiko raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m an expert in plants and stuff and I bet I could make it funn!” She teased out the last word as she watched him perk again.

‘I swear his moods are like a bouncing ball!’

“Can ya?” his tone was sceptical and Akiko smiled before leaning in and whispered conspiringly.

“And I bet I can do it in 30 days.”

“Prove it.” Naruto stared at her stubbornly.

She grinned.

‘Famous last words kid. I’ll think about why this is so easy with you later. And who ‘Old man’ is…’

#tww #the wandering woman #chapter 18 #NAruto!#naruto fanfiction #naruto uzimaki #Kakashi Hatake #Izumo and Kotetsu

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onceuponaprime · 8 years ago

Note

23. Last kiss - Cor & Drautos

Thank you for giving me an excuse to make this one shot i was planning even worse here ya go~

Got a little long so im just gonna throw a link to ao3 and hope the read more worksas my allergies take me to hell

Insomnia was bathed in light, and it seemed like a taunt, the way the city glowed in the darkness.

“Bring us down before the gate. Best not risk the ship until we know what to expect in the city.”

“That was the plan,” The mercenary woman replied from beside him. “You heard the man, boys. Take us down.”

“You got it, Lady A,” said the pilot, and the ship hummed a new tune as it began it's decent.

“So,” Aranea began, stepping away from the pilot’s seat and making her way to the center of the small ship. “What’s the plan, Mister Immortal?” His brow twitched in irritation at the nickname, and he followed her slowly, unused to having a ship beneath his feet.

“We scout, bit by bit. I doubt we’ll be able to get close to the citadel, but we need to at least take a bridge. Hopefully we pave a path for His Majesty’s return.”

“Our primary goal is to access a library,” Monica added, tapping the notepad on her lap.

“And hope you find something on Chancellor freakshow?” Cor nodded and Aranea shrugged, leaning against the wall of the ship with a casualness that felt misplaced. Like they weren’t about to drop into the ruins of Insomnia in the dead of their new eternal night. In all truth Cor still wasn’t sure what to think of the woman. Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis had vouched for her fiercely, and he owed her for their safe return, but trust was something he hadn’t yet reached.

They landed then, cutting off any further conversation as the ship settled on the ground. Monica took a moment to find her balance as she stood up from where she’d settled herself on the floor during the flight from Lestallum. She looked a little green, but the motion sickness would wear off soon, and she waved off his concerned look.

“Well at least he’s keeping the lights on,” Aranea said once the disembarked. The street lights at the West Gate flickered in response.

“Keep your guard up, those aren’t strong enough to ward off daemons,” he replied, scanning the dark, hand instinctively coming to rest on the hilt of his blade.

“Might not keep out daemons, but I’ve got a feeling that might keep out unwanted guests.” Aranea’s tone turned suddenly serious, and Cor turned his attention up to where she was pointing. An armored figure was strung up above the gate, arms extended and held by what might have been chains. Maybe a warning or an example, Cor wasn’t sure, Ardyn Izunia’s twisted methods were beyond him. In the dark it was hard to make much out, but some parts of the metal shone in the light, just enough for him to make out the almost familiar shape, preserved by whatever dark magic their foe was so fond of using.

"Is that-"

"General Glauca,” Aranea finished for him, squinting up at the figure through the gloom. “Yep.” Poor guy.”

“Did you know him?” Monica asked and Aranea shrugged.

“Not really, only met him once. Quiet for the most part, a bit dramatic, but not as bad as I thought he'd be. Better than the rest of the Empire’s lackeys at least. Well except for me and these two of course.” Cor huffed and somehow managed to keep his eyes from rolling, and wondered if the woman was ever serious. Doubtful, he decided, given what he’d seen. Still, it was cruel to be left in such a way.

“Get him down,” Cor said. “No one deserves that, not even someone like him.” Then he turned his attention to scanning the area around them, watching out for any terrors lurking in the dark, only half listening to what was going on behind him.

“You got it,” Aranea replied and Cor could hear her leap into the air and land on top of the wall with an easy grace. “Oh, yikes.”

“Is he still alive?” Monica called up to her in response.

“I hope not, that would suck.” Was all Aranea said before she fell silent. “Alright boys, I’m gonna need you to brace and catch.”

“Right!”

“Got it!”

“Bombs away!” The second chain broke louder than the first, and the ring of chains was quickly followed by a hard thump as what was left of General Glauca hit the men below. A muffled argument broke out, Cor wasn’t eavesdropping enough to understand, but the sudden horrified gasp quickly snapped his attention back around to his companions. Monica staggered back toward him, a hand over her mouth.

“Monica what is it?” She only shook her head, turning away from him like the question hurt.

Concerned he reached the body, the men who caught having retreated a fair distance after Monica’s outburst. Half the helmet had been broken away and the face beneath it made his blood run cold because he knew it. Knew it all too well. Titus Drautos looked pained in the peace of death, whatever battle corroded the armor had taken a greater toll. As Cor knelt beside him he noticed more, but he could hardly process what his eyes were telling him, violently rejecting what it meant.

“What kind of cruel trick is this?”

“No tricks here I assure you.” Cor was back on his feet in an instant, sword drawn and ready in his hand as he shot Ardyn Izunia an icy glare. To his right Aranea was poised and ready for a fight, and to his right Monica cocked her gun.

“What did you do to him?” Cor demanded, anger burning through him. Ardyn chuckled.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” he replied with a sinister grin and made his way further into the light.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aranea voiced Cor’s thought before he could speak it himself and so he simply waited for the answers he was desperate for.

“Years ago Nifleheim took a quaint little village by the sea. I met a boy there and gave him an opportunity, serve the Empire and his home would be spared and oh how eager he was for that bargain when next we met. Killing the king was just an added bonus for both of us. You see, Captain Drautos was against you all along. Almost poetic, isn’t it?” It had to be lies, he wanted it so desperately to be lies. Something in him knew it was the truth, and it made it all the worse. Betrayal stung worse than he ever imagined, but the pure rage boiling forth eclipsed it by far.

