#i only want to show off tomo there but those two are a set. do not separate

[visionkept]

MODERN AU, casual wear. ━━ ( by Merueki ).

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Burn For You

Word Count: 5856 Genre: Smut Rating: E Characters: Uchiha Madara, fem!Senju Tobirama, Uzumaki Mito (briefly) Ship: Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama Warnings: Unprotected Sex Author's Note: You can read it on my ao3 here! This was inspired by Burn For You by Abigail Barlow! It suits Tobirama and Madara really well, imo. Also, this was just fourteen pages of smut. I hope you all enjoy this! ━━━━━━━━━━━━ It all started with a confession.

“I burn for you.”

The admission had taken her off guard. She’d agreed to stay behind after a meeting, going over the development plans for the Nara clan to settle in the North Eastern part of the village outside of the gates so that their deer would have plenty of space to roam and not fear the wrath of hunters. Madara had additional ideas that needed to be looked at by a different pair of eyes- constructive criticism before presenting it officially to the council. The night had grown long, the candles burned so long that they were more melted wax than actual candles. She’d ended up sitting atop the table, her legs crossed as she read over Madara’s ideas, comparing them with her brother’s. Truth be told, Hashirama seemed to be distracted- his plans were barely finished, whereas Madara’s were completely finalized. It was nice to see work actually getting done.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just think you actually fancy me, Uchiha,” Tobirama had taunted, a smirk curling wine colored lips as she glanced over. However, unlike their normal banter, he hadn’t responded. “... That was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh now. Ha-ha.” She mumbled, lips turning down into a pout as she turned her gaze back to the papers.

“Senju.” His voice was soft, low- nearly resembling a growl as he stepped closer. Instinctually, her legs spread slightly, the cloth of her kimono parting with the movement, feet barely meeting the ground. Prepared to run, to bolt, Madara noticed. Or perhaps to fight, with how her hands gripped the edge of the table. “You’re a nuisance, you realize that, yes?”

“A nuisance?!” She exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. “You've some nerve, calling me- what are you doing?” All heat vanished as he settled between her spread thighs, his hands braced upon the wood of the table on either side of her hips. “Madara, are you ill? Is something the matter?” A hand reached up to touch her wrist to his forehead to see if he’d come down with a fever, only for his hand to capture it-

And press a searing kiss to her wrist.

“I burn for you,” he murmured against the pale skin, lips brushing so gently, delicately- as if afraid that the mere movement would cause her pain. “I burn for you, day in and day out.”

“Madara-” her voice was barely above a whisper, chest rising and falling quickly as her heart began to race. When he looked up at her, her breath halted all together: three black tomoe stood out against ruby irises, yet she could not look away. Heat gathered in her cheeks- and lower, much lower, to her own embarrassment. “This is- inappropriate.” Even so, she did not pull her hand away.

She leaned closer.

That is, until the sound of footsteps approaching had Madara backing away, Tobirama cradling her wrist delicately as the door opened, revealing Mito. “Pardon the intrusion,” she murmured, giving a small bow. “My husband forgot his files, and instead of coming back himself, he sent me.” A sharp roll of the eyes showed her annoyance, even if her smile was soft.

“You could have told him to fuck off,” Tobirama stated simply, shoulders rising in a shrug.

Mito let out a bark of laughter at her sister-in-law. “I think that would have given him a heart attack!” Shaking her head, she flashed the pair a smile before turning on her heel. “Don’t work too late, you two.”

“We won’t,” Madara called after her, though his gaze was trained on Tobirama. The only way she could describe what she saw in his gaze was hunger. Pure hunger.

A fire had been started- and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to douse the flames, or fan them.

“We should… Head home for the night, yes?” Tobirama asked, scooting off of the top of the table to settle her feet on the floor once more, gathering her scrolls. She could sense Madara lingering behind her, yet he did not touch. His gaze was akin to their famed fireball jutsu, scorching the back of her neck. “Do get some rest, Madara.”

“You as well,” Madara murmured, though he made no move to follow her out of the door. Her footsteps were calm at first, until she was outside of the Hokage’s office. Only then did she sprint, pressing chakra into her legs to make her move faster, to get back to the Senju compound quicker. Alone, she needed to be alone to process what just occurred. ━━━━━━━━━━━━ That had been a fortnight ago. Ever since, she’d been busy overseeing the building of the Nara compound while Madara saw to his own clan, making sure they were comfortable as the Uchiha compound began to expand. And every night since, her thoughts had been consumed with the feeling of his lips against her skin, his gaze boring into her own, the feeling of his hips settled between her thighs-

A sharp shake of the head causes wild snowy locks to sway with the movement. Not now, not while she’s reading reports. Even so, her foot tapped on the floor, a movement that spoke volumes of her unease, her need to get up, to demand to know why he’d done it. His office was across from her own. All she’d need to do is rise from her desk, walk across the hall, and demand an answer.

Burn for you.

The words held weight, especially for an Uchiha- known for their innate ability to control fire. To burn for someone is to be completely overwhelmed by the flames of passion, of lust. To think only of them.

Her thighs pressed together beneath her desk.

“Fuck,” she groaned, leaning back in her chair, head flopping back as her eyes closed. This was annoying, she decided. A nuisance. Yet, the Uchiha had kept her thoughts entertained. The night prior had been spent with her face pressed to her pillow, her hand between her thighs, working herself over and wishing it had been something much thicker.

The current bane of her existence knocked on the door before opening it, his gaze settled upon the paper he held. “Did you know that Hashirama put in for an expansion of the Senju compound?” He asked, annoyance clear in his voice as Tobirama forced herself to focus.

“I had no idea,” she replied dryly, her brow furrowing. “We don’t need more space. We’ve got plenty already.” Her gaze drifted, studying Madara for a moment. He wore no armor- they never did when in office. The summer yukata did little to hide what lay beneath.

Perhaps that was why her underlings were so distracted.

“Hm,” a sigh escaped his lips as he set the paper down onto her desk, only to pause for a moment. “Can we speak?”

“We’re speaking now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit clearer.”

“About what I said.” Madara caved, shaking his head at the Senju. “It was uncalled for, and I was out of pocket-”

“Tonight,” Tobirama cut in, raising a hand, causing Madara to pause. “Meet me in my quarters tonight, and we will talk about what you said. Not now- I’m busy.”

“Busy.” He repeated, gaze trailing over the stack of papers to be signed. “Right. Tonight, then.”

“Tonight,” Tobirama agreed, her gaze never lifting from her paper. “You’re dismissed.”

“Dismissed?! I-”

“Out of my office, Uchiha.” She snapped, feeling a touch smug as Madara turned on his heel and marched out, all but slamming the door on his way out. A snort escaped her as she leaned back. Tonight, they would speak. Tonight, the truth would come out- one way or another.

The day had passed quickly, leaving her spinning in the aftermath. Tobirama drug a hand through her hair, down from it’s normal high ponytail, the wild, curling tresses free for once. Her footsteps carried her across the room in a quick pace, her heart a staccato beat within her chest. Any moment now, she’d be able to feel the familiar flicker of Madara’s chakra entering the compound. To the East, Mito sat with Hashirama- no doubt the pair beginning to bed down for the night.

There, at the southern edge- the flicker of warmth, of red-tinged chakra that felt like standing too close to a bonfire. Her breath skipped a beat as she turned, studying her reflection in the mirror across from her bed. The sleeping yukata did little to give modesty. In a last moment effort to try to compose herself, she snags a robe and quickly ties it around her waist.

The sound of footsteps had her turning, studying the door the moment before it opened, revealing Madara. “Right on time,” she commented idly as she reached back, pulling her hair out from beneath the robe, inadvertently causing the fabric of both robe and sleeping yukata to rise.

“I hope it’s not too late?” Madara asks, head tilting, gaze drifting to the pale skin that was revealed. The barest hint of red on those thighs- did the tattoos stretch that far down? “I’m afraid I was caught up in clan business.”

“Not too late at all,” Tobirama replies with a shake of her head. “Please, come in- close the door, too?” She adds as an afterthought, moving to where she’d set up sakazuki. Her room was nice- it got the morning sun, and the afternoon shade, causing it to be cooler compared to the other sections of the compound’s main house.

Madara walked over to the low table, settling down into an improper sitting position, crossing his legs. Tobirama settles across from him, easing herself into a polite seiza, though the yukata and robe part to reveal how her thighs press together. Such pale skin… “I’m surprised you would even want to meet to discuss what was said,” he commented idly, head tilting as his gaze tracked her movements; sake was poured first for him, and then for herself. “I’d figured you’d want to ignore it.”

“Why ignore it,” she asked as she raised her sakazuki to her lips, careful not to spill a single drop, “when it’s the truth for myself as well?”

Madara nearly choked on the sake- and not from the taste. “Pardon?” He asked, blinking rapidly. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“How did you phrase it?” Tobirama’s head tilts, her gaze narrowing, ruby hues settling upon Madara’s face- flushed, eyes wide, caught off guard. “I burn for you.”

“You burn for me?”

“I burn.”

“You… Burn,” he murmured, gaze growing heavy- hungry. “For me.”

“I burn, day in and day out,” she nodded, sipping her sake once more. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t envisioned you in my quarters.”

A moment of silence passed before Madara was reaching across the table, taking hold of the collar of her yukata to tug her over, their lips meeting in a kiss that was equally teeth and lips. Biting, hungry, her hands reached up to tangle in wild dark locks, tugging none-too-gently. A groan spilled free from Madara as he pulled back, her lip caught between his teeth in a gentle bite before he released her.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve pictured this moment,” his words were barely above a growl as Tobirama rose to her feet, the robe discarded, the collar of her yukata disheveled, baring a pale collarbone and shoulder. “How many times I’ve thought of you in my own quarters.”

“I think mine are more comfortable,” she teases as she settles atop his lap, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her nails gently scraping at the back of his neck. “After all, my bed is made to fit… Multiple.”

Multiple. Oh. Madara’s gaze grows distant as he envisions just what she insinuated for a moment, lips parting slightly. “Multiple.”

“Come now- you didn’t take me for a prude, did you?” She murmured, leaning in to kiss along his jaw, lips trailing up to his left ear. “After all, you just admitted that you’ve thought of me. Tell me, Madara- what have you thought of? What positions?” The shell of his ear is nipped before he reaches up, gripping her jaw to tug her head back.

“Do you truly want to know?” He asks, leaning back as if surveying her. His other hand reached up to brush her hair back from her face before his fingers began to drift, tracing the collar of her yukata slowly, gently nudging the fabric to cause it to fall back, baring more pale skin and red ink.

Such flimsy things, yukata.

“Senju Tobirama wants to hear how I’ve thought of her at night?” His fingers leave her jaw to brush knuckles gently against her cheek. “How I’ve thought of her on her knees beneath my desk, her lips around my cock? Or how I’ve pictured her laying on her back, pleasuring herself in front of me?” His lips quirked into a smirk as Tobirama whined softly at that, her eyes fluttering shut. “Or how I’ve spent so many nights picturing you laying beneath me, begging for my cock, begging for me to fuck you harder, faster?”

“Please,” she whispered, eyes opening into slits, her cheeks flushed. “My fingers could never be enough.”

Fingers. Her fingers? Oh- oh, a groan spilled free as he leaned in, stealing a kiss that had Tobirama’s head swimming. His hands smoothed down her back, pulling her closer, causing her to rise onto her knees. No words were exchanged as his hands slipped to grip her thighs, holding her up as he rose to his knees, then his feet.

Huh. Tobirama pulled back from the kiss to glance down at the floor for a moment. “... One day, take me against the wall.” She spoke quietly, as if to herself, though it got a chuckle out of Madara as he carried her to her bed.

It was large, he noted- larger than his own. “Anywhere you want,” he murmured as he settled her down, not bothering to part as his lips began to kiss and bite a scorching trail down her neck. “Your office, mine- my compound- wherever you want, just say the word.” A soft moan filled the air as his hand came up to settle atop her left breast, gently massaging through the fabric of the yukata. Her hands tangle in his hair as she keens, her eyes closed, head tilted back against the pillows. He pulled back long enough to make quick work of the tie that held the yukata together before parting the thin fabric, baring Tobirama to the chill of the room. She doesn’t cover herself.

No, her legs settle down against the silken sheets. Nothing beneath. Oh, she’d been prepared for this! The realization draws a chuckle from him as his hands smooth across her thighs, marveling at the way the red ink settles into her skin. Her chest- oh, how it encircles both breasts, ending in a circle in the center of chest. The bands around her biceps, encircling her shoulders, how they encircle her throat. That’s why she preferred the high mandarin collars. The ink stretches further down, encircling both thighs. His fingers trace their paths, drawing forth gentle shudders that dance across her skin.

“Beautiful,” Madara whispers, leaning down to press a kiss in the center of the circle that laid upon her chest. “Every inch.”

“Who knew you’d be a sap?” Tobirama teased, though the flush in her cheeks gave away how affected she was by his ministrations- and the slickness between her thighs.

She receives no verbal response; instead, he continues to kiss a trail lower, feeling her stomach tense beneath his lips. A smile curls them as he glances up, meeting her gaze the same moment his tongue lolls out, dragging a slow trail back up towards her chest. His lips enclose around her right nipple as his fingers begin to toy with the left, pinching gently the same time his teeth graze against the other.

“I always- oh- knew you had a thing for breasts,” Tobirama snickers before flinching at the swat he gave to her thigh. Huh. “What with how much you try to- watch your damned teeth-” another swat, though he pulls back from her breast, “-try to peek down my clothes.”

“What can I say?” Madara muses, a cheeky grin curling his lips as he leans in to steal a kiss, his hand soothing the area he’d swatted mere moments before. “I’m a simple man with simple likes.”

“Gross.”

“Fuck off.”

“Take your yukata off and I will,” Tobirama mutters, reaching out to drag her nails down the portion of his chest that was revealed. “I’ve always wondered if you’ve got the dick to back up how cocky you are.”

“You little shit,” he hissed, falling for her words as he made quick work of his yukata, leaving him in his undergarments- which hid nothing, Tobirama noted, her eyes widening in surprise. “Ha! See? I can actually back my shit- oh,” whatever he’d intended to say died on his tongue as Tobirama had reached out, palming at him through his underwear, her eyes wide in curiosity.

Wordlessly, she sat up, gaze intense as she leaned in to lick a slow line down the center of his abdominals- a mirror of what he’d done to her, he realized belatedly. “Lay down,” she murmured against the sensitive skin of his stomach. He obeyed, settling back against the large bed, hair spreading out beneath him like a dark halo. She went to crawl between his legs, only for Madara to grunt.

“No.”

A blink. “Why not?”

“Come here.”

“Wh- oh.” Realization struck, and her cheeks burned as she swallowed roughly. “Right,” carefully, as if afraid she’d somehow crush him, she crawled up and turned. It was an intimate position, one that she didn’t often find herself in with her previous partners, yet Madara didn’t complain. This way, it left them both open- vulnerable, but gave her the perfect angle to reach out and tug his underwear down far enough to free his cock. “... Are all the Uchiha built like this?” She asked, half joking as she gazed down at it.

She couldn’t lie- it wasn’t a bad dick. Not at all- no, it was veiny, but not outwardly awful to look at. Thick; the stretch would hurt, she had no doubt about that. But a part of her thrilled at the idea of the pain. A jolt danced through her, drawing forth a startled gasp at the feeling of his tongue licking a slow stripe up her slit. “No, we aren’t,” he finally answered as his hands raised, settling on her most intimate part and spreading her wide. “I’m just fuckin’ lucky.”

Her eyes rolled, but any retort she had died the moment his tongue pressed against her clit. Gaze closing, she enjoyed the feeling for a moment longer, hips grinding back against his mouth, moans spilling free. Damn him- he was talented. Perhaps the rumors she’d heard were true. Reaching out, she cupped his cock, giving a light stroke before leaning forward, tongue lolling out to give sweet kitten licks at the head, enjoying the way his thighs tensed at the feeling. Two could play at this game, she decided as she opened her mouth wider, taking the head in to suckle on.

Madara groaned against her, lips closed around her clit before he pulled back for a moment, letting his thumb circle her clit in quick, tight circles. “What, is it too big for you?” He teased, only to eat his words a moment later as wet heat encircled over half of his length-

And she swallowed around him. His head fell back against the pillows, a groan filling the room as she began to bob her head in earnest. His fingers didn’t pause, tormenting her clit. Neither would last like this, not with how pent up they were. And as tempting as it was to let her finish him off like this, or to have her finish against his mouth-

That could come another time.

“To-Tobirama, stop, stop,” he murmured, tapping her thigh gently to get her attention. One last slow lick is given before she lifts her head.

“What?” Was she not good? She hadn’t gotten any sort of complaints before, but there was certainly a first time for everything. Her answer was given the next moment as he rolled her off of him.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” he mused, pushing himself up, his gaze drifting over her form, “I’d much rather have you coming around my fingers than my tongue. This time, at least.”

A shiver danced across her skin at the implication that there would be more than just this. That this wouldn’t be a simple one-night stand. A smile curled her lips as she adjusted herself, settling back against the pillows. Reaching out, she snagged his wrist and tugged him closer, pulling him in for a slow kiss, much more sensual than their initial- the heat still there, certainly, but no longer a fight of dominance. Her hand slipped beneath her pillows, retrieving the small glass vial of oil. “I’m sure you know what to do with this,” she murmured into the kiss, giving his bottom lip a nip.

A chuckle rumbled free from his chest as he plucked the vial from her grasp, settling back on his knees between her thighs. “I think I have an idea,” he agreed, uncorking the bottle with his teeth before letting the oil drizzle out over his fingers, coating two and letting a small stream drip onto her already-soaked cunt. With his clean hand, he replaced the cork before carefully setting the vial aside.

It might be needed again later.

His clean hand settled atop her thigh, massaging it as he eased a finger in, drawing a pleased gasp from Tobirama’s lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, cheeks a rosy hue as he crooked his finger, slowly drawing it back out before pushing back in- a slow pace. She was soaked- realistically, he didn’t believe she needed much prep, but he’d dreamed of this moment for too long to even consider speeding through this.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her left thigh while his right hand continued to work, thumb rubbing clockwise circles against her clit as a second finger eased in beside the first, stretching her out. She was relaxed, sure- but not enough, not to his standards. “Tobi,” he murmured, watching as her gaze fluttered open, brows draw inwards, lips parted to allow soft moans and whispers of “Yes,” and “right there,” to spill free. “Eyes on me,” the command had her tightening around his fingers, a pulse of arousal. He felt the shift when his Sharingan activated, the strain on the veins around his eyes and within as everything swam into a sharper view.

He wanted to remember this.

“The great Tobirama Senju, getting fucked by none of than Uchiha Madara- her sworn enemy,” he taunted, crooking his fingers up, pressing against the most sensitive part of her. A whine- loud, long- escaped, her thighs tensing on either side of him as his hand sped up suddenly. Wet, so very wet. “How lewd,” he crooned, giving her thigh a nip, enjoying the way the muscle jumped beneath his touch. “So fucking wet for me already- listen, Tobirama.”

“Sh-shut up,” Tobirama gasped, her hands gripping at her chest. Good, so good- she was drawing close. “Stop- ‘Dara, stop, too close,” she warned, but his fingers didn’t slow down. “Madara- oh, Madara, there, there, don’t-” her words cut off as her orgasm swept over her. Her head fell back against the pillows, snowy tresses spread about the dark sheets like a halo as she pulsed around his fingers, coating them and his hand.

A pleased hum rumbled free as Madara leaned down, pressing a kiss to her over-sensitive clit. “Good girl,” he murmured, giving it a lick, succeeding in drawing out a broken whine as his fingers withdrew. Sitting back, he reached out to grasp the vial once more to open it, using the remaining oil to slick his cock up. He gave it a few slow strokes, thumb drifting over the sensitive slit in the head to gather the bit of precum that had gathered.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” Tobirama murmured, reaching out to take hold of one of Madara’s hands. “I’m anything but glass.”

“I’m aware,” he replied, scooting forward to settle his hips against hers. A groan fell from both at the sensation of his cock rutting against her cunt. “You’ve never been glass. Iron is a much better word to describe you,” murmuring, he took a moment to enjoy the sensation of being so close to her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as his other guided his cock to her entrance. A slow push of his hips had the head slipping in, a gasp breaking free from Tobirama’s lips, her eyes squeezing shut at the intrusion.

Not made of glass, but still very much human.

The stretch was wonderful- the slight sting of pain eased by his thumb on her clit, by his hips slowly moving forward and not deciding to seat himself in her all at once. So much- almost too much, but she’d be the last to admit that. His hips settled against her own, his hand leaving hers to grip at her hips instead, thumbs rubbing small circles into the soft, unscarred skin. “Good,” she whispered, gaze opening to reveal hazy ruby hues. A moment passed as they both grew used to the sensation- her to how filled she felt, him to the wet heat that encased his cock. Curiously, she shifted her hips, a low moan leaving at the feeling of him moving within.

Madara took that as his sign, hips drawing back before shifting forward slowly, testing the waters. Tobirama’s breath hitched, her brow drawing inward, hands slowly gripping at the sheets beneath her. “Please,” she whispered, tongue slipping out to wet her lips. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, shifting his knees before he began to thrust harder, faster, causing Tobirama to moan- a much louder sound than anything she’d given him before. Wordless little sounds, but gaining in pitch as his hips met hers, as he pulled her back onto his cock. “If I didn’t know any better,” he panted, gaze trained on her face, “I’d almost mistake you for a common oiran.” The way she tightened around him at the slight degradation had his hips slowing for a moment, much to her annoyance. “Oh, yes, I could see it so easily,” he continued, hips grinding, barely pulling out before pushing back in, rubbing against that spot that had her breath catching in her throat. “You in one of those little Tea Houses that have settled here, wearing a pretty little kimono, your lips stained red- laying on your back just like this, letting men use you like the whore you really are,” his voice dipped into a growl as he leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms while the position shifted, her hips rising with his.

Bordering so closely to the mating press, he noted in the back of his mind. But that didn’t matter, not with Tobirama gasping out his name. “Madara,” she whined, a hand rising to cover her mouth- as if it would hide what they were doing. “Don’t stop, sweet Gods do not stop, ah-right there!” Her thighs tensed around his hips, her cunt pulsing around his cock. Oh, she wouldn’t last long- but that was fine.

He would.

His fingers dug into her hips as he pressed close, hips grinding against hers. A moment to catch his breath- and to have her last just a touch longer. Being so close, he could just… Tongue lolling out, he licked a slow stripe up the valley of her breasts, drawing a surprised gasp from her lips, a breathless smile rising to settle across her features. “I could stay like this for ages,” he murmured against her skin, pressing lingering kisses to the smattering of scars across her chest- small, given by shrapnel during their darker days, “just like this, fucking you until you cried, until you can’t remember your name.”

Tobirama shifted her hips, brow furrowed as Madara spoke. She could hear him, certainly- could understand him, but the words didn’t register, not with how close she was to her own end. “Then do it,” she whispered, reaching down to cup his cheeks, drawing his face up- and for once, didn’t flinch away from the triad of tomoe within his ruby gaze. “Make me forget my name. Make me only remember yours.”

Something seemed to switch, then- as Madara studied her flushed features, the way her hair spread out beneath her head like a silver halo and wings. Leaning in, he captured her lips in a slow, sensual kiss that ended in him nipping at her lower lip as he shifted, his hands smoothing up her sides before settling atop the blankets, holding his weight up. This position was far more intimate than their previous positions, yet he found that it didn’t bother him. No, rather, he preferred this- to see her face so clearly, to hear her whispers of his name as he began to thrust once more. Her legs shifted, coming to settle around his hips, her ankles crossing at the small of his back.

Closer, stirring the embers of the flame that had been waiting to come to life for some time, now. What had been a small campfire was quickly spreading, consuming like a wildfire, flames licking at their skin, settling in their veins.

His lips brushed against her chin as her head tilted back, the position allowing for Madara to push deeper. “Tobirama,” he murmured, brow furrowing. Perhaps he wouldn’t last long, not now, not with how she gripped his cock. “By the Gods,” he gasped softly, hips rolling, chasing both hers and his own release. Her hands reached up, one tangling in thick onyx locks, the other scrapping blunt nails down the expanse of his back. The sharp shock of pain drew a surprised groan out of him, much to her amusement.

“Good boy,” she teased, only to gasp a moment later at the feeling of teeth digging into the sensitive flesh of her neck. “Mad-” her voice cut off by a loud moan as he moved his weight onto one arm, his free hand slipping between them to brush against her clit. Wordless sighs and moans spilled free as she rolled her hips against his, creating a wonderful fiction that had them both beginning to become consumed with the flames that threatened to burn them alive.

Madara pressed heated kisses along her throat as he felt her shudder beneath him. “Close, darling?” He murmured in her ear, lips brushing against the shell as she whimpered. “Will you be a good girl and come for me, then? Come around my cock like I know you want to?” His voice was no longer smooth, growing more haggard as his own completion began to burn at the base of his spine. “Come on, Tobi, you know you want to.”

“Shut- shut up,” Tobirama panted, even as she tossed her head back as he gave a particularly hard thrust. So close, so close. “Don’t stop, Madara- oh- oh, there! Please,” her voice pitched into a whine as her hand abandoned his hair to clutch at his back. Her walls pulsed around him once, twice, three times before she stilled, her back arching, mouth dropping open to release a sob of his name, tears spilling free at last from garnet hues.

Madara pushed himself up to watch, searing the image of her coming around his cock into his memory. The way her cheeks were flushed red, her brows furrowed, her nose scrunching up- she was beautiful in that moment. She was always beautiful, but this was a new type of beauty, something so delicate and precious that he hadn’t ever imagined being privy to. He moved slowly, the thrusts dragging against her walls, dragging out her pleasure and inching him close to his own. It hit suddenly, coming over him like wildfire consuming brush that lay in its path. He stilled above her, his head hanging low as he groaned out her name like a prayer.

She lay beneath him, panting and whining at the feeling of him filling her- hot, so very hot, it threatened to send her over the edge by the feeling alone. Shaky hands reached up to brush through surprisingly soft onyx tresses as he began to slowly gather himself. A moment longer, she thought to herself- let this last for a moment longer. The feeling of him settled over her, shuddering, panting, the heat that radiated from his skin so very pleasant, it had her relaxing into her bed.

But all good things must come to an end. Madara was careful as he pulled out, rolling his weight to the side to settle beside her with a breathless laugh. “Oops,” he hummed, reaching over to drag his fingertips along her thigh, watching as her leg jumped. He traced the red tattoo up, along the top of her thigh and onto her hip. “Was I supposed to pull out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured, reaching over to brush her fingers against his cheek, brushing away his hair. So messy… “Mito taught me how to make tea that will… Ensure it won’t take.”

“How soon do you need to drink it?” An innocent question as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his palm.

Tobirama hummed, shifting and grimacing at the feeling of his seed leaking. Oh, that’s why she hated it. “I’ll have it with my breakfast,” comes the simple response as she dips a hand down between her thighs to drag her fingers through the mess. “No wonder why there are so many of you Uchiha,” she comments idly.

A snort escapes Madara as he sits up, gaze drifting to the apex of her thighs. “Could always clean it up for you,” his fingers tap a slow rhythm on her thigh.

“Who said I wanted to be cleaned up?” Tobirama shoots back, legs slowly spreading. “Or are you just a one-and-done kinda guy?”

A grin spread across Madara’s lips as he slipped back between her thighs, pressing kisses along her stomach. “Do I look like the kind of man to leave a woman unsatisfied?”

“No,” she sighs, reaching down with her clean hand to brush his hair back from his face. “I feel that I will never be unsatisfied with you around- oh!” The feeling of his tongue brushing against her slit had her jolting in surprise, a chuckle rising to meet her ears.

Fires are awfully hard to extinguish once they grow out of control and consume everything within its sight.

[voiceless-terror]

More than Enough

For @tma-mspec-week Day Three: Polycule

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Sasha James/Tim Stoker/Martin Blackwood

Rating: Teen

Summary:

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

Or: How One Became Four.

It starts with Sasha and Jon.

She’s fresh off six months in Artefact Storage, shell-shocked and stand-offish. Jon starts a few months later and they learn the ropes together. She warms up, divulges little tidbits of her time in the other department that Jon devours. He’s young, hungry for answers and Sasha’s already jaded by her few years in academia. This is just a transitional job, she assures him. It pays better than most research gigs and allows her to keep up a certain lifestyle. 

“I’m looking at other places, putting out feelers,” she confides in him one day over coffee. It’s become their daily ritual, a mid-morning break where they can commiserate on the staid academics that ask too much of them and the fanciful statements that end up on their desk. “Whatever you do, don’t get stuck here.” She leans back in her chair, gives a cynical little smile. “Or maybe you should. It’ll be different for you, you’re a man.” He starts a protest but she cuts him off. “It’s an old boys club and you know it. Besides, I know all about your extra meetings with Bouchard. He’s never done that with anyone else. Who knows - in a few years you might be my boss!”

He scoffs at that. Jon feels like he’s treading water. He’s a great researcher, sure, but he hasn’t exactly made himself popular among the others. He’s quick to bite, dismissive, blunt. It’s why he and Sasha get along so well, tucked away in their own little world. Of course she would notice the attention from Elias; Jon’s flattered by it, even if he stammers his way through every interaction. Elias seems to find this amusing, but Jon wants to impress him. 

Though not at the cost of his friendship with Sasha. “I always mention your work to him. I’m rubbish with technology, but you-” She rolls her eyes.

“Don’t, he’ll see right through that. Manipulation’s not your strong suit.” Jon stares down at his rapidly cooling drink, an embarrassed flush spreading across his features. But her hand reaches out to grasp his and a fond smile lights her features. “Thank you, though. It’s sweet of you.”

Jon likes Sasha. Their personalities occasionally clash, but never for too long. Jon’s quick to forgive and Sasha’s too fond to hold a grudge, though she’s loath to admit it. So when her roommate suddenly moves out and she’s left in a bind, it’s only natural for Jon to take her place. He’s been rent-poor, living paycheck to paycheck in a shitty studio that’s still an hour’s commute. Sasha’s closer and her flat’s substantially nicer; she offers and he accepts, easy as that. It’s a practical move, and Jon has to admit his lonely little flat is starting to feel suffocating. 

They fit together easily, like pieces of puzzle slotting in place. Sasha’s brutally efficient in her personal matters; bills and maintenance that Jon finds overwhelming and confounding she takes care of with ease. He’s heard her on the phone in that light, practiced tone of hers as she casually threatens the landlord for necessary repairs. Jon finds himself relaxing bit by bit, feeling comfortable in his own skin as she snarks at the dinner table over a dish he’s made. He used to cook for Georgie like this. Now he cooks for Sasha.

“You’re good at this,” she comments one night over chana masala. “Loads better than the frozen meals I’m used to.”

“It’s nice, having someone to cook for. Harder to do it for one.” He feels a bit uncomfortable with the admission, though he knows he shouldn’t - this is what it’s like, when you love someone.

He’s never said that to her, of course. He gets attached too easily but never knows quite how to show it. And it’s not his usual sort of love, he doesn’t want to date her. She’s more than a friend, and Jon’s never had many of those; he has no metric to measure this against. He thinks he could stay in this flat with her forever, so long as he could see her smile every morning and yawn every night. 

On a Saturday morning she stumbles out of bed and makes her way over to the kitchen. “Morning,” she grumbles, as she reaches for the coffee pot and kisses his forehead. Jon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

On a Wednesday night Jon drinks too much. 

“Sasha,” he slurs, her arm the only thing keeping him from falling off his stool. “I want you t’ know…”

She smiles indulgently, takes a sip of her drink. “Yes, dear?”

“I-I love you.” She pauses and Jon’s heart drops. “N-Not like that, but like friends. Good friends. Very good friends. But m-maybe not.” She’s still smiling, that’s got to be a good sign, right? “I-I just love you, okay?”

And then she laughs, puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. “I love you too. Stay with me forever, okay?”

He takes her hand between his and promises, with all the solemnity a drunken man can muster, that he’ll stay with her forever and then some. The next morning, while they’re both nursing massive hangovers, Jon broaches the subject again.

“Did you mean it?” he asks tentatively, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “What you said last night. Do- do you want me to stay forever?” She turns to look at him, bleary eyes suddenly alert.

“Yes.” There’s no tease in her words as she leans into his side, a warm weight on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.”

Jon stays.

______

Two years later, Tim joins the Institute.

He’s handsome; charming, but subdued. He’s been assigned a desk near theirs, invading the quiet little corner that had become their world. Tim greets them both with a smile and a perfunctory handshake before settling down at his desk and powering up his laptop. He doesn’t speak to them again.

Jon watches as he goes back and forth between circulation and his desk, building an impressive stack of books- The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi, The Congress of Clowns and Other Russian Circus Acts. Sasha told him he worked in publishing, Jon knows she got that information through her usual nefarious means. Perhaps he’s writing a book, Jon says. Sasha thinks otherwise.

“He’s one of those,” she says over sandwiches and tea. She invited Tim, but had been turned down with an apologetic smile. 

“Hmm?”

“Like you.” She sets her drink down, eyes him with her steady gaze. “He’s got a reason.”

Mr. Spider doesn’t like it.

Jon shivers at the reminder. Sasha never brought it up after he initially confided in her one vulnerable night last year; she just held him through the shaking and the tears. He’s only told the story twice; once at eight, again at twenty five. It never got easier.

“No one believed me,” he whispered, tucking his face into her shoulder as his body itched from phantom legs skittering across skin. She squeezed him back.

“I do.”

They’re friendly enough to Tim, giving him his distance while still trying to be helpful. Jon points him in the direction of texts and scholars who might be useful, Sasha teaches him a few of her more invasive tricks that Jon refused to learn. Slowly, bit by bit, he opens up. Never shares his story, no- but he smiles, jokes around with them, accompanies them on their lunch breaks and eventually entices them to after work drinks. 

He’s handsome when he smiles, Jon thinks to himself as Tim regales them with stories of dates gone wrong. Sasha catches his eye and winks. He wonders if she’ll tire of Jon now that Tim’s around. He’s everything Jon’s not; good-looking, confident, secure in his intelligence. Sasha laughs so freely around him. He could ground her where Jon cannot- they can be a chaotic force, the two of them. It’s why they keep to themselves.

But at the end of the night it’s Jon’s hand she takes, swinging it gently with hers. “Stay with me forever?”

He smiles. “Forever.”

They invite him over to their flat one night in spring, when the trees are blossoming and Jon’s allergies are acting up. He’s sniffling miserably on the couch, Tim sprawled next to him as Sasha pours some wine. Despite his misery, Jon’s content.

Tim nudges him with his foot. “So what’s your deal?” he asks in a wheedling tone, though his smirk betrays an almost imperceptible anxiety. It’s strange. “You and Sash. Dating, roomies…?”

It’s Sasha who answers, handing Jon a glass of wine and standing before Tim, tall and proud. “Jon’s my partner.” It’s matter of fact, and Jon can’t help the warmth that floods him. “We’re not dating. I’m not interested in that.” She hands him his glass with a smirk. “But if you want to romance Jon, feel free.”

Jon sputters as she laughs- he’s transparent, as usual. They’d talked about it briefly- Sasha’s fine with him dating other people, but Jon’s never felt the need to. Sasha’s enough. She still is, but he can’t deny the way his heart swoops whenever Tim aims that smile in his direction. Sasha likes him too, in her own way.

Tim’s still gaping at them and Jon can’t help but join in on the laughter, as embarrassed as he feels. “Is the great Timothy Stoker nervous?” Sasha says in between giggles. “Guess we know how to shut him up now.”