“You bastard!” Cor lunged, sword singing as it slashed through suddenly empty air.

“Please there’s no need for that, Marshal,” and the way Ardyn rolled the title off his tongue made it sound like a mockery. “Truth be told I was saving him for dear old Noct, but I’m starting to think this is so much better.”

“You’ll pay for this!” And Cor lashed out again, catching the former chancellor in the middle and. There was silence and for a moment all Cor could hear was his huffing breath and the blood roaring in his ears as his anger dulled to something he could once again control. Ardyn returned soon enough, his expression one of mild irritation.

“I did wonder why you were spared, quite the tragedy,” he said close to Cor’s ear. “But there is only one immortal in this world, Marshal, and I am getting quite sick of sharing my title.” Then he snapped, and before Cor could strike again he was gone.

“Leonis, we have a problem!” Aranea pulled his attention back to the scene behind him and what he saw made him taste bile.

Purple swirled around Glauca’s armored form as he rose from both the ground and the dead, the sickly black of the Scourge creeping over the places where the armor was still intact.

“No more,” he groaned in a voice that sounded nothing like the one Cor knew. Aranea recovered from the shock first, lashing out with her spear as Glauca lashed out with a gauntlet that was quickly becoming twisted and sharp. Pulling himself together, Cor threw himself into the ensuing fray.

“Fight it,” he begged as he crossed his blade with that rapidly transforming arm.

“I don’t think he can,” Aranea snapped, narrowly jumping over a low swipe and twisting herself in the air to counter with a jab of her lance. She was right, Cor knew she was, but knowing didn’t make it any easier, and despite the stakes of the fight Cor found himself holding back. So he kept speaking, almost pleading, and Aranea kept cursing as they battled for their lives, keeping Glauca occupied and away from the others.

Perhaps it was their frantic attempt at distraction that drew Glauca’s attention away, or maybe it was his own words. Whatever it was Cor watched that single eye, surrounded by sickly black, move away from them and towards Monica, standing back with Biggs and Wedge, unable to do anything but watch the scene unfold. Glauca parried his attack, knocking Aranea back with the force, and lurched toward the group with an uncanny speed. Cor was faster. Before Glauca could strike he was there, thrusting his blade into the place where the blackened armor seemed weak across his chest. Everything stopped, and Cor watched in abject horror as the darkness began to melt away, revealing the man beneath.

“Cor?” Titus gasped, voice his own once more before he fell back, and Cor followed.

Kotetsu had struck true, and Cor felt the long blade enter the ground where it had pierced through the armored back it was buried in. Cor landed on his knees, harsh against the cracked pavement, almost cradled against a side he’d once known so intimately. He was going into shock. Quick breath and shaking limbs. A weak hand reached up towards his face and Cor caught it and brought it to his cheek, pressing against it, rough metal against soft skin. Grounding himself with the touch. Titus wanted to speak, a thousand words trapped in his eye, warm grey clearing from the taint of the Scourge in his final moments.

“Glad it was you,” he breathed out, hoarse and quiet. It didn’t make much sense to Cor, but he knew there was a meaning behind it deeper than he could fathom.

“Save your strength, Titus,” Cor insisted like it would somehow make a difference.

With his free hand he smoothed back the dying man’s hair. Titus shuddered against the soothing touch, eye fluttering like he was fighting to keep it open. Wordlessly his mouth moved, whatever final words he had lost with his failing strength. So Cor kissed him, trying to convey everything through that familiar touch. Titus reciprocated, weak but sure, cold lips pressing against his, and something passed between them that Cor couldn’t ever hope to name. It was awkward, the right side of his face scraping against the edge of the partially crumbled helm. Despite the discomfort he kept close, like the gentle connection of their mouths could stave off the inevitable. But it couldn't. Soon Titus exhaled, a soft puff of air tickling Cor’s face, and then he went slack beneath him.

Cor pulled away slowly, vision blurred just so as he watched the man dissolve, flaking away in bright sparks as the astrals claimed him at last. There was a cruel beauty to it, but Cor knew that at least in the end, Titus had known peace. His lips tasted like salt and ash and countless questions that would never be answered. The one thing he had now was closure, which settled the pieces of his broken heart into something that was almost whole.

When Aranea suggested they head back to Hammerhead Cor didn’t protest. The trip back was silent and Cor was so lost in his own thoughts he would not have noticed speaking anyway. Monica’s hand against his pulled him back to the present, and he looked down as she laced their fingers and squeezed with all the comfort she could offer. For now that was enough. It had to be.

#mmck writes fics #cor x titus #titus drautos #cor leonis #hey fam i love you but this was cruel #not that i wasnt already planning this but still

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haprilona · 8 years ago

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Frozen to the Cor

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Genre: Romance/Humor Rating: T

Characters: Cor Leonis, Gentiana, Clarus Amicitia, Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII

Relationships: Cor/Gentiana Word count: 4187 Summary: Gentiana’s paying a visit to King Regis, but he’s not the only one she sees during her stay. Takes place a year before Lunafreya’s birth.

Also at AO3 & FF.net

“-you haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”

Cor scoffed. “I merely choose to focus on doing my job.”

Clarus arched a brow at that. Standard guard duty was below both of their station, but the Immortal had – for reasons beyond the King’s Shield’s comprehension – specifically requested to stand watch outside the audience chamber for the afternoon. “Because standing guard in an empty hall takes every ounce of your concentration.”

Cor ignored the older man’s comment and fixed his gaze on one of the detailed oil paintings hanging from the wall of Hall of History, belatedly realising the picture of his focus was none other than the famed Genesis. Involuntarily his steely blue eyes were drawn to the image of a fair woman perched on a fluffy cloud between a surly dark-skinned man and a bearded male with kind eyes. The woman looked nothing like whom she was supposed to represent; the skin wasn’t blue enough, the hair was too short and ordinary and her elegant pointed ears were nowhere to be seen. The only detail the artist had managed to get right was her lack of clothing.