“L-Look, can you blame me?” Tim says, a smile growing on his face. “You two can be very intimidating, not to mention gorgeous-”

Jon kicks at his leg. “Don’t joke.”

“No, we are.” Sasha interrupts, daring him to disagree. She turns that deadly smile back on Tim, delighting in his falter. “So what’ll it be, Stoker?”

There’s silence, Jon can feel his heart racing. They’ve got this all wrong, Tim doesn’t want him, Tim’s going to leave, Tim doesn’t understand-

“Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

Jon blinks. “Uh, yes?”

“He likes Thai!” Sasha calls as she walks over to her bedroom, leaving the two of them on the couch, laughing nervously. 

“So you’re bi, then?” Tim asks, scooting closer to Jon and throwing a blanket over their legs and an arm around his shoulder. It’s warm in all the right ways and Jon leans closer, the awkwardness dissipating at the touch of his hand. 

“I prefer pan,” he replies. It’s the first term that felt right to him. Georgie used to make some stupid joke about a ‘gender buffet’ and him ‘having one of everything.’ It still makes him smile. “And- and you should know I’m also ace. So there’s some things I won’t be able to do for you.” He looks for disappointment in Tim’s eyes and finds none. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course.” Tim smiles like he means the words and Jon feels light, almost dizzy. “Are kisses alright?”

He nods shyly, and Tim takes this as his cue to pepper him in obnoxiously loud smooches- one in his hair, another on his nose. Jon manages to bat him away after Tim almost gets him in the eye. 

So Tim and Jon are dating. Tim takes him out to dinner, the movies, one memorable night of karaoke. Sasha joins in when she wants; they go to museums and lectures. One night she laces her fingers through Tim’s, smiling at his wide eyes.

“What?” she says innocently, doing the same with Jon. “I’ve got two hands.”

On Wednesday nights Tim goes to the gym. Jon sits at the table, passes Sasha a bowl of reheated spaghetti before settling down in his chair. He fidgets, not touching his fork.

“What is it?” Sasha asks, setting her own fork down. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“I-” he stutters, sighing as the words won’t come. Just tell her like you practiced. “I’m not trying to, well- hmm. I don’t want to insinuate anything-”

“You would never.”

“But, I’ve noticed- I’m not- Tim is very handsome.”

Sasha smiles indulgently. “Mhm. Go on.”

“And I’ve noticed. I don’t- if you wanted to-” Goddamnit. Pull yourself together. “I wouldn’t mind it, if you were to - that is, if you’d like to engage in-” He closes his eyes, purses his lips in frustration. “Please stop me.”

“Why Jon,” she replies, her voice coy and teasing. “Are you giving me your blessing?”

Jon sighs, his face warming as he opens one eye- she’s grinning, just as he expected. “...Yes?”

Six months later, Tim moves in.

_______

“Jon wants to bring a boy home!”

Jon smacks him in the arm and scowls. “Tim, don’t-”

“What, it’s true!” He leans back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Jon wants to knock the smile off his face and maybe onto the floor, if he can get a good kick in. “I don’t blame you and in fact, I encourage it. Martin’s a catch-”

“Martin?” Sasha perks up. “Finally!”

“Not you too-”

“Jon, he’s a very sweet boy-”

“-good-looking, too!”

“And if you want to bring him over, please do.” She reaches across the table to give his hand an encouraging, if condescending, squeeze. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

“I don’t think I’ll need to go into that much detail just yet,” Jon cuts her off, ignoring Tim’s snicker. “It’s just...what if he thinks it's weird?”

“Weird can be good. And if he doesn’t agree, well - he’s not worth your time.”

If only it were that simple.

It’s been about three months since he first ran into Martin in the break room. He’d seen him around plenty of times, but despite his hulking form, the man can make himself very, very small. It wasn’t until he quite literally ran into him, causing him to drop his newly organized files, that Jon got a good look at his face.

It was a nice face. Soft, kind, with big blue eyes and curly red hair that fell across his forehead. He wanted to touch it, tuck it behind Martin’s ear and he almost did, despite the man’s rambling apologies and meek demeanor. He stood there, frozen, even as Martin handed back the file with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I’m pretty clumsy. Are you alright?”

Jon was fine. He should probably say that.

“Y-Yes. I’m Jon.” Wow. Smooth.

“I know.” Martin put a hand behind his neck, nervously chuckling. “You’re quite known around these parts.” His eyes widened and his face turned red. A nice red. “N-Not in a bad way, of course! You’re- you’re just very smart and- and direct- and oh Lord, that’s not a compliment, is it-”

“Thank you for my file,” Jon replied robotically, his eyes trained somewhere over Martin’s shoulder and not on his very, very blue eyes. “I have to take my leave now.” Why are you talking like this?

Their next few encounters were similarly stunted and awkward. Martin made tea at ten every morning, coincidentally when Jon got his yogurt from the fridge. He started making Jon a cup as well; he wasn’t sure if Martin was particularly excellent at making tea, or if it just mattered that he was the one making it. Jon tried not to dwell on the sentimentality of it all. 

He shouldn’t want another partner. He’s got Sasha, who he loves, and Tim, who he also loves, albeit in a different way. They should be enough for him. They are enough. But Martin makes him tea and asks him how his day is going and smiles at him and people don’t do that. He tells himself he just wants a friend, but he finds his mind wandering- Martin’s hand in his while they walk down the street, Jon nestled into his side on a movie night and Tim’s there too, because Martin is very comfy and handsome and warm. Sasha’s in her armchair reading a book because tonight they’re watching a romantic comedy and she hates those. Jon hates them too but Martin likes them, of course Martin likes them-

No. He’s getting distracted. And he’s standing in front of Martin like an idiot, saying nothing. This is going terribly. Why did he ever think this would not go terribly-

“Jon? Are you alright? You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

“I’m not having a stroke,” Jon responds on auto-pilot. “I’m trying to think of a clever way to ask you out but you are very distracting.”

Shit. Martin stares at him, mouth open in shock. He’s got nice teeth. Very straight.

“Um- I-I thought you were with Tim?” Martin squeaks out. Oh God, I’ve scared him. Do I keep going? “Or- or Sasha, oh! I’m not accusing you of -”

“No, you’re correct,” Jon grinds out, willing himself to be calm. He doesn’t want Martin to think his frustration is aimed at him. “Sasha’s my partner and I’m dating Tim, and sometimes Sasha and Tim-” No! Abort! “-sorry. We’re together. But, um, I-I also like you, and I think Tim likes you but he hasn’t said- I’m sorry, this is going all wrong.” He looks down at the floor, clenching his jaw. “I understand if you say no.”

“I’m not saying no,” Martin’s voice is lower now and Jon feels a hope rise in his chest. He’s not? “So it’s, it’s like an open thing? You’re accepting applications?” Jon would laugh at the joke if he weren’t so paralyzed with fear.

“Not really? It’s, we aren’t dating around or anything, but I suppose it is open, in a way.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Open for you.”

Martin’s smiling like he can’t believe his luck, and it confuses Jon because who wouldn’t want him? Kind, handsome Martin who makes him tea and doesn’t laugh at his stupid jokes but rolls his eyes affectionately and tells his own in turn. Jon doesn’t think he’ll ever understand his humor but it makes him smile and that’s important. And now Martin’s taking his hand and he- oh fuck Martin’s taking his hand Martin’s got his hand and it’s warm, just like he knew it would be-

“I-I think I’d like that.” A squeeze. Jon dies but only a little. “Wow, this is sort of crazy for me, y’know? You’re all so, so intimidating and good-looking-”

“Yes, we are,” Jon agrees, squeezing his hand back. “But we’d like to buy you dinner, if you’re amenable.” Martin laughs and says yes, he’s very, very amenable. It feels right holding Martin’s hand. It feels right to see him with Tim and Sasha, smiling and joking. It feels right to lean into him at the end of the day, to nudge his side in the night and apologize in the morning.

Martin’s lease expires in seven months. They start looking for a new apartment after three.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032062

[keepyourpantsongohan]

And Many Happy Returns

A gift for @sloaners, one of the funniest, nicest and most talented people I know. You deserve nothing but good things, so here’s something made with the wish to make you smile. Please check out the collaborative pieces by @uintuva​ @tomicaleto​ @kiro-sveta and @ohayohimawari​​. | AO3 (Art/Writing) | Podfic |

                               ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It starts, as the best intentions often do, with a thirty-year-old man blowing out a birthday candle. 

“Happy birthday, Kakashi,” Tenzō tells him warmly. 

This warmth between them is both new and old. It aches of familiarity, and partnership, and all the things Kakashi has compartmentalized as something he ought to think about at a later date. But it is later, the moon shining down upon them in the wee hours of the night, his face bare to his companion. It’s a new world order, one where to Kakashi is the Sixth Hokage, and the village is bustling with migrants from all its neighbours, and where he lets someone look at him the way Tenzō is doing, like he has done something incredibly right. 

Kakashi wishes Obito were here to see this. He likes to think it would annoy him a little, even if this was exactly what he had suggested. 

“So how does it feel?” Tenzō asks, smiling. He sets down the cupcake, knowing Kakashi isn’t interested in sweets anyway. “Your first birthday as Hokage. This should be a day that the whole village celebrates.” 

“Maa, you know I don’t like parties,” Kakashi says, ducking his head as if a villager might pop up somewhere with a confetti canon. He reaches out and lets his fingers brush Tenzō’s. “This is fine with me.” 

Tenzō sighs, all fondness. “Well, you have to at least let me show you your birthday present.” 

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Did you bring something?” 

Tenzō shakes his head. “It’s more of something I get to show, actually.” 

It’s very tempting for Kakashi to make a joke at that, but his thought is soon cut off by a gleaming light in the sky, a bright blue-green speck making its way from far up above them, heading downward quite suddenly. For a moment, he thinks it could be a shooting star. Yet it doesn’t look much like a star to him, particularly not when he realizes whatever it is is hurtling not only towards the ground, but towards them. Kakashi’s mental calculations suggest that the meteor will land before they get a chance to move. 

It is all they can do to brace for impact. Kakashi feels his chakra gather in his palms and raises his hands so that he might be able to form a chidori. Beside him, Tenzō’s hands form a serpent seal and a wooden dome suddenly encloses them. A futile effort, given the speed and force of the object, but one Kakashi appreciates nonetheless. 

What surprises him, however, is when the meteor passes straight through the barrier, lands in their laps with a groan, and lets out a frustrated, “Ow!” 

Kakashi’s brain tries to catch up to the situation. They’re alive. They’re alive, and so is their meteor. Except it’s not a meteor, it’s a mint green man, who has appendages jutting out from his neck that dig into Kakashi’s thigh. Kakashi’s eyes rove over the man’s back, taking in the familiarity of what he is facing. 

“Obito?” asks Kakashi incredulously. 

“Obito?!” Tenzō repeats, his voice rising an octave. “Your Obito? Kakashi, isn’t he supposed to be dead?” 

Kakashi says, before he can think much about it, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” 

In answer to their questions, Obito finally rolls over, confirming what Kakashi already knew. Obito’s face and body are the same as they were at the height of the war by all accounts. Scales, tomoe, and horns decorate his body, but what draws most of his attention are the brushstrokes painted across his stomach, reading, “Love, Kaa-san~”

A hand thrown over his eyes, Obito grumbles out, “Your mother says, ‘Happy birthday,’ Bakashi.”

—

Tenzō’s first order of business is to find out how this happened. Obito’s first order of business, as soon as he is able to stand on his own two feet, is to stare at Kakashi. 

“Wh— That’s— You’re handsome!” Obito accuses, outraged. He points his finger at Kakashi’s uncovered face. 

It’s unclear if Kakashi’s face is flushed from the impact of Obito’s words or the impact of his body flying at them from space. “Uh, thanks,” Kakashi replies weakly. 

“Can we go back to Kakashi’s mother?” Tenzō asks, waving a hand in front of them. “How many people are back from the dead?” 

“Just me, so far,” says Obito, a little defensively. “Kaguya’s immortal, so it’s not like she was dead in the first place.” 

“Kaguya,” Kakashi echoes flatly, eyes drifting up to the night sky. Tenzō’s gaze follows his, staring up at the moon, suddenly conscious of every moment he and Kakashi might have shared under the moon’s light. “My... mother?” 

Obito claps his hands together, distracting Tenzō and Kakashi from their respective existential crises. “Right! She said this would help explain.” 

Then, without preamble, Obito steps towards Kakashi, places his hands on either side of his face, and pulls him forward into a long, enthusiastic kiss. Kakashi’s hands drift upward, hovering over Obito’s sides. Though Tenzō can’t see both of Kakashi’s eyes, he does see one of them widen and shut, as a bright light pulses from Kakashi’s forehead, blowing his hair upward with an accompanying breeze. They draw apart, with half-smiles on their faces. 

“Oh,” Kakashi says, as if the situation makes any more sense. He looks at Tenzō. “Can you tell him too?” 

Obito nods. Tenzō tries not to jump when Obito leans towards him and their lips meet. As they do, Tenzō’s eyes are flooded with images, first of a woman with three eyes and long silver hair, and then of a man who looks just like Kakashi. The images flash quickly from the woman holding a small child, to passing through rips in the universe, to the remnants of Obito’s chakra being pulled into the moon. It is not unlike being awoken from a genjutsu.  

When the last memory passes before his eyes, Tenzō pulls away and says, “You know, all she said you had to do was touch us. Any reason you chose a kiss?” 

Obito’s mint green skin turns a bright shade of orange. “Hey— Well... Kakashi, help me out here.” 

“It was a pretty good kiss,” Kakashi offers in reply. “Eight out of ten, at least.” 

“Six and a half,” says Tenzō. “He bit my lip.” 

Obito grumbles under his breath, “Some people like that,” while Kakashi laughs.

—

“Remind me again why we’re staying at Yamato’s place and not yours, Bakashi?” 

Kakashi tosses a pillow at Obito, which, to Tenzō’s mild regret, he catches. “Because my place is the Hokage’s residence. Your chakra signature is too noticeable. Not to mention, the horns.” 

There’s far more intrigue in Kakashi’s last few words than Tenzō finds comforting. 

Obito and Tenzō lock eyes. “He looks at me judgementally,” Obito complains, pouting. 

“That’s because I’m judging you,” Tenzō informs him, just a little bit amused. “Consider me your rehabilitation sponsor.” 

Obito winces. “Doesn’t me dying count for something?” 

Tenzō regards Obito speculatively, weighing the consequences of an honest answer. Strangely enough, the man seems sincere. One of the orbs floating by Obito’s head brushes against Tenzō’s cheek, like a sulking cat seeking attention. “No,” says Tenzō, this time smiling outright.

Tenzō brings his attention back to Kakashi. He roots through one of his utility pouches, and shortly deposits what he finds into Kakashi’s palm. “This was supposed to be a gift for you,” Tenzō explains. “But now I suppose it makes more sense to give it to both of you.” 

“A key,” Kakashi observes, turning the wood over between his fingers. His mask, now back in place, doesn’t fully hide the flush creeping up. 

Tenzō nods, and with a few hand seals, a duplicate is in his hands. “I like my house the way it is,” he tells Obito, closing his fist over it. 

Without waiting for a reply, Tenzō crosses the room to head upstairs. Aside from Kakashi and Obito likely needing their own moment to speak, he feels the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes. 

As his feet reach the third step, he hears Obito say, “What am I supposed to do with that?” 

“You might try being helpful,” Tenzō calls out from the stairwell. 

—

Obito decides to take Yamato—Tenzō, as Kakashi keeps calling him—seriously. He spends the next morning in Tenzō’s kitchen helping out. The fridge doesn’t have everything he needs, but he saves time by going out into the garden and encouraging some of the fruits to grow with his mokuton. Food hasn’t been a necessity for Obito for a few years, so he takes care in arranging it, hoping that if it isn’t tasty, it’s at least well-presented. 

Obito is attempting to place seaweed on rice in an appreciable impression of a cat’s ears when Tenzō comes to stand beside him. 

“Is this for Kakashi?” 

“This one is for you,” Obito says, gesturing. “The other one is for Kakashi. His box has a rabbit.” 

Tenzō eyes crinkle at the corners. Obito is beginning to recognize the motion for what it is, a reflection of the way Kakashi smiles, when the mask is in place. “Thank you. I can bring it to him, if you want.” 

Obito mulls over the offer. “We can go together.” 

“I don’t know if that’s—“ 

Obito closes the box, and uses his free hand to wave off Tenzō’s concerns. “Don’t worry about it. It’s too early for him to have any visitors. Besides, I want to see if he really wears those robes like Old Man Third.” 

Tenzō shakes his head. “How are you planning to pass through the village unnoticed?“ 

Obito taps his temple, right beside his sharingan. “Kamui,” he says, both an explanation and a warning. 

“Obito—”

In one fluid motion, Obito tucks a bento box in the crook of his arm and grabs Tenzō’s elbow to yank him forward. Moments later, they stand in front of Kakashi, who looks surprised but pleased. 

“What brings you two here?” 

“Your lunch,” Obito declares, sliding the box across his desk. 

Kakashi rests one elbow on the desk, leaning his head on his palm. “What’s the occasion?” 

“I didn’t give you a gift,” Obito says, and then freezes. 

At once, both he and Kakashi realize what Obito has said. Kakashi is looking at him the same way he did the night before. His stricken look and doubt from the war is gone, replaced by something warmer and softer. Obito feels his face heat up. 

“There’s nothing you need to give me,” Kakashi says quietly. He hasn’t stopped looking at Obito. 

“I want to,” Obito tells him honestly. It feels freeing to say it. 

Kakashi finally breaks their gaze. “That’s good to hear,” is what he says, reaching for the bento box. Their fingers brush. 

Though Obito can feel Tenzō looking at them, he finds himself distracted in Kakashi’s face. The war feels only like yesterday to Obito, but he can see new lines on Kakashi’s face that hadn’t been there before. Lines beside his eyes to accompany his smile, a tan line peeking up from where his mask has not sat evenly on his face, and a line between his brows that reminds Obito he is standing in front of the Sixth Hokage. 

“Kakashi, I—”

What Obito is going to say, even he cannot predict, but he is spared from answering by the door to Kakashi’s office suddenly bursting open. 

“Sakura, Sai,” Kakashi greets the two teenagers casually, as if there is not a six-foot-tall formerly dead rogue ninja in his office. “What’s going on?” 

Sakura stares, disbelief written on her face. “I could ask the same question.” 

“It’s a long story,” Tenzō says, raising his hands in a warding gesture. 

The boy, who must be Sai, blinks, looking oddly unaffected. “Kakashi-sama, is this some kind of test?” 

“Would you believe it if I said yes?” Kakashi asks.

Sakura gives him a withering look. “Not even a little bit.”

Though Sakura is the one Obito expects to be gawking at him, given that she was present when he died, her ire is directed towards her teacher. It is Sai who looks at him with focused curiosity. Well, Obito supposes people don’t encounter a jinchuriki with his appearance every day. “If you have something to ask, just say it,” Obito tells him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Sai inquires seriously. He has a sketchpad in his hands, as if he were intending to take notes. 

“Why are you alive?” Sakura asks, reasonably. 

“It was Kakashi’s birthday yesterday,” he explains, before Tenzō grabs his arm and phases them both through the wooden floor. 

—

“Just stay put for now,” Tenzō demands, when they arrive in his back garden. “We’re lucky it was those two. If Sasuke or Naruto were in the village right now, there would’ve been much more of a scene.” 

Obito sits down on the engawa, feet sinking into the grass. “I was just helping out,” he says, shrugging. 

Tenzō takes a seat beside him. “Help less obviously.” 

“Kakashi wouldn’t take my apology,” Obito replies quietly. He brushes his fingers over a dandelion, letting it grow taller and wilder in his grasp. “But he would take my lunch. I know he still has thoughts about my past, but he won’t say anything about it. He just keeps looking at me like...” 

“...He’s happy that you’re alive?” Tenzō suggests. “He is. Believe me, he doesn’t look at just anyone like that.” 

“He looks at you like that.” 

Though his expression doesn’t change, Obito doesn’t need a sharingan to pick up the redness in Tenzō’s cheeks. “It’s complicated.” 

“Am I complicating it?” Obito asks sincerely. 

“A little,” Tenzō admits, to Obito’s surprise. The other man chuckles. “But I think you’d be complicating it whether you were alive or not. And I like to see him happy.” 

The words make Obito’s stomach tighten in a pleasant way. He takes a moment to take stock of his companion. It is easy enough to see what Kakashi sees in him, in his honest feelings, determination and loyalty. It makes Obito wonder if they can make whatever this is work after all. 

“I’m sorry for what happened during the war,” Obito tells him. “For what I did to you. I know what it’s like to be used. It doesn’t change anything, but—”

“It does,” Tenzō interjects calmly. “It helps.” 

Obito wants to say something more, but both of them turn their attention to the woods, feeling a familiar chakra presence rushing at them at full speed. 

“That’s not...” 

“It is,” Tenzō confirms. “Well, this was bound to happen eventually.” 

With that, a green blur rolls straight past Tenzō’s wards and jerks to a halt right at the edge of Tenzō’s property. “Yamato, my youthful friend!! Is it true that you and my rival are now living together in hot-blooded cohabitation?” 

“Does he really not notice me?” Obito mutters. Tenzō kicks him. 

“Not exactly, Gai,” Tenzō calls out. “He’s free to come and go as he pleases.” 

Gai, who looks every bit as energetic as ever, pushes his wheelchair closer to them. “Yosh!! Just like Kakashi!” Gai replies. “He wants to train harder before taking that next step.” 

When he is at arm’s length from the house, Gai turns his stare to Obito, narrowing his eyes with a concerned frown. 

“Hey Gai,” Obito says, waving. 

Gai lets out a thoughtful hum. “Yamato, your comrade seems... familiar. Have we met before?” 

“Seriously?!” Obito exclaims. 

This time, Tenzō elbows Obito. “Gai, I’m not sure if he looked like this that last time you saw him, but this is Obito. He's come back from... somewhere.” 

Gai’s smile fades. The seriousness in his expression looks out of place. “I see.” 

Obito takes a deep breath, and stands up. He bows his head a little, half in contrition and half because he thinks Gai would rather not look at him. “I’m sorry. Kakashi told me that Naruto’s friend, the Hyuga boy, was your student. I know that doesn’t change what I did, but you deserve to hear me say it. I wish I could bring him back—”

“Neji?” Gai interrupts him, his voice shaky. 

Obito offers one quick nod. “Yes, if I could’ve done things differently, I would—”

“Neji,” says Tenzō beside him, sounding shocked. “Obito, what did you do?”

It surprises Obito that Tenzō hasn’t already heard this story from Kakashi. He lifts his head to reply, when suddenly he catches sight of the source of their surprise. Standing beside Gai, unscathed, is the Hyuga boy who Obito had certainly impaled with mokuton. 

“Gai-sensei?” Neji asks, stepping unsteadily towards his teacher. “What happened?” 

“Neji!” Gai says again, pulling his student down into a tight hug. Gai’s eyes are full of tears, but his grin is blinding. “You’re alive!” 

“Not if you keep crushing me like this,” Neji wheezes, but he returns his teacher’s embrace, pressing his face to Gai’s shoulder. Some of the weight in the air finally lifts off, and for a moment, there is peace. 

And then the moment passes. Tenzō’s hand comes down firmly on Obito’s shoulder, turning them to face each other. “Obito,” he repeats soberly. “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Obito yelps. “All I said was that I wish I could take back what I’d done to the Hyuga kid—”

Tenzō eyes him doubtfully. “And that was all it took? Listen, I wish that I could bring Asuma back, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to show up at our next Mahjong game.” 

Obito wishes this level of suspicion was unwarranted, but he supposes his track record is less than stellar. “I don’t know what happened, alright? If you don’t believe me, ask the kid.” 

“Neji,” Tenzō asks, with far more patience in his voice than he had with Obito, “what’s the last thing you remember?” 

“The war,” Neji says, finally escaping Gai’s hug. He thinks for a moment, and then frowns. “And then some strange woman who claimed she knew Kakashi-sensei.” 

Obito and Tenzō look at each other. And somehow, from across the village in the Sarutobi District, the wind carries out three piercing screams. 

—

When Kakashi gets to Tenzō’s place that night, Obito is already fast asleep on the sofa, sitting up straight with his mouth wide open. One of the orbs that is always surrounding him bumps against Kakashi’s hand, not unlike Kakashi’s ninken do to greet him. Tugging the blanket over Obito’s shoulders, Kakashi smiles. “You’ve made a lot of paperwork for me, you know,” he tells his sleeping friend. Obito mumbles something in reply unconsciously, and Kakashi ruffles his hair, sighing. 

“You can’t give him all the blame,” Tenzō points out, emerging from the kitchen with his hands on his hips. “It’s a full moon this week. Strange things tend to happen.” 

Kakashi laughs. “You, defending Obito? It didn’t take him long to win you over.” 

Tenzō approaches him, settling a hand between Kakashi’s shoulder blades, a soothing warmth. “Only on a trial basis.” 

Kakashi closes his eyes. “You realize, as Hokage, I oversee all shinobi trials.” 

He feels Tenzō laugh at his back, the hand drifting to his side. “Maybe Obito was right, this system is corrupt.” 

“You can admit that you’re enjoying having him around, Tenzō,” Kakashi baits, tugging him towards the sofa. 

“I find his absurdity disarming,” Tenzō confesses. “It’s similar to how I feel around you sometimes, actually.” 

Kakashi pulls Tenzō down so that he can sandwich himself between the two mokuton users. “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”  

Tenzō leans on Kakashi, just as Kakashi leans on Obito. “You would.” 

Obito opens one eye. “You shouldn’t talk about me like I’m not here,” he mumbles, through a yawn.

“Go back to sleep,” Kakashi says, patting him on the cheek. 

For once, Obito listens. And so, tangled on the sofa is how they find themselves the next morning, when all three of them awake to a glowing purple egg gleaming innocently on Tenzō’s coffee table. 

[into-september]

Sole Crusher

 Some clip running on autoplay had what looked like André trying to console Zoé and honestly those two finding each other would make everything worth it.

SPOILERS BELOW THIS POINT

- WHO ARE YOU, DISEMBODIED PERSONAL TOUR GUIDE LADY

- Marinette once again demonstrates her utter ignorance of the concept of “bad parents”, and “the people you love” shall for Zoé then be ~friends~. Which I don’t usually have a problem with except the implications that these friends will be Kitty Section and while I don’t mind the individual members I, uh. Really wish Kitty Section would just break up already.

- This is a meet cute

- Marinette… has a thing for befriending the friendless, but the only one of them who has gotten even close to being being friendless because they are genuinely socially incompetent has been Marc, and even he was just adorably shy. Kagami should count but the story frames her loneliness as the result of her mother, not her massive awkwardness (it suddenly strikes me re. “Mr Pidgeon 72”, but Kagami has been shown to hang out with Kitty Section a number of times now, and with Marinette’s friends on the insta. Are you SURE you’re her only friend, Marinette?)

- Marinette displays the universal notebook of the easily distracted

- No favouritism going on with mother of the year at least, though not very surprising. Zoé has also clearly been taught to play the part of pleasing her, though not internalised it.

- “Oh Chloé, never change,” I kind of want to say, but the way this show is going she WILL probably have to change some way or the other and if that’s the case I’d rather it be the other way

- Heyyyy is that the kid who was unmasked as Cat Noir at the pool

- oh my god Sabrina

- one day I might talk about Sabrina, and the fact that Chloé is still in her photo in the OP, and the fact that they’re both still in the good guy corner in THAT regard because I’m pretty sure Lila is not there. Boy howdy is Sabrina a conflicted case for me.

- “Cockroaches in her locker” sounds like the dumb man’s version of “Operation: Anthy is a weirdo who keeps a snail in her pencil box”

- things I did not expect out of this episode: The answer to which “A. Bourgeois” made that film with Adrien’s mum. Anyway holy fuck the one thing I wanted out of this episode really happened. Jesus. I did not dare hope but I got it anyway.

- Also: Beneath Emilie’s portrait is that of a woman with Kagami’s face and longer hair and does this mean that André, of all people, is the link between Gabriel, Audrey and Tomoe

- So Gabriel, are these feelings of “being rejected by your family” anything you’ve picked up closer to home? Like, say, the back of your mansion?

- Anyway, welcome to Paris. Be like a native and get akumatised.

- Of all the places Chloé would chose to hide, but hey I’m not complaining

- Either the kwamis all know Cat Noir’s identity, or they can instinctively find each other. Either way I liiiike that we’re getting to see their powers go haywire.

- This is a kind of interesting three-way battle between Marinette, Hawkie, and Chloé.

- Also her telling CN to shut up while she’s giving her civilian friendship speech

- “Please don’t tell my wife about this” oh god the red flags in millions and the fact that I still can’t tell whether this show recognises abuse as abuse because it’s still ~funny~ that Sabrina is doing Chloé’s homework in the closet

- I mean, it IS funny, but only because like all of Chloé (as this episode well illustrates) is so caricatured. Audrey is just… not caricatured enough, some times. Chloé is ridiculous and that’s why we laugh at her, but I’ve known people uncomfortably close to Audrey.

- the irony of Ladybug’s new charms being shaped off of their akuma form

- Once again Adrien is at Kitty Section practice. No Kagami though.

- Zoé’s great big speech o’loneliness is a lesson for us all in telling vs showing and this ending is, for lack of a better word, mawkish. But I like seeing Ivan do something, because I don’t think he HAS ever since. Well. “Origins”

End takeaway: The best thing to happen this episode was André Bourgeois and I ain’t complaining about that. But Zoé is… well. Interesting as someone uncomfortable as the social chameleon? A commentary on Adrien and Lila? Clearly set apart from Chloé who isn’t acting?

Attempts at fitting in with her toxic family aside, she’s just another nice kid who is Marinette’s friend, but this show already has a good dozen other nice kids who is Marinette’s friend. What makes Zoé interesting isn’t anything at all about her as a person, but how she relates to her family.

Which, speaking of, illustrates one peculiar aspect here: The Chloé-Audrey synthesis. The two were introduced by their separation which Chloé desperately wanted to bridge. The separation was bridged - by Marinette of all people - by telling Audrey that Chloé was a horrible, horrible person. After that, Audrey’s appearances have mostly been to act in tandem with Chloé, which she still does at the end of this episode. Does she want to send Zoé away because she’s genuinely cares what the girl does? Is she genuinely upset because of who Zoé’s friends are? Her early interactions with Chloé did not suggest that she’s someone to care enough to pay attention to what her offspring is up to and who they friends were. Yet in both “Maledictator” and here, she’s used as little more than the adult extension on Chloé’s demands. Before Audrey returned to Paris, André would occasionally put his foot down; now, Chloé gets her will by drumming up her mother’s support, because André does not oppose his wife. This is a weird continuation of the beginning where Chloé was struggling to emulate her so as to get her attention. The implication seems to be that Audrey changed her mind about Zoé because Chloé changed her mind about Zoé, and that is a strange inversion of how the Chloé-Audrey relationship was first introduced.

I’m not holding my breath for any more Zoé-André bonding, since the episode also ends with pretty clearly placing Zoé outside the family to which André is still inside. She seems set to be the Harry Potter to the upper class Dursleys. The moral, as it stands after her first episode, is that Zoé exists to be what Chloé should have been. Here’s to hoping that she’ll be something more than the blunt vessel of making a point that never needed to be made in the first place.  

[thesaltyoceanwaves]

Adrien’s Room and Memorabilia: A Sequel Post

Well, I hinted at a similar arc for Adrien in this post, so let’s brainstorm.

CW: mentions of harassment

The major difference between Adrien and Marinette in this instance is that Mari’s room is about her working through her social anxieties and developing meaningful relationships. Adrien’s focus is on his lonely nature, as well as discovering and cultivating hobbies that he really enjoys, and aren’t just forced upon him by his father.

His room starts off with very few photos of his loved ones, namely his parents, Chloe and Felix. These photos are professional in nature, clean, crisp and very much lacking in color. Even Chloe and Felix are behaving for the sake of the photos. Notably, their photos show them when they are much younger, to indicate that Adrien hasn’t spent time with them lately.

There’s a large emphasis placed on the amount of stuff that Adrien has in his room. The video games, the TV, the climbing wall, etc. Everything is completely clean and dust free, because he spends a lot of time in his room, but he doesn’t have anything he’s particularly drawn toward, so whenever he’s done with something, he puts it away and grabs something else. His room is also likely clean due to his strict father demanding he keep up appearances.

The only exception to this are video games, but they are very specific ones: simulators. Particularly, ones that focus on dating and romance. Life simulators, farming simulators, RPGs that offer a romance subplot, etc. Even if the sim only offers the option to make friends, Adrien is fine with that. Stuff like Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons (the ones made by Marvelous), The Sims, Undertale and so forth are right up his valley. And again, lots of dating sims.

Following his mother’s “passing,” and at the start of the show, Adrien keeps a corner of his room dedicated to her. As more time goes by and Adrien gets closer to his new friends, this will shrink down to a photo of the two of them, and most of her memorabilia will be stored away. This will show that he’s open to the possibility of his father dating someone else, as was shown in “Felix”. 

He will often turn to photos of his mother when he wants deeper, more worrying thoughts that he wants to voice and get off his chest, or if he needs advice about something and he doesn’t know who to turn to. S1 would focus more on friendship advice, because in this version, he would need to put in more time and care to make friends (Nino and him would still stay buds, Mari is still crushing on him but is hesitant to approach, and Alya is kind but cautious, with the rest of the class being wary because of his friendship with Chloe). Later on, he’s more likely to ask about plot-relevant stuff, his feelings for Ladybug and Kagami (and romance in general), his growing resentment towards his father, his meet-ups with his friends, and his discomfort with Chloe and Lila’s touchiness. Coupled with Felix’s harassment in “Felix,” this causes Adrien to realize his boundaries are being violated, and to also wonder if he has adopted similar behaviors. He goes to speak with either Sabine, Tomoe or Nino’s mom about the matter (maybe all three to get a variety of perspectives), and then with Ladybug. I would set this conversation sometime after “Frozer,” with him mentioning how he acted there, and apologizing for leaving her in the middle of battle (if the episode isn’t rewritten to include that there).

Overtime, he would start to depend less on talking to Emilie’s photo, and instead talk to whoever he asked for advice. Instead, he would talk to her prior to a larger battle or facing a bigger threat and had something he wanted to get off his chest.  

At the beginning of their superhero career, Adrien is into collecting Ladybug merch - he’s likely to even have one of those “Do it for her” boards set up. He has some Chat Noir stuff as well, but it’s not as prominent. When other heroes arrive on the scene, he’ll have stuff of them too. He would even go so far as to recreate the heroes in his games (mostly in what Sims knock-off this universe would have), and roleplay scenarios with Ladybug. He doesn’t fully get rid of his merch over time, but he does likely downsize as he spends more time getting to know Ladybug and the team.

There’s also the obligatory Ladrien scene that I hinted at in Marinette’s post. To recap, Chat Noir, during an emotional moment with Marinette, mentions that he has Ladybug memorabilia in his room, and that he ought to downsize. Sometime later, Ladybug comes to check up on Adrien for plot-related reasons, and discovers that he “too” collects Ladybug merch. Adrien is notably embarrassed by this, but Ladybug replies by saying that she’s a fan of his as well. This will allow two sides of the ship to feel closer to each other and open up about certain things.