Focusing on his duties – and Clarus’ chatter – was getting increasingly difficult knowing the woman in question was separated from him only by measly wooden double doors. Merely closing his eyes for a moment was enough to summon a memory of chilly fingertips tracing the scar on his chest. It didn’t matter that he had eyes wide open and ears perked for any suspicious activity outside the hall, the sensations from their last night together from two years ago had reawakened and now clouded his senses to the point he couldn’t quite distinguish what was real and what a daydream from the past.

Brushing the foolish musings aside, Cor blearily blinked at the painting and silently swore when he thought he saw the painted figure of Shiva turn her head ever so slightly to the side to expose her vulnerable neck to him, while the hand hovering over her left breast tantalizingly trailed the rosy skin in a teasing invitation. The 20-year-old man could feel blood warming the tips of his ears and forcefully willed the image of a very naked Astral out of his mind. Such thoughts bordered on blasphemy. Fortunately Clarus blocked his view on the painting, instantly snapping the young member of Crownsguard from his daydream.

“Should I make an appointment to the physician for you? You’ve been acting strangely and look a little feverish.” Dark brows furrowed in worry, casting shadows over the King’s Shield’s expressive blue eyes.

“No, I’m fine.” And he was. If only a little distracted.

Paying no mind to Clarus’ dubious frown, Cor focused on listening to the muffled voices coming from the next room. Besides King Regis’ warm yet authoritative timbre, he could hear the soft voice of a woman with an accent of which origins he couldn’t place anywhere in Eos. It was a voice he could recognise even among a crowd of thousands, for the way she spoke was like no other; her infinite patience ensured she never raised her voice or expressed any hint of anger or irritation, and while some may have claimed she spoke monotonously, he found her mild tone to be calming. He particularly liked the sound of his title coming from her painted lips.

Eyes hardening when realising his mind wandered yet again, Cor restlessly shifted his weight before swatting Clarus’ pestering palm away from his forehead with a glare.

“Really, Amicitia. I just skipped my morning coffee. I’m fine.” He hadn’t appreciated his companions’ unnecessary fussing when he had enlisted to the Crownsguard at the tender age of thirteen, he sure as hell didn’t appreciate it now as an adult.

Before the older man could continue the inane argument, the heavy wooden double doors opened. Instantly both men stood at attention, spines straight and tense. Followed by a clicking of high heels, a willowy figure of a woman clad in black emerged from the audience chamber. The familiar alluring scent of blueberries was enough to make Cor feel faint. She stopped before them once the doors were closed behind her and turned to address the men, expression serene even as her eyes remained hidden behind pink lids. Only the few long carpets covering the recently waxed floor of the Hall of History lessened the echo of her silvery voice.

“Master Amicitia.”

“My lady.” Clarus politely acknowledged her with a half-bow.

Eyelids framed by dark lashes opened to reveal moss green eyes that immediately fixed on the young guard. Heart hammering against his ribcage, Cor swallowed heavily and stared at the bridge of her slim nose in an attempt to keep himself composed. There was something about those mesmerising eyes that unerringly made his knees buckle under their sultry gaze, however with Clarus watching Cor couldn’t afford to show such weakness. He had worked so hard to get to where he was. If everything went according to plan, he would be promoted to a Lieutenant the coming year.

“Ah, and the Immortal himself. He has grown much since our first meeting near the Tempering Grounds. It is delightful to see him once more.” Cor didn’t miss the mischievous glint in her eye even as the painted lips curved to a misleadingly pleasant smile.

“Likewise”, was his curt reply, followed by a chaste kiss on the back of her offered gloveless hand. He let go of it to resume his post, but the Messenger had other ideas and looped her arm around his.

“I was led to believe by the king that the guard posted outside would escort me to my temporary quarters.”

“Oh.” The young soldier cast a questioning glance to his superior who nodded his assent. “Very well.”

They walked down the corridor in relative silence, her stilettos and his red-soled boots stepping on carpets and marble floor in synchronised harmony. At this proximity he could effortlessly distinguish the faint fragrance of fresh pinewood blending with her more prominent scent of blueberry shampoo. She was exactly how Cor remembered her from two years ago when he had been fighting at the Lucian border against the invading Niffs.

His sheathed katana lightly bumped against her hip as they took a turn.

“It is pleasing to see the Immortal still carries the blade gifted to him five years ago.”

“I’d be a fool to reject a weapon received from a divine spirit.”

Pleased with his words, Gentiana’s eyes crinkled with barely concealed joy and she lifted her satin encased hand to join the other one around his arm. Both elated and burdened by her affectionate gesture, Cor cleared his throat and continued to lead the charming woman.

He would never understand what the immortal being saw in a mere mortal such as him. Only fifteen years of age during their first meeting, he had escaped the Tempering Grounds in disgrace, unarmed and wounded. The kind, inhumanly beautiful spirit had tended to his wounds and given the Kotetsu he carried on his person to this day. It had no enhancements and wasn’t a technological achievement like Cid’s modified weapons, but its blade was sharp and the weapon’s balance fit his fighting style like a glove. It had yet to fail him in a battle and he doubted it ever would.

Throughout the next year Cor had caught brief glimpses of a dark-clad woman from the corner of his eye or a fleeting tranquil smile on a reflective surface. On the off-chance that Weskham or Clarus happened to snap a photo of him, they would often see a distant feminine figure in the background watching over him. Suffice to say Regis had been deeply puzzled by the strange phenomenon.

“I recognise her from the Cosmogony’s illustrations. It is the Messenger of the gods – Gentiana. Seems you have left quite the impression on her.”