Similar to Marinette, Adrien will start picking up little things as mementos from previous episodes to decorate his room with (a class photo from “Reflekta,” a copy of the movie from “Horrificator,” his autographed Jagged Stone CD from “Guitar Villain,” etc).  I also imagine him holding onto clothing items such as Nino’s hat or Kagami’s jacket, that get left behind after hanging out. Over time, he is eventually gifted a mannequin to display these items.

I remember seeing a post that called into question whether Adrien’s activities were something he genuinely enjoyed or if they were just foisted upon him by his father. I like the idea of a laid out arc that explores what Adrien might like to do in the future, by having him go through various hobbies (sort of like Daphne in “Be Cool, Scooby Doo”). 

One hobby I’d give him from the start is tricking. (For those not familiar, tricking combines moves from martial arts and gymnastics, usually flips and kicks, and can be used to create super cool combos, yes I am biased about this). We often see him showing off stunts in battle and would fit Chat’s tendencies to be flashy. I could also see this becoming a hobby he shares with Nino and Kagami later on, maybe with the three of them sneaking out to meet other trickers at gatherings.

(For those who need visual reference.)

However, I also want to give Adrien a more traditionally feminine hobby. There’s a couple of ideas I had for this, including, again ones that he cycles through as he explores himself a bit more. After meeting Luka and noticing that he paints his nails, Adrien might tiptoe in nail art. I could also see Adrien getting really into writing romance, starting off as a fanfic writer and eventually writing his own novel or comic. Alternatively, he becomes a poet. Maybe he spends an episode learning to sew with Marinette so he can make his own cosplays. Or he starts a cottagecore aesthetic blog, and additionally starts taking care of some plants to give his room some needed greenery.

I think for the sake of irony, it would be interesting to see Adrien eventually take up baking as a hobby. I know there’s a couple of AUs involving this concept already (I forget who it was, though I’m tempted to say @lenoreofraven​ ​ but correct me if I’m wrong), but I like this idea because it would give him something extra he and Marinette could bond over in the future, especially since he doesn’t want to do modelling long-term. It would also give him a good excuse to visit the Dupain-Cheng bakery, and grow closer to Sabine and Tom. Perhaps they take him up as an apprentice, or give him a delivery boy job alongside Luka (giving that relationship a chance to grow as well, as well as a Delivery Boy shenanigans episode).

When he’s either in between hobbies, in a tumultuous state, or growing distant from his father, his room will appear far messier. In the latter case, it may be an attempt to rebel against Gabriel, saying “it’s my room, I can do what I want!” If he’s not comfortable immediately speaking out against his father, he may rebel in more passive aggressive ways. I could also see him roleplaying scenarios in which he tells his father off or planning escape routes for hero patrol or tricking gatherings. I think he would also have padded mats stored somewhere in he case he can’t leave, and wants to practice, or have his own tricking gathering in the house.

As he collects more mementos, they start filling up the empty spaces in his room, so when his father prevents him from leaving the house, he doesn’t feel as lonely. He starts finding ways where, from the comfort of his room, he can hang out with friends (like in “Anansi” where he uses the facecam to see what everyone is up to). More friendly, casual photos give the room some life. These mementos may also cause him to start downsizing on the Ladybug and Friends merch.

He will only attempt to remove them altogether if his identity is revealed to Marinette, and she doesn’t seem to process it well (at least at first). Anything pertaining to her, as Ladybug or Marinette, he may attempt to remove, until he realizes just how present she is in his life. He would then consult his mother’s photo about what to do. 

And similarly to Marinette at the end, when they start dating, he would start to incorporate couple’s photos. I think both of them would have those photo booth strips, but I could also see Adrien commissioning posters of his OTP, LadyNoir, and bringing back some of his merch (in a teasing, well-meaning way). 

[ladyxxdaydream]

tagged by @stillnotovermylordsixth -- thanks for the tag! I've been feeling really inactive with my writing lately so this was a good way to start paying attention to it again (◠‿◠)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines.

Then tag ten authors!

Fic titles are underlined and linked to the fic on my ao3, just in case any of them grab ya and you want to read it! ;D

1) Akihiko Kaji had sworn off love.

Love was nothing more than a shiny lure; bait on the end of a hook. Swallow it, and you were reeled in, gutted, and devoured.

He should have known better. (metanoia || akigetsu & akiharu fanfic)

2) Light snow fluttered down around them as they entered the winter festival, the first flakes since the season began. Konoha didn’t see much snow, and even if it did, it usually didn’t stick.

“What’s this line for?” Kakashi asked curiously, peering around the throng of people filing in front of a wooden kiosk. The words Kissing Booth were stenciled in red paint across the top. “Or rather who is this line f—” He cut himself off when he saw the prominent scar.

(kissing booth || kakayamairu)

3) Kakashi never showed much interest in anything aside from Icha Icha, but even that was exaggerated and calculated. It served several purposes: one, it provided an escape, building a wall between himself and the rest of the world; two, he simply loved it; and three, it allowed people something to fixate on and gossip about that wasn’t his actual life. (thought you'd never ask || kakairu)

4) A new child was being added to the shelter today. Dalma was standing in the door of the hut, introducing him as Kakashi. Iruka had heard stories about people as pale as the moon, who’d been sent by some god Iruka did not know. (déjà vu || kakairu)

5) “I’ve had one hell of a day,” Gekko said, falling into an open chair. “Can I join you guys?”

“You’re already seated,” Asuma said gruffly, puffing on a cigarette. He blew the smoke towards the ceiling, before snaking an arm around the back of Kurenai’s chair. She poked him in the knee beneath the table, a silent way to say be nice. (love me as you are || kakairu)

6) Kakashi was trying to keep his distance, and Iruka… well, Iruka was not. (full-stop || kakairu)

7) Kakashi slid his hands over Iruka’s shoulders and down his chest, placing a kiss to the nape of his neck. Iruka’s skin smelled strongly like the sun, despite his hair being damp from a shower. (busy || kakairu)

8) Kakashi paced their apartment nervously, his bare feet soundless and swift against the floor.

“I should go there,” he announced.

“Bad idea,” Pakkun replied lazily from the floor, his head resting on top of his front paws. “Iruka specifically told you not to.”

(perks of promotion || kakairu)

9) Iruka drank nearly half the beer Kakashi had sent him in one long swig. He didn’t mind the obvious attention Kakashi was giving him—the man was attractive and powerful to boot—but he did wonder why; he wondered if it was the same reason everyone else in this damn bar decided to notice him tonight. (perks of promotion || kakairu)

10) Iruka was putting on his wetsuit, reaching around to pull the long zipper up to the base of his neck. No matter how many times he’d done this over the past three years, he still felt nervous excitement every time. He threw his hair up into a tight bun, slipped the thin sliver whistle over his head, and closed his locker door.

(night at the aquarium || kakairu)

putting the rest under a cut!

11) Iruka clacked his stack of note cards against the desk’s surface, straightening them into a neat pile. He knew he wouldn’t use them but he made them anyway—it was a comfort thing. (brand new sound || kakairu)

12) Kakashi dropped his head into the pillow, dragging his fingers down Iruka’s back beneath his shirt as his boyfriend sucked his neck in a way that he knew would leave a mark.

“Wha—why,” Kakashi panted, “why are you stopping?” he asked when Iruka’s lips left his neck, clunking his forehead against Kakashi’s collarbone with a huff. (tonight you'll let me be your hands || kakairu)

13) Itachi got into his car, the leather seat cool against his legs through his linen pants. He turned on the radio with no need to change the channel. It’d been set to the same one for years — a mellow station that played classical composers and smooth jazz.  When he pulled out of the driveway, he pushed on his bluetooth and spoke out loud:

“Hatake Kakashi.”

(tilt || itadei & kakairu)

14) Iruka buried his nose further into his scarf, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets as he walked briskly towards the bus stop. His car needed to be taken to the shop — something was wrong with the ignition. The engine whined hoarsely when he turned the key, but it never caught. He couldn’t bring himself to spend the money yet; money he definitely did not have. He knew he’d have to shell it out soon regardless, because winter was swiftly approaching.

(language gap || kakairu)

15) Iruka readjusted his messenger bag, positioning it so it no longer whacked against the back of his legs. Campus on a Saturday felt like a different universe. It was deserted, except for the few students who actually went to the library to study. He was usually one of them but that’s not where he was headed today. (i'll fall if you do || kakairu)

16) Iruka heard Kakashi come in, his footfalls uncharacteristically loud—the first indication that he was moping. Coming from Kakashi, that was the equivalent to dragging his feet. (pout || kakairu)

17) “I knew I recognized him,” Deidara squealed, tilting his phone towards Iruka to show him a photo. “It would totally make sense. The eye wrap must be concealing the scar. I’ve read they cover it with make-up for most of his movies.” (use your imagination || kakairu)

18) “Later!” Tomo screeched, making a beeline for the door.

“Tomo,”  Iruka called, his stern voice echoing around the bathroom. Although he’d been appointed Headmaster at the Academy almost three years ago, his teacher's voice had refused to die. It usually worked, but his daughter was at the age where sometimes she would purposely misbehave, just to see what he would do in response. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those times.

(cake substitution no jutsu || kakairu)

19) “Satisfied?” Kakashi chuckled, gently patting Tomo on the back again, despite her letting out a burp a second ago. He rocked from foot to foot in front of the window, bouncing her slightly.

Iruka watched his husband from the kitchen, his heart brimming with affection as he sipped at his tea. It had taken Kakashi the better part of a month to become completely comfortable with holding Tomo. The stiffness was gone from his body now, and his expression had shifted from panicked to serene. He also stopped taking Tomo’s crying as a personal insult, much to Iruka’s relief. Kakashi used to hand her off every time, convinced it was his fault, and that their now five month old daughter simply didn’t like him. (teething || kakairu)

20) Jokes came easily to Kakashi, whether or not people laughed at them was another thing entirely. With Iruka it was usually hit or miss. Sometimes he looked as if he was going to bust a lung, and it left Kakashi feeling victorious. Other times Iruka gave him the side-eye, and continued on with whatever he was doing. His team never really found him funny to begin with, and Yamato, well, he usually only laughed to be polite. (a new chapter || kakairu)

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Sharon who encouraged me to start this blog and helps me with my writing. @Sharon I kept my promise hehe.

MASTERLIST

PREV | WFH 1 - THE TRUCE | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106 @kasandrafaye @veggytaled @svtbitch @stinkyobeymerat @hollypastl @differentballooncollection @o51oc @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper​ @kaisemieita @rizamendoza808 @tomo-uwu @sugardaddykenma​

~

You tossed Atsumu’s sweater into the washer with your other juice covered clothes and made your way to your bedroom. You picked up your phone to text your mom.

Lovely Daughter:

I think I need to take a break from these dates

You still wanted to find a boyfriend and flex on your cousin, but this blind dating thing wasn’t exactly working out. You cringed remembering that your favorite cream shorts might be ruined for good. Taking a step back seemed like a good choice for now. Maybe you’d spontaneously run into someone worth your time. Blonde hair and a cheeky smirk flashed in your mind.

Huh. What was that? You shook your head. That was definitely not happening.

As you finished sending the message you got another notification.

Boss:

Reminder that our team is working from home this week while they replace the carpets in the office. Can you send me the updated prototype of your project by Friday morning?

Ugh. Working from home was bad news for you. Despite being an overachiever, your home was a safe oasis that was completely separated from your work life. When it came to trying to work while your favorite blanket and TV were 2 feet away, you had no self-control. You tried to look on the bright side. Who knows? Maybe this is the week you learned a little self-control.

~

Onigiri Miya. Thursday 6:27 PM

It wasn’t.

You had plenty of inspiration on Monday but took a break to watch one episode of your favorite sports anime and ended up binging the next two seasons. Tuesday you’d pulled up the files you needed to work on but you saw a manga spoiler while browsing Instagram and decided to binge the manga too. Yesterday you were shook about the most recent cliffhanger and got carried away reading fan fiction. It wasn’t until 5 PM that you realized that the prototype was due in a day but by then you were already fucked.

Cut to you grinding like crazy for the past 24 hours. You’d pulled an all-nighter last night except for 20 minutes at 5 in the morning when you crashed and knocked out on your keyboard. When you woke up there was an imprint of the spacebar on your chin. Finally you had most of the prototype completed, so you were crawling out of your cave for some food.

Sweats, glasses, hair messily pulled away from your face. You haggardly stumbled toward the restaurant. You’d exhausted your instant noodle supplies and had been so focused on finishing the damn prototype that you didn’t stop to eat today. You were pretty sure you were going to pass out if you didn’t get some food in your body ASAP.

You pushed the door to the restaurant open.

“Welcom- woah [Y/N]…you doing okay?”, Osamu paused mid rice ball roll and looked you up and down.

“Holy shit ya look like a zombie!”, Atsumu exclaimed from his usual seat at the bar.

You ignored Atsumu’s comment. You had no energy left for making snarky comebacks. “Osamu. Three Minced tuna onigiri and an iced Calpico please and thank you.”

“Sure…”, Osamu gave you a concerned look before turning to get started on your order.

You dumped your things onto an open table and sunk into the seat. You flipped open the laptop that you’d brought with you and started tapping on the keys. There was a big fat error alert on the screen. Great. You tried to edit the file. Another error. Ugh you were so close it was frustrating. You typed a few more edits in. Success! Loading…

Finally. You leaned back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. You heard some familiar footsteps approaching you. Here he comes.

On cue, Atsumu slid into the seat across from you. “Yo what happened?”

“I’m an idiot. That’s what happened.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples. Your head was aching from staring at the screen for so long.

He snorted. “I know a lotta idiots but you aren’t one of them” He peeked over at your screen. “What’s with the laptop? This isn’t a coffeeshop sweetheart”

“Work.” You bluntly replied. You scrunched up your face. Sure his voice was smooth as ever, but right now anything but complete silence was making your head pound.

“You’re in a good mood aintcha?” He smirked. You glowered in his direction, your dark circles making you look extra ominous.

“Stop irritating my customers ‘Tsumu” Osamu smoothly shut Atsumu down. He placed a tray of food on the table. “I got three minced tuna onigiri and an iced Calpico”

“Bring me a drink too ‘Samu”

“Get it yourself ’Tsumu”

An upbeat ringtone started playing from Osamu’s pocket. He pulled his phone out and took the call. “Hey babe…I’m just at the restaurant…no, it’s not that busy…wait…what!” Osamu raised his eyebrows.”…Okay yeah I’ll be right there.” He turned to Atsumu. “‘Tsumu close the restaurant. I need to go help Sharon”

“Huh? Ya can’t just-“, Atsumu tried to protest, but Osamu took his Onigiri Miya hat off and shoved it on Atsumu’s head. Osamu scrawled a note about closing early and taped it to the door on his way out. Atsumu stood there looking irritated as he watched his brother run off through the window.

He turned to you. “Well ya heard him. You’re gonna hafta take your rice balls and work home sweetheart”

Wait. You checked your screen. 15%. Rip. Starting the process while you ate dinner probably wasn’t the best idea, but you needed this to finish loading and couldn’t risk it getting messed up on the trip back up to your apartment. You turned to Atsumu, “I’m sorry about earlier. Please let me stay a little longer. I really need this thing to finish loading”

“No way”

“It’ll only take a second” You pleaded with him. He turned to walk away. “Please. Atsumu”

He paused. Wait, was that the first time you’d called him by his real name? He turned back to you with that devious smile he got whenever he had one of his “brilliant” ideas.

“How ‘bout this? You help me clean, I’ll letcha stay here even though I really should be closing up”

“Deal”

~

Onigiri Miya. 45 Minutes Later.

“I’m pretty sure when we made our deal you said it would take ‘just a second’”. The bashful smile from earlier had long been wiped off his face replaced with the current impatient scowl. You’d finished eating your onigiri shortly after Osamu left, and you two had been sitting at the same table sipping Calpico and watching the loading bar for the last 45 minutes.

“It’s really almost done now.” You were running out of excuses to stall for time.

“Hurry it up. I got things to do sweetheart”, he said and took a noisy sip of his drink.

Okay [y/n] we need to think of a way to stall. You went through your options. Hm. Actually, complimenting people usually works pretty well, especially when that person has as big of an ego as this blondie. Okay you decided on your plan of attack.

“Hey” You smiled innocently at Atsumu. “Thanks again for waiting with me. You’re a lot nicer than I thought”

“How many times do I hafta tell ya that that creepy smile isn’t fooling me?” Atsumu set his drink back on the table. “And was that supposta be a compliment? When did I ever do anythin’ to piss you off?” He leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Says the guy who crashed not one but two of my dates”

“I didn’t do nothin’”

“You were the reason the strawberry juice was on the table to begin with”

“I’m also the reason why you’re still here even though I could’ve kicked you out an hour ago.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“Touche” You leaned forward. “How about we call a truce then.” You held out your hand.

He looked at your hand skeptically. “Truce? That implies we were fightin’ in the first place”

“You gonna take it or not?”, You smiled slyly and waved your hand. “Let me tell you now. I’m not someone you want as an enemy”

“Jeez that’s pretty scary sweetheart.” He leaned forward with his trademark cheeky grin…and was he blushing a bit? “Fine. Truce.” He reached out to shake your hand.

“I know the perfect way to celebrate” He said, rising from his seat. He walked behind the counter and rustled around in the fridge. You heard him mutter, “Where did ‘Samu put it”, as he continued digging around. “Aha. Here it is!”, he declared, finding whatever he was looking for. Atsumu walked back and plopped down in his seat, setting two cups of pudding on the table.

“Haha. Nice.” You picked up one of the pudding cups but noticed a little note stuck to it. “Huh. What’s this?” You pulled off the note to read it. Osamu’s pudding: DO NOT EAT. “Wait a second we can’t-“

Atsumu took the container out of your hands, broke the seal on the cover, and handed it back.

“Atsumu!”, you exclaimed.

“You’re welcome.” He opened his pudding cup and shoveled a spoonful in his mouth. “Mmm”

Well it’s not like you could put it back now that it was opened. You scooped a spoonful into your mouth. Your face lit up. Osamu’s pudding preferences were on point.

“I have a question”, Atsumu asked. “Why were ya tryin’ so hard on those dates anyways? Those guys were obviously trash, and ya don’t really seem like the type that’s desperate for romance.”

What he said wasn’t wrong, and you two were kind of having a moment here. You figured it’d be fine to tell him about it.

“Ugh the thing is” You gulped down another spoon of pudding. “I’m trying to prove something to my family”

“Huh?”

“They don’t think I’m capable of romance, and my shitty cousin loves to rub it in my face. I’m trying to find a guy so I can flex on them”

He smirked. “Hah, that’s real petty”

You pointed your spoon at him. “I don’t wanna hear that from you.”

“Fair point”

Your computer chimed. You both turned to look at the screen. 100% Loaded.

“Yes!” You pumped your fists.

“Finally” Atsumu sighed, scraping the last of his pudding out of the cup. “So, ya gonna help me clean?”

“A deals a deal. Where should I start?”, you said combing your hair out of your face.

“I’ll take the tables. You’re on dish duty”

Atsumu went into the supply closet and came back with a rag. You caught yourself staring as he pushed his sleeves up. Okay the man had beautiful forearms, so what? You quickly looked away.

“You okay [y/n]?”, Atsumu interrupted your thoughts, cocking his head. Shit. You hoped he hadn’t noticed your little slip-up.

“Uh yeah! I got the dishes!”

~

You’d emailed the final prototype and you two were almost done tidying up. The only thing left to do was mopping the floor.

“[Y/N], How about we have a lil challenge”

You raised an eyebrow.

Atsumu brought two mops out of the supply closet, tossing one to you. “I’ll race ya. Last one to mop to the other side loses”

This was stupid there was no way you were about to have a dumb mopping ra-

“Unless you’re too scared”

You gripped your weapon. “Hah, You’re on”

You both stood at one end of the restaurant. Mops in hand.

“Ready” Atsumu clenched his mop. “Go!”

You realized that challenging a pro-athlete to a fair race was stupid. That’s why you didn’t intend to play fair. As soon as Atsumu motioned to take his first step you swiped your dripping mop in front of his foot. He lost his balance.

“Fuck!”

“Haha Loser!”, you turned to laugh at him. Thwack!

Atsumu collided with you knocking you backward. You hit the ground with a thud, securely pinned under him. Shit. He hauled himself onto his hands and knees, looking down at you.

“You cheated!”, he shouted.

“That doesn’t give you the right to tackle me!”, you shot back.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to tackle you!”

“So what!”, you grabbed his collar pulling him back so your foreheads were touching. You both paused. Shit. Did you just do something weird?

You were suddenly very aware of the nice smell wafting off his hair. You gulped. There was a pink blush creeping over Atsumu’s nose. He looked dumbstruck at first but soon a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“Wow [y/n], you’re pretty bold huh.”

“Shut up!”

The chimes jingled and the door opened. You both jumped and turned to the sound.

“Oolala”, the girl who came with Osamu was snickering.

“…is that my pudding?”

~

After that, you’d both apologized to Osamu, properly mopped the floor. You were getting ready to go home now. Luckily neither of you had been seriously injured in your little incident, but any time your eyes met Atsumu would shoot you an infuriating smirk.

As you were about to leave, Atsumu called out to you. “Hey [y/n] I’m gonna need my sweater back soon”

“Oh right! I forgot it at my apartment but I washed it so I’ll bring it by tomorrow”

“Sounds good. Good night [y/n].” As he turned to walk away, he looked back over his shoulder and smiled at you. It was a sincere smile like the one he gave you as he handed you his sweater the other day. You couldn’t help but smile back. This guy.

Your phone buzzed as you started walking back toward your apartment. You pulled it out.

Jerk Cousin:

Family brunch two Sundays from now. Don’t forget you’re in charge of fruit. My mom told me to remind you. She also said to tell you that you can bring a plus one, not that you’d need it lol

~

Onigiri Miya. Friday 11:15 AM

You’d slept like a baby that night, and woke up more refreshed than ever. It was like your 24 hours of hell never happened. You pulled open the door to the restaurant.

“Hey Osamu is Atsumu here? I have the sweater I kept forgetting in my apartment” You rustled through your bag pulling the sweater out. Looking up, you suddenly noticed that the restaurant was more packed than usual, and most of the occupants were looking at you.

“Oya?”

“Oya oya?”

[mari-onberry]

Win-Win

For the Kagami Zine! @kagamizine​

This was a collab with @landturtlealyce’s beautiful drawing

Also on Ao3

During fencing practice, Adrien could tell that Kagami was nervous. She wasn’t as quick on her feet as usual, and she seemed distracted by something. He knew her identity as Ryuko, and she knew his identity as Chat Noir, so he was sure there wasn’t much to be worried about on that front. Also, she wasn’t the type to let that sort of thing distract her. So, he approached her during break. 

“Kagami, are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today.” Despite them dropping their romantic feelings for each other a while ago when Kagami started dating Marinette, he still worried about her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what it was she was going through. 

She was a little startled at the question, since she had been stuck in her own head for so long. “I’m okay, it’s just family problems, I don’t want to inconvenience you with that.”

Adrien would’ve been a little hurt by that sentiment if he wasn’t so worried about her. “Kagami, you can talk to me about anything. And I’m probably the one person who can sympathize with you about family stuff.” 

She gave in, realizing it would be better to tell him. She needed to talk to someone about it. “My mother wants me to go to that charity gala this weekend. And I’m fine with going, but she expects me to bring along a romantic partner. I would bring Marinette, but…” she didn’t finish her sentence, already a little caught up in her own head again.

“Bring me.” Adrien suggested almost immediately. “I know we aren’t dating, but we can pretend to be to get your mother off your back about it. Plus, it would probably make my father happy as well. Win-win.” He smiled reassuringly at her, hoping his suggestion would be a viable solution.

She pondered it for a moment, seemingly thinking through possible outcomes. “Okay,” she said reluctantly, then, “Yeah, that sounds good,” as she realized that it was her best choice right now. It even seemed like a fun idea, since it would be a good excuse to spend time with him. Plus, the Agreste family was invited to the gala as well, so he would be there anyway.

So, they planned it out, and Kagami was planning on telling her mom about it after practice when her mom picked her up. But once practice was over, they walked out together to see their parents talking. Gabriel had chosen this of all days to pick his son up from practice, which was a rare occurrence. “Father!” Adrien said, feigning excitement, a little worried. 

“Son. How was practice?” 

“It was fine,” Adrien answered, too preoccupied to elaborate. He started to make his way to the car before either of their parents could question them on their relationship. He didn’t want to lie, but he was willing to do it for Kagami’s sake. He just didn’t want to mess up their plans to tell their parents individually, since that seemed like the best way to not make that big of a deal out of it. If their story was too outlandish, their parents might get their hopes up about them getting married one day. Unfortunately, Gabriel seemed intent on being the one to mess up their plans. 

“So, Adrien, have you decided who you’re going to bring to the gala?” Gabriel asked before Adrien could escape to the car. Kagami looked at Adrien, realizing he was being pressured into a relationship, just like she was. 

Adrien smiled, seemingly genuine this time, and answered, “Yep!” More excitedly than was needed. “I’m going with Kagami.”

He bought into the lie, probably because he wanted it to be true, and even though their original plans were messed up, this way seemed to have a similar outcome. Then, Tomoe said something that made Kagami’s heart drop. 

“Why don’t you bring that Dupain-Cheng girl along with you, too? I heard her fashion designs have been getting popular lately. It’d be good publicity for her,” she asked them.

Adrien almost laughed from the irony, but answered, “I’ll ask her if she’s available.” He didn’t want to complicate the situation even further, so he thought the best thing to do would be to save that for later. 

They went their separate ways, and before Adrien got in the car, he shrugged at Kagami to say, “I’m sorry.”

Later that night, Kagami was able to call Marinette. Parental controls had been a difficult obstacle, but Marinette found a bunch of different ways to bypass them through Nino, and it had been a lifesaver. She needed to explain what exactly was going on, since even though Marinette was hopefully willing to go along with it, she was more than likely confused. “Marinette?” She asked as quietly as she could, since her mother was asleep in the other room.

“Kagami!” Marinette answered, sounding ecstatic to get a call from her girlfriend. “I was hoping you’d call. The party sounds fun, I can’t wait!” From her words, it became obvious that Adrien had already called her and told her about the gala.

Kagami decided she needed to clear things up as soon as possible. “I’m going to have to pretend to date Adrien.”

“What?” Marinette asked. That came out of nowhere. 

“I asked Adrien to pretend to be my boyfriend while at the gala.” Kagami started, trying to explain her thought process. “I thought it would be easier for him to be my plus one, since both our parents want us to be married, but I didn’t think it would turn out like this. I’m sorry.” 

Marinette let the information sink in. “Alright. Well, I know my family life is much different from yours, but we could’ve just gone as friends. I’m fine with Adrien being there, though, especially if it’ll help get your parents off your backs for a while. Thanks for telling me.”

Kagami blushed– she actually had a reason she didn’t suggest going as friends. “I didn’t think I would be able to pretend to be just friends with you anymore.”

Marinette couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be dating Kagami. She knew that even if they would have had trouble pretending to be friends, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference; they weren’t much for PDA after all. “Alright, I guess I can forgive you,” she teased. “Well, hopefully it won’t be too bad with Adrien there.” 

Kagami agreed and they stayed silent on the phone together for a while, not wanting to hang up. 

“Hey Kagami?”

“Yeah?” Kagami prompted her girlfriend to continue. Her eyes were closed and she had fully expected to fall asleep while on the call. 

“Do you still have feelings for Adrien?”

That was a tough question. Even after they started dating, they were both pretty open with the fact that they used to have feelings for Adrien. Key words: used to. It was just expected that both of them dropped those feelings once they started dating. In reality, that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. 

When Kagami didn’t answer, Marinette elaborated. “I mean, you did go to him first to ask him to pretend to date you. I know you two are friends, but there were other options,” she explained, then realized why Kagami might be having a hard time answering. “You can tell me, Kagami. We promised to be open about these things. I won’t be mad.” That was a guarantee, but Kagami still felt her heart drop when she thought of the consequences if she said ‘yes’. 

“I might. I’m not sure.” 

It was rare for Kagami to admit to not being sure about something. “Okay. That’s fine. Maybe pretending to date him will be a good opportunity, then.” 

Kagami noticed that Marinette seemed awfully fine with her girlfriend having feelings for another person, and Kagami appreciated it, but in this case, she couldn’t help but read into it. Marinette had always been in love with Adrien, and even if she had buried her feelings when she got together with Kagami, it was hard to drop that kind of feeling just like that. She didn’t say anything, though, since the whole situation was starting to stress her out. And maybe Marinette was right; maybe the fake dating thing would help clear things up.

Soon, it was the weekend, and all three of them met up in front of Adrien’s place to go to the party. Gabriel didn’t like having people at his house, but he had suggested Marinette come, so he thought it would only be polite to give them a ride.

Kagami’s breath hitched once she saw her girlfriend dressed up. Marinette didn’t have time to prepare a new dress for this particular event, so she wore one that she designed a couple months ago. Kagami had seen her in a similar dress before, but she never got used to how pretty she looked all dressed up. 

They drove to the gala in near silence, all three of them in the back while Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, and their bodyguard in the driver’s seat. Kagami found it sort of awkward stuck between her girlfriend and the boy who was pretending to be her boyfriend, but she was determined to make the most of it. Gabriel wasn’t looking back at them, anyway, so she took hold of Marinette’s hand, sliding her own hand against Marinette’s to rest it where it always fit perfectly, then set her other hand on top of Adrien’s. His hand was surprisingly soft, and he jumped when he felt Kagami touch him, but he didn’t make any effort to complain or move his hand. 

Once they got there, Kagami was actually buzzing with excitement, though she didn’t show it. Earlier, sometime after her call with Marinette, she had decided that if she had to be here with her girlfriend, she wasn’t going to be forced to pretend they were only friends. She didn’t owe anyone that. Plus, it wouldn’t be obvious unless they kissed in front of everyone. Her only problem was Adrien, and although she knew she didn’t owe it to anyone to pretend to date a boy, she actually quite liked the pretending. Adrien seemed to like it, too. So, she walked into the building with Marinette and Adrien on either side of her, arm-in-arm with both of them. 

Gabriel didn’t seem to care– Kagami was convinced he was there just to impress potential investors– and it didn’t seem like anyone else there cared either. So, they all embraced it. They sat down at a table that was draped with a fancy white tablecloth, and soon Adrien and Kagami’s parents were nowhere to be seen (no doubt busy with work) so they were no longer supervised. 

“You look nice.” Adrien said, wanting to start up conversation, but not knowing how. Then, to clarify, he added, “Both of you.”

Marinette replied, “Thanks, you too,” to be polite, but she wasn’t wrong. Adrien looked good in just about anything, so he couldn’t go wrong in a suit. 

Kagami’s reply to Adrien’s compliment was quite different. “She does, doesn’t she?” And pressed a kiss to the back of Marinette’s hand, much too intimately to be platonic. 

“Kagami!” Adrien scolded, “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones dating?”

Kagami shrugged. “No one’s looking. Besides,” she turned to look at Marinette, “I told you I wouldn’t be able to pretend to just be friends with you.” Marinette blushed, but Adrien blushed even harder. 

Marinette didn’t mind. “I do like this better than having to sit around while your parents deal with business deals.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s not that boring. I’ve been to a lot of these things, and usually the entertainment and hors d'oeuvres make it worthwhile.” He looked around the room, and although it was full of old, rich people, there were at least plates full of tarts, pâté and other small dishes. 

Kagami shook her head, admiring his optimism, but finding it a little naive. “I’m glad you’re able to look on the bright side of things, Adrien, but I’d much rather be doing pretty much anything else right now.” That wasn’t true; she did enjoy being with them, but she would rather they were at a movie, or a concert, or fencing. “We need to do more stuff together, the three of us.” If only their parents would let them. She couldn’t wait until she was old enough to move out. 

“Let’s make the most of our time together now,” Marinette said, already coming up with plans in her head. If only they could be alone, without a hundred people around them. “Do you think your parents would notice if we went missing for a while?”

Adrien was worried about the proposition, since he wasn’t one to risk getting caught misbehaving by his dad, but it wasn’t as if Gabriel cared about him in that particular moment. 

Kagami was fine with disobeying a little if it meant spending this limited amount of time together. “I’m fine with taking that risk,” Kagami answered, and almost instantaneously, Marinette took her by the hand and dragged her into the hallway, where they could hopefully escape unnoticed. Kagami took hold of Adrien’s hand, and he trailed close behind them.

Just because he was fine with the decision, didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about the consequences. “Where are we going?” 

“Relax, Adrien, it’s not like this is the first time we’ve all snuck out, just the first time without a city to save.”

That was enough to convince him. He followed along without another protest after that; after all, Chat Noir wouldn’t worry about this sort of thing. Maybe for the night he could pretend to be his daring superhero counterpart, just without the responsibilities. 

Marinette led them out the back entrance and they were finally alone. They weren’t quite at their destination yet, though, and she finally revealed her plan. “I think I saw an ice cream shop on the way here, only about a block away.” They would have to hurry there and back to minimize the risk of their absence being noticed, but they decided it was worth it. 

Marinette was right, the walk to the ice cream shop was short, but that didn’t mean it was uneventful. Adrien, intent on channeling his Chat Noir persona, felt a bit more confident. But, being the dense and clumsy person that he is, Adrien was still not the best at expressing his feelings. That sort of thing certainly wasn’t as easy when he wasn’t wearing a mask. 

“So, Kagami, now that we’re pretending to date, does that mean I get a kiss?” He teased, knowing it was far-fetched to ask such a thing.

Kagami didn’t see it that way. “Well, we don’t really have to pretend right now, but I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” She liked seeing him flustered, and she especially enjoyed the way Marinette reacted. It was as if she liked her girlfriend flirting with her (supposedly) former crush, despite her better judgement. “My lips are for one girl only,” she said, and Adrien was almost relieved that she had reinforced his suspicions that they were exclusive. As much as he was attracted to the two girls, it was too complicated for him to think about dating them both. Then Kagami added, “But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for a boy,” and that made Adrien look like he was close to collapsing from embarrassment. 

Once they got to the shop, they had decided to share a cup with three scoops: one blackberry, one orange, and one peppermint. It was an odd combination, but it was tasty, and Kagami was glad that they were actually trying out the combination of flavors André had assigned them, even if it wasn’t something they’d order again.

After a half an hour of being absent from the party, they decided they had been gone long enough and started to head back. It was getting dark now, and sunset served as a nice view for their walk back. They didn’t look forward to the festivities that now seemed to pale in comparison to their “friend” date, but it was almost bearable now that they had gotten a half an hour to themselves. 

“Come on, we have a party to get back to,” Kagami said once they got to the back entrance, taking hold of Adrien’s hand and leading him back into the building as he tried to hide the blush on his face. For some reason, holding hands with her felt a lot more intimate than it did earlier in the day. 

That night, maybe she would call Adrien as well as Marinette, and maybe they would talk everything through, or maybe they’d laugh it off as a one-time thing. Maybe a year from now, things wouldn’t seem so simple between them. Kagami decided she could deal with that later. For now, she could just enjoy the way Adrien’s hand clammed up against hers when she winked at him, and savor the quick glances Marinette would give her when she knew no one was looking.

[ddarker-dreams]

Online Love. Yan Shigaraki x Reader [Part 4]

art credit to @detrimentalduo on insta for this amazing art <33 

Part 3

What are you supposed to feel in these moments, exactly?

Shigaraki stood hunching over, body stiff and unnaturally still. Bloodshot eyes scanning the number on the door in front of him repeatedly, as he has been for the past five minutes. This is the door to your apartment, without a doubt. 

The reality of the situation set in, but it wasn’t enough to bring him to his senses. Fantasies for this day had been present on a nonstop loop, his own mind carrying him in delusional directions of what he thought and wanted to occur. 