Cor had been quick to brush such implausible speculations aside. However, a year later the two crossed paths again briefly, and while there was hardly anything romantic about the setting or timing, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sort of pull towards the ageless entity. At first the youngest member of the Crownsguard figured it was merely a subconscious desire to protect her, perhaps as a way to pay back the imaginary debt he believed owing to the Messenger. Except, one day he caught himself snapping photos of random sceneries and taking self-portraits in hopes of finding her gentle smile in the background.

Angry for not being able to shake off the baseless attraction, Cor had eagerly requested to be sent to the frontlines to distract himself from such unholy fantasies. Of course, that was merely an excuse to be at the brunt of Niflheim’s invasion. There was still the matter of tending to his wounded pride that had received a near fatal blow during his duel with Gilgamesh. He needed to redeem himself in his own eyes, if not in his liege’s – His Highness had always been too forgiving and gentle when Cor’s failures were concerned, most likely due to the soldier’s young age.

Unfortunately the Galahdan saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ seemed to apply to him more strongly than anticipated. Three years after their first meeting he was surrounded by Niff forces while covering his liege’s retreat and – if he was completely honest with himself – would have most likely perished if it wasn’t for Gentiana’s interference. After the battle one thing led to another and he found himself romantically involved with an Astral of all things. The more he thought about it, the less sense the whole affair made, but the ageless temptress had several very effective ways of muddling his logical thought.

When Cor had tried to point out his inevitable death and the heartbreak that might follow, she had merely trailed a light blue finger across the scar received from Gilgamesh and told him she wished to enjoy each fleeting joy life had to offer, whether it be the singing of a short-lived bird or the warmth of an equally short-lived mortal’s embrace. At that Cor was rendered speechless, but Gentiana had seemed fine with his silence and kept on exploring every inch of his shivering body.

Now two years later with nary a word exchanged, Cor was baffled to find his body responding to her closeness in equal fervour to their last night together. He couldn’t quite decide if he liked the sensation, similar to that of a glowing fire suffusing him.

‘Well. If I spontaneously combust, at least she'll be around to quench the flames’, Cor thought as a sardonic smirk threatened to curve his thin lips.

As they made a turn to pass through the royal gardens, he noticed Gentiana had shifted to walk closer to him, hip brushing against hip while her satin covered hands subtly massaged his arm. Thanks to the thick material of his Crownsguard uniform, Cor couldn’t really feel the sensual touch and was both relieved and disappointed.

Gentiana pulled them to a stop and removed her hands from his arm. “The king granted me permission to pick a flower from his garden as a sign of gratitude for conveying the will of Bahamut.”

“Seems a little cheap”, Cor muttered under his breath, but Gentiana heard him and chuckled as she knelt in front of the closest flowerbed.

“He offered me anything my heart desired as long as it was within his power to give, but unfortunately my wish is something I cannot have.” Moss green eyes cast a sly glance over her shoulder, making her escort fidget his hands in discomfort. Cor didn’t dare to make any assumptions, yet he couldn’t help but wonder what stood in the way of her desire. “Instead, I asked to be allowed to part with one of his flowers.”

Rising back on her feet, the ever present smile gracing her pink lips, Gentiana turned to face him. “Does the Immortal like flowers?”

‘Just the namesake of one’, Cor thought as he peered down into her glinting eyes and was pleased to note he now stood a good head taller than her compared to the previous times he had been looking up to her. Reaper damned heels and late growth spurts. “Sure, I guess.”

“Then I ask he choose one for me.”

Frowning, Cor surveyed the flowerbeds. Countless flowers in different shades of white, red, yellow and violet littered the garden, but none of them were what he was looking for. He could feel Gentiana’s amused gaze following his every step as he searched for a particular flower. Aesthetic flora had never really piqued his interest. Only herbs and such used in making curatives were worth the time investing in learning their names and characteristics, which was how he first came across a gentiana. According to the ‘Pharmacological Flora’ they were used in herbal medicine to treat digestive problems, fever, hypertension, muscle spasms, wounds and even parasitic worms. Both beautiful and practical. Cor sneaked a glance towards the still woman who waited patiently for his decision before quickly returning to scour the garden.

Finally his steely blue eyes settled on a small flowerbed with blue trumpet-shaped blossoms. Carefully he picked the biggest and most vibrant sample. Only the best would do, Cor was certain his liege would agree. Gentiana accepted the flower with a knowing smile.

“The Immortal’s actions speak louder than his words.”

Feigning ignorance, the soldier crossed his arms in defiance. “Not sure what you’re implying.”

A thin coating of ice covered the flower, encasing it like one of those snow globes he had seen in the windows of tourist shops. It wasn’t just an ugly blob of ice such as one could find in the nature, but beautifully sculptured like the most prized crystal. She closed her eyes and chanted something in an unknown language before handing the frozen flower to him.

“Should the Immortal ever falter on his life-long journey, he need not but glance at the frozen gentiana to regain his vigour.”

Cor fingered the flower in wonder. The ice wasn’t as cold as he had expected and it didn’t appear to melt between his warm hands. “You’re making it sound like I won’t be seeing you again.”

Closed lids opened to reveal her wistful green gaze. “The Oracle is expecting a child who will succeed her at a young age. The Messenger’s destiny is tied with the Chosen King’s respective oracle.”

“So, you’re moving to Tenebrae?”

She nodded. “Our meetings have been rare and brief, but I’ve come to treasure each fleeting moment. Once the Chosen King is born, so shall the Immortal have his hands full fulfilling his duty to his king.”

Cor pocketed the flower and boldly took her delicate hands in his. “Be that as it may, I’d still make time for you.”

Slim fingers interlaced with his and her fair features lit up in a smile that warmed him more than the summer heat ever could. “Then we shall meet again, whether it be in another two years or two decades.”

A faint smile graced the taciturn soldier’s serious features, his customary piercing glare softening as his gaze dropped from hers to the invitingly plump lips. Inhaling her seductive scent and losing himself in the tender moment, Cor dipped his head down to capture the soft, pink lips in a gentle kiss. Her response was immediate; she removed her hands from his and let the smooth satin caress the nape of his neck and the newly grown stubble while her lips eagerly moved against his.