Similar to the first time he met you, an underlying unease has been present. He still can’t help but wonder if this was all a cruel joke. If you secretly abhorred him, thought him grotesque. That all the attention and benevolence you showed him was a ploy, and that would allow you to have your fun and then distance yourself from him.

His teeth gnaw on his chapped lips, as he clenches his fists roughly. The indecisiveness is driving him mad. He wants to see you, but he still can’t release his own insecurities. It would be easier if he just asked Kurogiri to teleport him back, and to leave this stressful situation all together.

“You’re so adorable.”

The compliment from your first meeting comes rolling back into his head, with it a familiar buzz of excitement. All your cute mannerisms, and excessively doting words that were directed at him. Grimacing momentarily, Shigaraki overpowers his prior concern and knocks on your door.

For a killer such as himself to have weak knees at the mere thought of you felt laughable. But Shigaraki didn’t care. He’s never been one to deny himself what he wants, and he undoubtedly wants you.

“One second!” 

Your voice rings clear, without the restriction of speaking into a microphone that Shigaraki was accustomed to. He is well acquainted with your voice. Having recorded you speaking too many times to count, and listening to it in moments of loneliness or distress. It works wonders on him every time, goosebumps lining his pale skin at every lilt in your tone.

Footsteps gingerly approach the closed door in front of him, pleasant humming coming from the other side. The theme song from one of your favorite games, Shigaraki picks up on. 

Swinging the door open without any reserves, at the sight of Shigaraki a wide smile appears on your face. Unaccustomed to warm welcomes like this, Shigaraki stands still; but you don’t seem to mind. 

“Tomo-kun! It’s so good to see you. I’ve just been tidying up a bit, but I got distracted by BanD Dreamin’s latest event... I haven’t gotten the card yet either and I forgot it ends today,” you explain with a sheepish tone, cheeks puffed out in frustration. “It’s alright though, this is more important. Come on in.” 

“How many more points do you need?” Shigaraki inquires as he walks inside, leaving you to close the door. An embarrassed laugh leaves your lips at the question, not wanting to admit your inability to juggle all your numerous gacha games.

“78,000 or so I think,” you tilt your head, eyes squinting as if it’ll help you remember. “Actually, no. I’m pretty sure it’s more than that. I’ll probably be up all night grinding...” 

Shigaraki gives a quick hum in response, not fully understanding the appeal of gacha games. He’s humored your requests and played a few in the past, but he still prefers games that have a steady sense of progress. JRPGs were unmatched in his eyes, but bringing it up would lead to you debating him for hours on the subject.

Your apartment is small, as you had mentioned before. Sparse furniture arranged to accommodate for one person, but your couch was begin enough to seat two. He spots your desktop set up, eyeing it warily. Yours is a lot less messy than his, and with a lot more plushies set up around. 

“It’s not much, but, it’s nice right? I’ve been saving up to get a new monitor.” you explain excitedly, and Shigaraki takes note of that. He’ll see what he can do to get you whatever you want, but it’ll be difficult to discreetly give you it. 

“It’s not bad.” he comments, before plopping himself on your couch. The familiar setup from your pictures, along with your easygoing personality is successfully easing him up. Much to his surprise, you take a seat next to him immediately, positioning yourself tauntingly close to him. 

Shigaraki brings the hood of his hoodie down, trying to distract himself from your exposed skin. His eyes latch onto your neck despite his attempts, but you’re too preoccupied getting your Switch to work to even notice. 

Fate can’t always be so forgiving, as you eventually look up at him.

“What is it?” you say with a small smile, certainly preparing for a teasing remark. Shigaraki looks away from you, and towards your TV. 

“Nothing. I just noticed how many visual novels you have.” Shigaraki responds dryly, to which you let out a small noise. 

“H-hey! Don’t sound so judgmental,” you whine, playfully hitting his shoulder lightly. The contact sends shivers down his spine, but he manages to keep a straight face. “They were just on sale and I figured why not. It’s nothing too incriminating anyways.” 

“Whatever you say.” 

Playfully sticking your tongue out at him, you proceed to bring up the game you want to play first. Handing Shigaraki your other joycon, you don’t seem to notice how he holds it with four fingers; too focused on the night ahead.

- - -

Shigaraki sees the world in front of him through blurry eyes. A soft groan leaves his lips as he goes to sit up from his previous position, only to freeze at an irregular weight present on his shoulder.

The scene in front of him begins to make sense. The faint glow of the TV in front of him meaning that it hasn’t been used for a while, but he wonders how long he was asleep. When he moves to get up again, he feels the same pressure as before. Looking to his left, his eyes widen at the sight.

Your eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly. Your head had made its way onto his shoulder, along with both your arms hugging onto his arm. Immediately all previous feelings of drowsiness are gone, as his heart beats at a rapid pace.

You had fallen asleep on him.

Gulping, Shigaraki silently mulls over his options. He wants nothing more than to sit here in your presence forever, but realizes Kurogiri must be wondering where he is by now. Glancing over at the clock, his eyes squint to make out that it’s 4:04 AM.

But when he looks back at you, all of those logistics melt away. His mind only consisting of you, and just how vulnerable you are in front of him. 

The crux of your neck is cruelly visible, and Shigaraki desires nothing more than to press his lips against it. The gentle, fruity perfume you wear overwhelms his senses; heart rapidly drumming away as he fantasizes about you.

Recalling how you have confided in him about being a deep sleeper, Shigaraki decides to indulge himself for just a few seconds. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Shakily, he lifts his hand towards your neck. Hovering over the skin, he presses a single finger to your pulse; feeling your heart beat. Excitement pulses throughout his body at the touch, taking note of how smooth your skin is. He runs his middle and index finger down your skin, traversing places he’s only ever dreamed of.

The touches are light as not to disturb your peaceful slumber. Pausing his movements at your shoulder, Shigaraki represses a laugh. You truly are none the wiser as to who he is, and you must feel something if you’d make yourself this vulnerable in front of him. You have to return his feelings, right? You like him too, don’t you? You’re definitely in love with him! It only makes sense.

‘I know they are.’

He would do anything you liked. Anything at all, as long as you were his. Amusing the thought, Shigaraki retracts his hand to his side; wondering what your soft skin would look like with numerous bites and bruises on it. What your face would look like when he touches you, what noises you would make for him as he has his way with you. 

But it wasn’t time for that. Not yet, anyways.

A buzz against his thigh that was surely Kurogiri inquiring as to his boss’ recent activities breaks him from his stupor. Shigaraki quietly clicks his tongue, knowing that his time with his beloved is running short. Though he desires nothing more than to spend every second with you, he still has other work to do.

Getting up as slowly as he can manage, he carefully holds onto your shoulders; before laying you onto your couch. Your face contorts for a moment, but sleep still consumes you. Snapping a few quiet pictures of your cute appearance, Shigaraki slinks off towards the door, a pleased grin on his face.

For now he’ll contain himself. 

[lala-pipo]

(1) WOW! 4 months has passed since you answered my last ask hahaha… so fast… I understand, sometimes when I spend too much time on something, be it working or studying or even recreational stuff I feel burnt out to :D Like I spent 5 straight days last week playing Stardew Valley, now I haven’t touched the Switch lol anyways, I am still enjoying the updates on Dorm Life! It’s slowly progressing but I think it’s good for both of them so far? Taking it one step at a time :3

(2) It’s like they are back at it again with their bantering and anime/fanfic conversations :’) the comfortableness is there but also at the same time it feels unsettling? maybe because we are seeing it from Taem’s POV and he is kinda fidgety (for a lack of better word) or tense about the situation? Hmmm but yeah the ending at the latest chapter though!! Whoooo could have been calling Jong at that time? And the off-character part where he turned off his phone, refusing to take the calls :O

(3) Obviously like Taem we would probably just wonder if it’s Key right, but idk why some instinct telling me it’s not Key like it’s a new part of the story? A new subplot? Lol or maybe it is Key and we are closing that chapter? Uhuhuh I’m just going to theorize in the corner here as I wait for the next update :3 Ah! Yeah, and you said there won’t be any crying moments anymore, so will there be more cheesy things like the end of the latest chapter? Cringe inducing lines and “aww” moments? ;)

(4) Yeah, ofc ofc since to Taem, Key is his “antagonist”, we were bound to kind of see it the same way… in the latest update too, there were a lot of thoughts inside Taem’s head regarding his observations on Key right… like I think there was a part where he thought that Key was looking down on him, or even he thought that Key and Jong should be having stricter? (Idk if that’s the right word) boundaries on things that they should and shouldn’t talk about lol

(5) To be honest, it’s kind of entertaining to see Taem’s train of thoughts on these things like, that almost instantaneous thought in someone’s head that they don’t really share to others. It can be a little bit biased, it can be overdramatic, but ofc I also I understand Taem’s hatred? Or more like insecurity maybe? When it comes to Key (and Jong). It’s the kind of things people think about but not really say out loud hahaha I love it, it makes the characters more whole?

(6) Oh yeahh? I shall be sneaking my way into AO3 to see your replies :3 For a while I kind of realized that you uploaded every 3 weeks? On my Sunday nights, so I timed it perfectly lol recently I’ve been busy too so this one took a while hehehe :D Since my last ask I think you updated twice with chapter 10 and 11! I think chapter 10 was more like “where is this going, what is happening” uncertain section with everyone just passing by time and going with the flow? Ft. mother and Kai hahah

(7) In chapter 11, I think the direction is clearer for them, thanks to the convo by the river!! It was a necessary conversation and I’m glad that they were able to talk about it, after great difficulty :’) Then the chapter was filled with fluff cheese fluff Taem’s thoughts on Key fluff :3 hahaha oh! Maybe I wasn’t paying attention as much but there weren’t many biblical allusions in the past 2 chapters? Maybe it was intentional or maybe not, either way I didn’t notice many of them I think? haha

(8) Maybe ‘cos Taem’s thoughts are filled with “where is this going”, Jong, Key, and then the upcoming exam lol so not so much bible references going on in his head haha… Also!! I saw new fanfics for Jong’s month and I did not read them yet!! So excited, probably will read them as I wait for the updates :D Also!! SHINee x AoT fanfic, yes please omg… I actually searched for one back in 2013-2014? When AoT Anime was just released… we have Pacific Rim AU, so I was rooting hard for AoT AU :’(

(9) Sooo yeah, I’ll look forward to any new fanfics by you in the future too! But please do take time away from it if it tires you out or if you are burned out! It should be an enjoyable thing to do for you :D Anyways! Thank you for the updates! I thoroughly enjoyed the fluff, oh! and thank you for accepting my tomo-choco lol, and I gratefully accept yours! <3 I hope you had and will have an amazing time for the upcoming months! Take care, and stay healthy! – cricket anon

____________________________________________________

Cricket nony!

Wow indeed! It certainly has been a while. How have you been? I have never heard of Stardew Valley before, but I’m glad you’ve enjoyed playing it. But I know that feeling, sometimes I play games for weeks and then I won’t touch them for a year. Humans are weird like that I guess. ^^

I’m glad you’re still enjoying my slow updates. I mean we are about to cross the finishing line. There are only two chapters left to complete the storyline + the epilogue. So yeah. Considering that I already wanted to be done with the story by March – and now we’re nearing July already. Haha – but at least I’m working on it to push this story over the finishing line.

It’s not really a subplot – more like the underlying theme of the story which has been there since chapter 1. If the story was written from Jonghyun POVs it would have been a main theme, but since we’re seeing everything from Taem’s perspective, we just know what Jonghyun shares with him – which is not a lot. :’)

Yes, there won’t be any more tears. There will be a few cheesy moments, but less so compared to chapter 11. :’D Chapter 12 is like the last peak before – hopefully – all ties come together in chapter 13 *knocks on wood*

Oh, Taemin will have a lot more thoughts on Kibum in chapter 12. Lmao The whole situation between Kibum and Taemin is loosely based on something from my own experiences. However, without going too much into detail – let’s keep it simple and say I was the Jonghyun in that scenario. Lmao

Yeah, I think there are plenty of moments in this story in which Taemin thinks a LOT of things but says something very different out loud. I think that’s only human. It’s just better to not share all thoughts one has. :’)

It’s certainly intentional that there are less biblical references after they’ve actually been to church. There are still some left to come, but far less than in previous chapters. It’s supposed to show that Taemin is slowly beginning to find his balance in a way, his way in life? I don’t know how to put it, but he slowly gets more rooted.

THANK YOU! Finally someone who understand my craving for SHINee x AoT fanfic. I really, really want to write one because for some reason I want to write something more action driven with blood, and gore and violence lmao and of course titans. I mean romance is cute – but romance is even cuter if you put it into a dystopian setting where people are fighting for the survival of human kind. A SHINee survey squad would be so cute T_T <3 I don’t really know why no one picked up on yet after all those years – we have so many crossovers in this fandom – and yet a crossover with one of the biggest fandoms out there is just nonexistent. It makes no sense to me. I also always wanted to write a Harry Potter crossover but there are so many out there already – so AoT really lets my weeb juices tingle. Lmao

I remember really liking bmot’s JongTae pacific rim AU…although I still have no idea about pacific rim to this day. :’D I always wanted to look it up because I like the description in their story – it seemed an interesting concept but somehow I’ve never went further than thinking about it.

Thanks for dropping by again, cricket nony! Talk to you in 4 months? Maybe…lmao Take good care of yourself. *waves* <3

[eightysixed]

happier than ever

You call me again, drunk in your Benz Drivin' home under the influence You scared me to death, but I'm wastin' my breath 'Cause you only listen to your fuckin' friends I don't relate to you I don't relate to you, no 'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty You made me hate this city

words: 3.2k plot: emma and tomo’s relationship, in a nutshell. trigger warnings: abuse, assault, drugs, cheating, violence, blood, suicidal ideation, nsfw

Five years is a lifetime when you’ve just begun your twenties. It’s half a decade of years so formative and important that you don’t really realize their importance until they have flown past.

Emma spent those years with Tomo.

[ SEPTEMBER 2014 ]

A twenty-one year old goes to an Outkast concert. She gets propositioned by a guy. Rough, pushy, handsy, it’s enough to make her feel suffocated, plan paths of escape or desperately look for a face in the crowd that could intervene. Then he comes in with his buddies and they all but rescue her. How ironic Emma thinks, years later. What a Disney-ified, damsel in distress moment to have and to meet by.

They spend the rest of the concert together, follow it up with an after hours at Los Coyotes, wolfing down soft shells in between food-spitting laughter. Emma, Tomo, and his two buddies. The energy is infectious, and she doesn’t want to say goodbye at the end of the night. It’s a feeling she has never felt before; those sparks in his eyes that are in hers too, the way he grounds and floors her. They exchange numbers and Emma’s face lights up as she’s getting off her Muni owl: it’s a text from him.

It doesn’t take long for his contact name to acquire an Emoji heart next to it, the girl who ridiculed these kinds of things in high school now finding herself enamoured, head-over-heels, and not caring for the criticisms of formerly cynical self.

[ OCTOBER ] A month later and she’s packed up and moved into his place, about as happy as she has ever been of late; everything in life falls into place with him, just makes sense.

[ NOVEMBER ] He gets エマ tattooed on his collarbone; her name in katakana. She gets 23, his lucky number.

They spend thanksgiving with her mom in Cupertino. Frankie hasn’t seen Emma this animated again in a long time, composes a poem about in her head as the green beans and pumpkin pie are passed around. Later of course, she pulls out the baby photos, much to Emma’s embarrassment and Tomo’s delight. “You were such a fat baby, Jesus,”  Tomo laughs. “She looks like she ate baby Jesus,” her mother quips.

When her mom falls asleep, they sneak out and climb up Emma’s childhood treehouse armed with blankets. They gaze at a sliver of night sky through a gap in the roof as Emma tells him her childhood dreams of flying to space and inventing computers that could contact extraterrestrial life. They kiss, they make love, Emma ponders her stance on marriage being outdated and for chumps and losers next to a snoring Tomo.

[ FEBRUARY 2015 ] Their first Valentine’s day together they drop acid at Pier 39. An irate parent yells at them for making out on the merry-go-round in view of children; have they no shame.

She makes new friends, dozens, someone always at their place as Tomo plays them new tracks, smoke weed together, and watch the oil projector light show make shapes on the ceiling. They talk about the future, fame, and world domination.

They don’t discuss babies because neither of them care for that sort of shit — but they do talk about moving into a bigger place together, maybe getting a dog or two — the breed is subject of many arguments.

[ MARCH ] In peak puppy fever, Emma adopts a two year old rescue bulldog named Tito. It’s the first, tiny sign of a crack in their relationship, of dissent — she thinks she sees Tomo glare at the precious pup when he thinks she isn’t looking. But maybe she imagined it. He does shed and slobber uncontrollably after all, and her boyfriend happens to be a clean freak.

[ JULY ] That summer, Emma braves a plane once more to see Tomo play in Atlanta. His set is off the walls and for the first time, she is amazed to see just how many fans he has, how far this boyfriend of hers has come from making tracks in his living room. It’s just too bad she is fast asleep when he tiptoes out of their hotel room to meet one of said fans for a back-alley blowjob.

They roadtrip across the South to play some more venues and the pattern repeats itself in Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico. She wakes up in a cold sweat one night in Vegas, confused as to why he’s gone. “Out getting food. Got hungry.” The message hits her in a weird place, but she is tired, sleepy, and in a haze; Emma accepts, does not question. He even returns with some Taco Bell for her.

Timeskip — 3 years:

[ APRIL 2018 ]

Emma is on her hands and knees in a bathroom, vomit dripping off the toilet rim. She can’t remember how or why she got here, but she’s here. Everything seems to be swimming backwards. Eventually she is able to collect herself off the floor, splash water against her face and wall-to-wall stagger back out of the bathroom. It didn’t work, she’s purged the worst of it but still feeling funny. “Oh, Emma, there you are.” A man’s hands wrap around her. He says he’s friends with Tomo. Says he’ll take her to him. Fade to black.