Calloused hands fumbled for the choker that hid her pale throat from him. She instinctively arched her neck in submission, granting access for the tip of his nose to teasingly caress her vulnerable skin. A surge of passion rushed through Cor’s entire being when his lips found the woman’s quickened pulse. He was amazed how willingly the immortal entity was ready to place her trust so fully in a flawed man such as him. Gentiana’s trust was even more precious to him than the katana and the enchanted flower she had given to him with the intention of protecting him, knowing full well how easily mortal lives could be snuffed out.

Realising the royal garden was not the right place for such intimate acts, Cor regretfully pulled his warm, swollen lips away from his lover’s neck. Steam blew out of his nostrils as he exhaled. He had learnt years ago that Gentiana’s kisses tended to leave him with a cold breath, but the minor discomfort only made him crave for the contact all the more.

Her pink lids remained closed even after he stepped away from the Messenger’s embrace. The serene smile was gone, replaced by the smallest of pouts. “Is it a common occurrence within the Citadel for the guard to get so distracted when escorting a guest to her quarters?”

Rolling his eyes, Cor pecked her on the cheek before offering his arm to her once more. “Not my fault our esteemed guest is a shameless enchantress.”

They sat on cushions by the hearth, bathed in its dim light. Gentiana’s thigh-high stilettos leant against the door of Cor’s quarters next to his own Crownsguard’s boots, while her white shawl and black satin gloves had been discarded over the back of a chair. Cor had changed out of his uniform in favour of something more comfortable and casual as it turned out the Messenger had requested more than a mere flower from the king of Lucis.

“I can’t believe you asked His Majesty to grant me the rest of the day off. I’m beginning to think you had all of this planned out from the start”, Cor mumbled and buried his lips in her raven locks. Knowing Gentiana was a clairvoyant, he wouldn’t be surprised if that turned out to be true. The only response he received from the content woman was one slim finger lightly tickling the arm that held her lithe body snuggly against his, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

The weight of her head on his shoulder and the sweet scent of her perfume invading his nostrils felt like… home – as if she was made to be nestled beneath his arms. Or considering who existed first, perhaps he was made for her and that was why the divine spirit had been so adamant to get involved in his life. Gentiana’s mere proximity was turning him into a lovelorn fool. Shaking his head in exasperation, Cor removed his other arm from her hip and let it trail down the shapely stocking-clad thigh. She stirred under his sensuous touch and pulled her lidded gaze from the glow of dying embers to study his face.

“Yes.”

The off-duty soldier frowned, puzzled. “What?”

His breath hitched when he saw her eyes dilate with desire, the splash of maroon surrounding her pupils becoming more prominent.

“When witnessing the young Lucian warrior escaping the wrath of the Blademaster, it was revealed he would become someone special to me.” Cor was so distracted by the sudden change in Gentiana’s tone and body language that he nearly missed her softly uttered last words.

“Ah.”

Neither of them were exactly sentimental or direct when it came down to their deepest feelings, so hearing her unexpected confession felt as impactful as one would have felt hearing a gasped “I love you” in the throes of passion.

Gentiana shifted in his arms and pulled his head down to indulge in a heated kiss. Their mouths wrestled for dominance with neither participant willing to compromise. Her cool fingers disappeared beneath his shirt, travelling up and down the athletic upper body. Instantly recognising the game and not wishing to finish second, Cor began to work on undoing her elegantly embroidered corset. It came off easily enough, but his lover had already stripped him from his shirt. With a frustrated growl, he began to work on removing her dress only to halt when his fingers found an edge of something hard beneath the expensive fabric.

Lips still locked, his query came out as an incoherent rumble in the back of his throat. Gentiana pulled back, cheeks slightly flushed and fingers tangled in his short brown hair before casting a curious glance down to her breast where his hand touched the foreign object. Looping her arms out of the fur-trimmed sleeves, the dress fell off her body to reveal a risqué bra made of silver. Cor instantly recognised it as the ‘outfit’ – and he uses the term very loosely – that Shiva wore. The cups of the bra had detailed, decorative carvings and the strings that held the flimsy piece of undergarments together were threaded with blue and silver beads.

“I see you’re still wearing that”, he managed to say.

Gentiana arched an eyebrow and shifted in his lap. “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all. Just strange seeing you in it.”

Frost began to spread all over her body, altering the fair skin into pale blue while her remaining black stockings faded into white, barely noticeable snowflake patterns that covered the full length of her shapely legs. Her jet-black hair morphed into thick, light blue braids that twisted into a hairstyle Cor doubted he’d be seeing on any sane human during his lifetime. Unmelting spikes of ice poked between her hairs to form a crown of sorts. Around her neck was a choker made of silver and on her leaf-shaped ear was a matching earring. She wore similarly themed anklets and spiked silver knuckle-guards. What Cor considered to be the only pieces of proper clothing on her were transparent ribbons that floated around her as if suspended in zero gravity.

Cor had seen her in this form before, yet he couldn’t help but feel a little unsettled and out of his depth as the ice goddess gently pushed him to lie on his back and straddled him, the unnaturally braided hair framing her inhumanly flawless face.

“It does not matter which form wears the cloth. It is still the same person”, she spoke quietly.

Swallowing his remark about silver undergarments not qualifying as cloth, Cor experimentally lifted his hand to cradle her cool cheek and smiled faintly when Shiva closed her dark purple eyes and leant into his touch. She was definitely the same. Messenger, Astral… Messenger possessed by an Astral. It didn’t matter to him. As far as Cor was concerned, she was one and the same and he worshipped every aspect of her.

He surprised the off-guard woman by pulling her down to his chest and rolling over to lie on top. Dazedly the Glacian peered up in his hooded eyes, emotions rapidly flickering in her pupilless eyes. She appeared almost… vulnerable. Deciding to set her unfounded fears to rest, Cor pressed his lips against her chilly, blue ones. The young soldier was so caught in the exhilarating feeling of her hands roaming over his skin and the overpoweringly numbing cold of her kiss that he didn’t notice when the rest of his clothes were removed or when she slipped off her silver undergarments. For appearing so flimsy and unpractical, they turned out to be more complex to remove than anticipated.

“For what it’s worth… I’m glad you seduced me.” He received a humorous bite on his lip for his impudence.

The embers of the hearth had died, but the fire in his heart was ablaze stronger than ever.

Clarus turned to stare when Cor arrived to the guard room. “It’s midsummer and you’re dressed like you intend to go wage war against Niffs in the northern border during winter time.”

Cor said nothing and adjusted the woollen scarf around his neck. He was frozen to the very bones and shivering from an unnatural cold. Minor hindrances aside, his time with the ice goddess was well worth the side effects. Much to his joy Gentiana had decided to stay another week in the Citadel to “study ancient Lucian history” – as if she hadn’t lived through such times and didn’t know every historical fact in detail – claiming there was still time before she would be needed in the Fenestala manor. He was already looking forward to the end of his shift.

“Where do you intend to stay tonight?” Cor had asked while escorting Gentiana to the library before starting his day.

Her lips had quirked with a playful grin. “Take a guess.”

“Based on past experience you’ll go to your assigned quarters and sneak into mine in the middle of the night.”

The short hairs in the back of his neck had stood erect when she invaded his personal space and whispered in a rather sultry voice in his ear: “Correct. Name your prize.”

Cor snapped out of the brief daydream when he felt a warm palm on his forehead for the second time that week.

“Reaper, Cor! Have you been His Majesty’s target for blizzard casting practise or did you take a nap in a freezer?”

“More like slept with a freezer”, Cor muttered into the thick fabric of his scarf while keeping his features carefully neutral.

#ffxv fanfiction #cor leonis #gentiana #shiva #cor x gentiana #cor x shiva #cor/gentiana #cor/shiva #cortiana #genor

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thetoxicstrawberry · 8 years ago

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I didn’t feel like drawing yesterday, so I finally sat down and wrote the first chapter of the MadaKaka fic that I’ve had outlined. It’s not super long, but I haven’t written much in the past year.

@madakaka

Summary: An alternate universe in which Madara survives the war and spends his days flirting with irritating the Hokage.

The Price of Atonement

Ch. 1: Limbo

“He’s doing it again,” Kotetsu said, leaning in so he wouldn’t be heard.

Izumo nodded, “third time this week. I wonder what he’s thinking.”

“All I know is it gives me the creeps.”

Izumo pushed at his sleeves. Even sheltered by the shade of the awning, the heat of summer was overwhelming and sweat pooled under his thick shinobi garb.

Despite the temperature, he stood in the full sunlight, unmoving. Only a few feet from the open gate, arms crossed tight against his chest, decked out in long sleeves and full battle armor: Uchiha Madara.

“How long has it been?” Kotetsu asked.

“An hour and 45 minutes.”

“Should we tell the Hokage?”

Izumo shook his head, “No, he’ll just tell us to ignore him again.”

“Ah man,” Kotetsu moaned, running a quick hand through his hair. “How does he expect us to do that? I mean, look at him. If I didn’t know he was a person I would swear that he…”

A sharp jab to the ribs cut him off mid-sentence.

Izumo, gestured with wide eyes to where Madara stood, his neck turned and his eyes staring vacantly at the two shinobi guards.

“I’m taking my leave now,” he said. His voice low and even. “Go ahead and forewarn the counterfeit Hokage that I mean to have words with him.”

Madara then turned back and began leisurely walking towards the village center.

The two shinobi held their breath until his body retreated out of their sight.

“Thank the heavens,” Kotetsu sighed. “I thought he would never leave. Do you think we should notify Kakashi-sama?”

Izumo shook his head. “Naw, I figure if we had to deal with him, he should too.”

It had been one year since the end of the war. When the five armies converged against Uchiha Obito and Madara had thwarted death twice. Once with the help of the Rinnegan and the second when the Sage of the Six Paths, in an act he called “mercy,” but Madara deemed punishment, had granted him another chance at redemption.

Afterwards, he had spent months caged in a cell beside the Uchiha brat, who no matter the provocation, refused to provide him with any sort of entertainment to pass the long hours. Leaving Madara with too much time for rumination. He cursed Obito, Zetsu, and the day he laid eyes on that stone tablet, but most of all, he cursed himself for being stupid enough to fall for Kaguya’s scheme.

Death would have been a mercy, but Madara was too proud to end his life himself.

When the day finally came, and Sasuke was released, Madara had resigned himself to a life of quiet imprisonment. Then three months ago, that sharingan sham-artist had come skipping down into the prison to announce himself Hokage and proclaim that Madara had been deemed safe enough to reenter the village. Under the stipulation that he could never leave.

Ever.

This meant a seal was placed on him that provided a swift and shocking blow to his system, which rendered him unconscious should he ever try to breach the village walls. Madara knew this because he’d tried it. Twelve times by his count. And each time he’d woken up in the hospital to the Hokage’s mocking eye smiles.

“Dara-chan, one of these days you’re going to learn.”

It wasn’t just the seal. The seal Madara could live with, it was the second part of his curse that made his life intolerable. The Senju woman had told him it was pathway damage to his chakra system, brought on by being the ten-tailed jinchuuriki. The resulting scarring to his chakra stream often caused painful misfirings when the energy could no longer flow due to a blockage, but instead had to slowly dissipate back into his system.

He never let the agony of it show. Sometimes it was excruciating, coming on quick in sharp bursts of fire running through his limbs and deep into his belly, but mostly it remained a dull ache that settled right under his skin.

That insufferable woman had called it “untreatable” and “permanent.”

In a way, Madara knew he should be grateful. He had been given a chance to live on and make amends for the destruction he caused, but it left him…what did that Uchiha brat call it?

Oh yes, helpless as a kitten.

But Madara was no kitten. His reputation still garnered him power and he was reminded of this as people brushed him with fearful glances as they moved aside.

He smirked. If he was going to be stuck in purgatory, then he might as well enjoy it.

Kakashi slipped a sheet of paper from the large stack on his desk, his eyes blurred a moment from the strain of reading all day. He took a sip of coffee that had long since gone cold, just as the door to his office swung open and Madara strode in.

He sighed, not even bothering to hide his exasperation. “Madara.”

“Imposter,” the word sounded too formal coming from his mouth, stripping it slightly of his intention.

“What is it now? Where kids throwing rocks at you again?”

An eyebrow twitch, the only indication that Kakashi’s words had irritated the Uchiha.

“No,” Madara said. “But since you addressed the issue, I want to clarify that in my day, children who did not obey were severely punished. The leniency given to these youths is why shinobi have…”

“Madara,” Kakashi interjected. “Where’s Sasuke?”

“How should I know? He’s the one tasked with watching me, not the other way around.”

It was true, Sasuke was supposed to be guarding him during Madara’s active hours. Even though he could no long mold chakra, Kakashi wasn’t foolish enough to allow him to wander the village unmonitored. Madara was wily and persistent once he set a goal. Not even death had stopped him the last time he set his mind to something.

No, Kakashi would never make the mistake of underestimating him.

It was part of Sasuke’s probation to watch over Madara, despite the protest of the council who thought it daft to assign an Uchiha with guarding another Uchiha. Kakashi’s reasoning for tasking him with the duty was multifaceted. His official statement was Sasuke was one of two individuals within the village that had enough power to subdue Madara, in the unlikely event that he regained control of his chakra, and would be less easily manipulated than Naruto.

Kakashi also saw that it gave Sasuke a purpose within the village, while providing the impression of protecting the citizens of Konoha from a greater threat than he himself was, and proving that Sasuke put the needs of the village above his loyalty to his clan.

Plus, he knew it really pissed Sasuke off.

Kakashi didn’t doubt that he was nearby. He typically didn’t stray far, keeping close enough to watch the Uchiha elder, with enough space that he couldn’t annoy him. Kakashi didn’t blame Sasuke. If he could seal the Hokage door the same way the gate was to prohibit Madara from entering, he would. But Kakashi knew that the wild Uchiha would just find other ways to get his attention. He only wished that Sasuke would keep a tighter hold on him.

“Did you need something?” Kakashi asked. “Or have you just missed seeing me?”

The Uchiha paused, his eyes boring down at Kakashi, before saying, “I was standing at the gate, trying to decide if you are deliberately inept at your job or simply too stupid to see your shortcomings.”

“And?” Kakashi asked, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. “You concluded?”

“I couldn’t decide. Those two idiots kept interrupting my thoughts with their girlish chatter.”

Kakashi could feel a headache coming on but consciously stopped himself from rubbing at his temples. He knew it aggravated Madara when he remained calm during his fits and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he tested his patience.

“If Kotetsu and Izumo irritate you, then maybe you should stop spending so much time with them.”

Another flash of anger flickered on Madara’s brows, before he continued, “My point is, it has come to my attention, that even though you were not the one who shackled me to the god forsaken plane, you are still my warden. And as my warden, you have neglected to see to it that my talents be utilized.”

Kakashi blinked, once, then twice, and leaned back into his chair.

“What I’m hearing is....you’re bored?”

Madara threw two gloved hands up.

“Oh course I’m bored. There is nothing to do in this shit hole village.”

“The village that you helped create.”

Madara stumbled for a second, mouth slightly agape, before regaining his composure.

“Nonetheless, you will either find something to entertain me or I swear to you, I will find ways to entertain myself. And I assure you, you will not like it.”

#madara #kakashi #madakaka #naruto #au #fanfiction #I'm sure there are errors #my writing is rusty #moody madara #making kakashi's job even harder #how not to seduce the hokage #my writings

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siilbern · 8 years ago

Text

@nonviiolent

“Haschwalth. Your wounds have healed enough for you to be transferred to detention. Get up.”

Quiet fell over the hospital ward as the six cloaked escorts strode in the doorway and halted at the foot of his bed, resting the ends of their tridentlike spirit weapons on the stone floor. The awkwardly tall woman kneeling at the bedside a few rows away from his own paused in wrapping a bandage around a gash in her patient’s remaining leg, her mouth half open as if she was suspended in the space between thinking something and saying it. A few patients opened their eyes and lifted their heads to stare. Presumably, penal officers weren’t a common sight here.

Abruptly breaking from her seeming state of indecision, the lieutenant temporarily secured the head of the bandage and stood up, clearing her throat to get their attention. “It’s unlikely that the incision has completely healed yet, so we were planning on keeping him under supervision f--”

“The commander-in-chief of the Onmitsukidō has ordered us to transfer the prisoner to detention.”

They didn’t wait for the lieutenant’s confirmation before turning their attention back to him. “Get up.”

She moved closer, straightening her normally slumped shoulders as she approached. Kotetsu remained silent until no more than a foot was left between her and the figure that had answered her objection, keeping her voice low when she did speak up. “Have you asked the Captain-Commander about this? Or is this just your Captain acting on her own accord?”

Jugram disregarded the escalating conflict and the increasing number of stares from the other residents of the ward to focus his attention on retrieving the hospital provided waraji on the floor beneath the edge of the bed and slipping them onto his socked feet. If he hesitated until this was resolved, they undoubtedly would interpret it as an act of resistance.

“Orders are orders, Lieutenant.”

“Is the captain who issued them aware that we operated on his heart?”

They ignored her. Jugram stood carefully, balancing himself with a white-knuckled grasp on the metal bedrail as he adjusted to the slight lightheadedness inherent to standing after spending most of one’s time in a hospital bed. In almost perfect sync, four of the six guards lifted their hands and produced cables of reishi between them and the heavy red collar that rested against his throat.

“Hands behind your back.”

The woman’s harsh stare radiated disapproval as Jugram crossed one wrist over the other behind himself and allowed the shortest of the guards to lash them together. They proceeded to drape a loose white cloth over his head, an opaque garment reminiscent of a hangman’s hood. It fell to the level of his upper lip, covering his face and eyes while simultaneously still allowing him to watch his feet by looking down; presumably, this was simply because stumbling would inconvenience the armed escorts.

“He can’t exert himself,” the lieutenant persisted, although a slight air of resignation had begun to creep into her voice. “He is recovering from heart surgery.” She paused briefly, then added in a tone lower and more threatening than he’d been aware it had the potential to be, “I’ll be speaking to the Captain-Commander about this.”

They ignored her.

Haschwalth silently counted the paces as they crossed the city, well-aware of the low chatter starting to build in the streets. Prisoners weren’t an uncommon sight following the end of a war, but he strongly suspected that the Soul Society was taking a tellingly higher amount of precautions in his case, regardless of the fact that His Majesty’s Auswählen had completely stripped him of any power that would constitute a significant danger to them. Based on this display, it wouldn’t be difficult for a casual observer to come to the conclusion that he had been in some kind of command position.

He held his head high as they walked. He was unafraid of death, unafraid of them, and he intended to make that clear, even in his last days (or hours). The pride of the Quincies was unwavering, and he would be damned if he allowed them to forget as much.

Jugram had counted their strides into the hundreds by the time the guards stopped and removed the veil covering his face. The sight that greeted him was abysmal: an empty stone cell separated from the barren corridors by tall, thick black metal bars and the dense barrier of reishi woven between them like the splints of a basket. The only natural light in the building entered through a narrow floor-to-ceiling gap in the opposite wall, from which he and the now-deceased former residents of this same enclosure could stare out at a high scaffold on the edge of a distant cliff.

“It’s called the Sokyoku,” one of the masked figures said, following his gaze. “Prisoners in the repentance cell are allowed to watch it in the days leading up to their execution while they contemplate what they’ve done.”

The shortest of the six lifted their hand and the metal door to the cell slid open, harshly scraping across the stone floor. “Get in.” As if I’m going to refuse.

The door slammed behind him as soon as he entered. His captors unbound his wrists once it had closed, but the weighty collar stayed on. Are you really that afraid of me?

“Enjoy the view,” said the guard standing behind the shortest, a telltale smile in her voice. “You’ll be ashes in a few days, you piece of shit.” Such a statement was undoubtedly a breach in military conduct, but the other five didn’t seem to care. They simply turned and left, loudly shutting the tremendous metal door to the outside world behind them. Only he and the silence and the darkness remained.

What a barbaric way to perform executions, Jugram thought to himself as moved closer to the crudely constructed window and stared out at the hill. How the thing was supposed to work wasn’t entirely clear, but given the long, hinged blade standing erect a short distance away from it, he assumed that it was some sort of guillotine. The other alternative was similarly primitive: the wooden structure was a tremendous gallows, just like the ones used to hang murderers and thieves when he was a young man.

It didn’t come as much of a surprise that the Shinigami would choose a prolonged killing over the swift beheadings or rapid exsanguination the Wandenreich allowed their criminals and traitors. They had already demonstrated the limitless sadism they reserved for anyone they deemed an enemy, whether the ‘enemy’ be civilians or former comrades who had for one reason or another strayed from the fold. On top of that, their lack of real mettle had become quite apparent during the invasion. It made sense that the same people would be unable to personally lift a sword against an unarmed criminal, especially when the cruel option was the easier of the two.

Lift a sword against a criminal--as he himself had done without hesitation. A touch of... something, something unpleasant twisted in Haschwalth’s chest, far beneath the still-aching sternum Kurotsuchi had cracked open to bring him back from the brink of an honorable death in the interest of securing for the Soul Society the pleasure of killing him themselves. The feeling was nebulous, dark, like a fog somewhere within the numbness brought on by His Majesty’s death. There was no point in thinking about any of it, so he didn’t, instead sinking back into the absent stupor that had filled most of his hours of late as he carefully lowered himself onto the stone bench against the cell’s right wall. What else was there to do? His Majesty was dead. Bazz was dead. The Schatten Bereich almost certainly would be destroyed.

And they thought he had a reason to fear death.

Idly, Jugram wondered if the lieutenant running the hospital ward would be fool enough to try and argue with whoever controlled the penal system as to whether or not he was in any condition to be moved. Certainly there was still pain, a slight discomfort from the shallow rise and fall of his chest alone, but ultimately, it didn’t matter. He was a drain on their medical resources in the aftershock of a war, and he was undoubtedly slated to die regardless. Her job had been futile on a larger scale from the beginning, if she’d come to perceive it as anything other than holding off death until they were able to kill him on their own time.

He’d debated beating them to it during the first few days he had spent bedridden; in many ways, killing himself would be an act of resistance, the last way he could oppose them. You have captured me, but I won’t let you have the pleasure of killing me: such had been the logic. He didn’t, however - as appealing as this final gesture of spite was, Jugram also recognized that it would be seen as cowardice from their highest-ranking military officer. For the honor of the Wandenreich and for the pride of the Quincies, it would be better to display courage in the face of death and die unflinchingly, a final demonstration of fearlessness from a race that would presumably cease to exist within a few months.

Remember this, it would say.

Remember us.

Remember that we died resisting, not hiding in the shadows.

His thoughts were interrupted by the loud scrape of the tower’s outermost door sliding open and the sudden intrusion of bright light from the free world. The glow reduced the figure in the wide doorway to a silhouette, but it was an immediately recognizable - tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a wide straw hat. The Captain-Commander, as he’d expected.

“You’ve come to inform me of my sentence,” Jugram said, without any particular inflection.

#« era ; the coldest hour »#GOD this is a dissertation i'm so sorry #tw suicidal ideation #very briefly

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