Waking up with strange bruises should not become a norm, but it does. Emma dismisses it, goes to work, does her best.

Things with Tomo are a violent rollercoaster; some days are great, some days nondescript; and some days downright nightmarish. They fight, throw shit, break shit, yell at each other. Things almost border on the unacceptable as words turn into threats, threats turn to action. A hand around the throat; a body pinned to the wall — her body, of course. His weed grinder he threw that hit her in the head which he swore he’d meant to only toss at the wall. It never crosses a line into the unacceptable, though. That’s what Emma tells herself. He might push her down on the bed, sure, but a bed was soft. He might squeeze her throat in the heat of an argument, but never so much that she’s passing out. He doesn’t hit, kick, or punch her. That was what abusers did, not him. 

She tells herself he can’t help it, his mother used to punish him and his father didn’t love him and now he lashes out the only way he knows how, on the only person he can. He didn’t grown up in as loving a home like she did. He had his reasons. It was okay. They were okay. And the makeup sex afterwards? The best ever.

[ MAY 2018 ]  A month later and Emma is walking in on some girl riding Tomo’s dick like the world was ending, right there on their couch. On their goddamn couch they picked out together, hauled up the stairs with the delivery men. Somehow, the worst part about it all, Emma’s fucked up brain tells her, is that Tito is there to witness it. Her innocent, furry son, witnessing his ‘dad’ for all intents and purposes, cheating on his mom. A ridiculously thought but one she has nonetheless as she’s driving away, Tito next to her in the passenger seat. She goes to sleep at a friend’s and sobs the entire night.

Despite herself, she doesn’t break up with him; but the rift is a mile wide and constantly palpable. Tomo becomes relentlessly apologetic. Not only does he beg forgiveness, he does it live on-air at a radio station, on social media, Emma bombarded by strangers she doesn’t know writing her to take him back. Then he goes and uses her personal kryptonite pulls a Lloyd Dobler outside her work with a Cocorosie song she was absolutely weak for. She hates making a public scene but the sentimental part of her is melting at the gesture, the boombox, all of it. Emma stays. He’d been a shitbag, but he was her shitbag, with all his lovable and terrible qualities wrapped into one person, and she just had to take the shit with the good. Because there was no one else she’d rather be with, ripping side-stitches from too much laughter at four in the morning, tears in her eyes for a good reason this time, from one of his horrifying jokes. 

He was hers and she was his, that’s just how it was to be. Well, as much as she could call him hers when he seemed to be everybody else’s in the process.

Emma does ridiculous, degrading, uncomfortable things in the name of love, and yet in the end she can’t hold on to the love she had for him in the beginning. Way back when they were going up on that ferris wheel at the pier and he looked at her like he had nothing but love in this world, for her. That was what hurt the most, because now the ferris wheel only went down.

There are threesomes, fivesomes, sixsomes, so many bodies in between hers and the one she loves, all in the name of exciting him, holding onto him, trying to be something for him that measured up to Enough. But none of it is enough. None of it makes him happy, nor did it make her happy. She gives him an inch and he takes a mile and then demands more, smiling with blood in his mouth.  She breaks down and becomes something she doesn’t recognize in the mirror. Whether it was an act of revenge or desperation, or finally wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, Emma sleeps with Corey, one of his best friends. She takes pictures, sends them to him “by accident”. She hates herself through it all, every moment of it, mostly for what he made her into. And yet, underneath all the layers of attempts at hurting him she was really just crawling on all fours, begging him to love her again, need her and want he the way he did in the beginning. Craving to get that first hit back, the one she had been on a residue high off of for four years, the one that now tasted metallic and rancid in her throat.

The worst part? Tomo doesn’t care. He texts her back, telling her to have fun, to send more pictures. She’s never felt this hollow, this empty, this non-entity of a being. The day of her high school graduation flashes in her mind, her dad telling her to never lose her identity, the core of what made her, her. Emma took that core and probably threw it into the Pacific. Somewher between Japan and California, it lies at the bottom of the ocean. 

[ APRIL 2019 ]

Turns out, Emma could draw a line, and that line was becoming accessory to a drug deal. She knew Tomo sold on the side to make up for all the money going into the records, but it had always been a few pills here and there, nothing big. But this? Fentanyl, Xanax, bricks of coke and hash? It was a lot. It was too much.

He sells the drugs and her to go with it, and that’s the end right there. The package she delivers to the apartment he asks her to deliver it to turns into a hostage situation, and she leaves hours later, bruises and caked blood on her. She can’t go home, doesn’t want to. She wants to jump off the bridge she’s crossing from Oakland back to the city. Any bridge, any of them would do. She understands why people jump from the Golden Gate now, or maybe always had. She was there now, climbing the railings, she was ready. She wanted that plunge so badly, would be sad to leave one parent, but good to be reunited with the other. Maybe there she’d be happy, maybe there she’d find peace. 

She calls Ben that night. She’s dry eyed and unemotional, but as soon as she gets the right words, verbalizes her situation, she’s sobbing again. Tomo is out of the city, across the country in Philly on tour. Now was the time, if there was any time for it. She’s not even done with the call when Ben is getting in his car to drive to her. It’s 6 hours from Ojai to San Francisco; he tells her he’ll be there in five. She never deserved a friend like him and never would, Emma thinks as she packs, hastily because somehow Tomo walking through the front door as a ‘surprise’ wouldn’t be out of the question. In the end, she can’t pack everything, has to leave so much behind, her records, books, knickknacks. Five years in this apartment and she’s leaving all of it behind, making a getaway in the middle of the night like some kind of burglar.

By three in the morning he’s here, and they get to packing her suitcases in the car, stacking them as best as they fit in his trunk and backseat, all of Tito’s things and then Tito on a bed in the seat in the back. Emma is in busy mode, stacking and packing everything as fast she can, still somewhere in the back of her mind thinking Tomo would appear at the last minute, and how with Ben here, things could get ugly. She doesn’t want them to get ugly. She loved him far too much to see him have to deal with Tomo, the only person in that specific firing line should be her and no one else.

They drive off. She only feels herself unclench an hour out of Daly City, somewhere in between the Bay and Southern California, where she can exhale. She’s still looking behind them constantly, wondering if every passing car could somehow be him. The saddest, most desperate part of all this that a part of her wants him to have followed. One last ditch attempt to get her back. An all out attempt, one where he would get on both knees and apologize, swear to never be this way again and follow through with it, because he was her person, he was her only person, there was nobody else in this world for her but him, but what do you do when you had to run from your person in the dead of night?

She pulls her raincoat tighter when they stop to get gas, a cold and windy middle of nowhere gas station. She’s not sure how she ends up embracing him, but they’re in it, and feeling someone’s arms around her, somebody that actually cares, who’d never hurt her, who was family, was her mom and his sister and everybody she loved rolled into one, feels like a reprieve. She feels like dirt for making him do this, making him worry, Emma was a piece of shit for that.

She says as much. He tells her to shut up, that she’s nothing like that and this was nothing that he wouldn’t have done for her on any night, any time at all. And maybe that, that was the night she fell in love with him a little bit, or realized she had always been, all along, but God likes to play Lucifer’s games with the little lives he watches over, and it wasn’t made to be, too late anyway since she’d left her heart in somebody else’s hands where it would stay. And he doesn’t need a mess like her anyway, just thinking of the name Catarina was enough. It had been five years but she still remembered the day like yesterday. How low he had been back then. How they would get high together and feel miserable together because at least they had that. They had Weetzie too, but she hadn’t experienced loss like they had, she sympathized but she’d never know what this particular slice of hell was like. But Ben and Emma knew. She knew it in that part of her ribs that met his, and she did not know what she would do if she didn’t have that, have Ben Abrams in her life. 

[ MARCH 2021 ]

Fast forward two years, and the ex is in town. Here, in Los Angeles. That very ex you worked so hard to forget, to heal from, to act like he wasn’t there. And yet, reminders of him were constantly there, everywhere. She doesn’t tell her friends, doesn’t tell anybody he’s in town, just balks when his so called best friend turns up in her neighborhood. She nearly grabs Tito and runs the other way, but it had been too late for that and they have a forced, awkward catch-up. He’s oblivious to anything happening, had barely known about her and Tomo breaking up. Figures, Emma thought, that he would act like nothing happened at all.

He’s in town, and every day she goes to work dreading something happening. She thinks she sees him outside the tattoo parlor’s window, but it’s someone else entirely. She’s losing it again, losing sleep, falling prey to her nightmares. Has a boyfriend now but even that doesn’t help, if anything, he’s a guilty reminder of just how little progress she had made, because she couldn’t devote the time and attention somebody like that needed in her life. Not when all she could think about was him.

The worst part is that once he’s long gone again, back up north, she’s feeling that hollow feeling again. Feeling upset that he didn’t seek her out, didn’t come see her. Even though she knew what an unmitigated disaster that would’ve been, the horrible, rotten part of her wanted it. Of course it wanted it. Two years and her skin still itched for him like an addict longing to be in the throes of fullblown relapse. But he didn’t track her down, call, or text, and that was that. Her only run-in with him involves a party flyer papered on a wall, his name in big stylized letters as the headlining DJ at the club. She stares at that flyer for a little too long, it burns itself in her eye like she’d looked at the sun for too long. And then she does the worst thing she could probably do, go on instagram. Only to find he has a new girlfriend. A brunette with tattoos who looked fun and flirty and everything she had been all those years ago.

That was the last tip of the scale. She reactivates her Tinder, finds some half okay looking guy, makes plans to meet him that night. It’s terrifying, so terrifying going through with, but she gets sufficiently drunk, then high on top of that, and goes through with it. Thinking of another boy’s name the entire time, his face, his body, hands and all the rest. Twelve hours later she’s leaving his apartment, no longer the nun of two years she’d become and feeling shitty about that on top of everything else. It was probably time to go see Karen again she thinks, smoking a cigarette under the sun that melts her while waiting for her Uber home. Thanks friends, thanks family, I’ve made terrific process with all your help and am now back to square one. Thanks for everything.  

Maybe in a decade’s time. 

Maybe she’d be over it by then.  

[danganronpa-ea]

DR: EA2 Chapter 5 Deadly Life - Class Trial part 3

To Read the Prologue click here;

Prologue: part 1 | part 2

Chapter 1 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Chapter 1 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2 |  CT part 3

Chapter 2 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Chapter 2 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2 | CT part 3

Chapter 3 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Chapter 3 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2

Chapter 4 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2

Chapter 4 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2

Chapter 5 Daily Life: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Chapter 5 Deadly Life: Investigation | CT part 1 | CT part 2

Chapter 6 Deadly Life/Epilogue: Investigation | CT | Epilogue

Anyway, all credit goes to respective owners.

I couldn’t help but think this person did it and honestly there was no one else to consider the victim… but don’t worry, I’ll take over for you since… I need to be proud in myself.

 Kobayashi Eito: Okamoto Fuji… is the victim of this case and her killer is Hamasaki Hana…

 Mori Miwa: Wait, so your saying Hana-chan killed Fuji-chan, I… why would she do that?

 Katou Doi: I mean if anything – those 2 seem like best friends, I can’t see what the reason was…

 Kimura Tomoe: But counting what we discover so far, it seems the 2 were working together.

 Hamoponi’s Creator: So you believe I’m one of them, do you have any proof?

 Proof… well, I know you did it because…

 Kobayashi Eito: >Hana’s hair, …

 Yep that is one of the clues and the next, what else was left as a hint…

 Kobayashi Eito: >Blood on Drain, there it is!

 Kobayashi Eito: myself, Rai-san and Doi-san went to the shower room and discover that while you were cleaning the blood off, we also discover Hana-san’s hair… meaning, she’s the one that killed Fuji-san and both of you plan it.

 Hamoponi’s Creator: I see then here’s a question for you and I’m sure you’ve figure it out… Why am I working with Hamoponi’s REAL creator?

 Esumi Masa: Why? Well counting that we know Sunako-chan is Hamoponi’s creator, then you both have the same reason… right?

 Hamoponi: Indeed, the thing is this person here and me have a share reason to work together and counting that Haku was planning to harm my creator – I decided to work with this person which… I have a strong feeling a few of you know what my function is, correct?

 That function of Hamoponi’s – it something he does if we’re a danger to Hamoponi’s creator… that has been in the rules and even if we get the killer wrong or wasting time and that function is…

 Kobayashi Eito: >Hamoponi’s function, there it is!

 Kobayashi Eito: Your function is that if your creator was endangered or there is a threat to them, you would do anything to protect them – even go against us, right?

 Hamoponi: Well, seems your smart to figure that out sonny… but yes, that is my function and how my AI is.

 Mori Miwa: So if that’s the case, then Sunako-chan is alive and hidden somewhere…

 Katou Doi: Then, she isn’t dead and we can try to search for her!

 Hamoponi’s Creator: Then if that’s the case… then explain the entire case and then I’ll reveal if it’s true or not…

 Nakahara Rai: Very well, then let us begin… but you better explain why Fuji-chan died then…

 I could see that Rai-san is pretty upset about this but I think maybe after I explain it over… I think will get a bigger picture…Right, time to figure out what happen!

 CLIMAX REASONING CHAPTER 5

 Kobayashi Eito: I get a feeling who the culprit is, honestly from the sound of it – they aren’t the type to like arguing but did try to do as much as they can to defend this person… I’m sure this person will trust us then…

 CLIMAX RETURN CHAPTER 5

 Kobayashi Eito: This is the truth of the case!

 Kobayashi Eito: I guess the time will start is around night time, while <everyone was heading back to the lodge>, two people stay behind… <Fuji-san, the victim and the culprit> which, likely the 2 met Haku if I had to guess and were convince to set up a murder plan…

 The reason was <to protect Hamoponi’s creator>, which when almost everyone came back… <Tomoe-chan had gone to bed early, as did Miwa-san> however one person did not do so which was <Doi-san, who seem to be thirsty> which as he was getting a glass of water, he saw something…

 <Masa-san had place a letter on the table in the dining room and left for the pool room> which this letter was direct to <Hamponi’s creator> now… your curious who that person is? Well, <Masa-san had ask Rai-san to approach this person and bring the memory gun> which that person he approach… <was Sunako-chan, Hamoponi’s true creator and the person Fuji-san and our culprit> try to protect. She had receive.

 However as <Masa-san was waiting at the pool> that’s when the murder plan was set… <Our culprit was the one that shocked Masa-san, knocking her out> but as Rai-san was making to the pool along with Sunako-chan, <Fuji-san approach the 2, likely for the murder plan> I’m not sure how Rai-san could forget but it must be due to the memory gun which <Sunako-chan was taken somewhere safe> if I had to guess…

 After getting the memory gun and hiding Sunako-chan, that’s when the plan started… <first Fuji-san shot Masa-san with the memory gun> then she gave it to <the culprit> which then they killed Fuji-san…

 After <shooting Fuji-san in the head, they wrap up the body in tarp, tied it up and place her body in a bag> and then <threw her body in the water> ending the girl’s life however there work wasn’t done yet…

 After cleaning themselves up and leaving behind evidence they threw <the broken voice changer and even place the letter> just to mess with us as then <our culprit spoke and made there voice sound like Masa-san> which with memories wipe and hearing her own voice… I would not blame her if she was confused after she woke up…

 As then <the culprit threw away the taser gun> and disappear to parts unknown until morning where <Masa-san woke up and rush over to get us> which we all came and <saw the body under the ice> which <the culprit and Hamoponi appear, pretending to be the real one who’s hiding now> a we speak…

 That’s the true of the case or what we got so far, now maybe it’s time to reveal yourself…

 <Hamasaki Hana, the Ultimate Surfer – you… were the only one I can see agreeing with this, right?>

 CLIMAX RETURN CHAPTER 5 END!

 Kobayashi Eito: Well, that’s all I got from this crime and while sure I got some bits wrong but, that’s what I discover so… Hana-san, maybe it’s time to reveal yourself.

 Hamoponi’s creator: …

 Kimura Tomoe: So it was a murder plan by culprit and victim…?

 Mori Miwa: Seems to be the case,…

 ???: Well, for the most part you got… some bits wrong but I won’t argue, you got nearly everything perfect so…

 As then the person step out of Hamoponi’s seat and reveal themselves to be Hana-san who look to be having a tearful smile…

 Hamasaki Hana: Congrats, I’m the killer of Fuji-san… good job…

 Hamoponi: Then it seems you all have made your choice and the culprit has admitted, then go and cast your voice...

 RESULTS:

Hamasaki Hana – 8 votes

 TRIAL CHAPTER 5 OVER, ALL RISE!

 As the trial was over and I got off my podium, I turn my attention to Hana-san who… had her eyes close which I had to ask the one question.

 “So… you and Fuji-san agree to set up a murder to protect Sunako-chan?”

 I asked which those remaining looks to the surfer who didn’t seem as bother by the question which she look to the ground with a frown. “Yes, actually at first I was against it but Fuji-chan she… was going to do anything to protect Sunako-chan and counting my fear that Masa-san might do something which… Haku had say that she would go to any means to get the truth; even violence which… I was wrong.” She admitted which she turn to Masa-san with a sadden expression.

 “I’m… so sorry for doubting and even questioning you, I really should of listen to you after all.” She apologizes which Masa-san look to the ground. “So Haku convince you as well? He… really wants me dead, doesn’t he?” She muttered which my attention was still on Hana-san.

 As then Miwa-san folded her arms and spoke. “So, you know where Sunako-chan is? If so then can you tell us?” She asked which Hana-san shook her head. “Well, I would of course but I think Haiiro should be the one to show you the location…right, Rai-san?” She asked as my attention turn to Rai-san.

 The electrical engineer had a serious expression which Doi-san was surprise by this. “Haiiro? But… isn’t his name Nakahara Rai?” He asked which Hana-san shook her head as then she took what look to be the memory gun. “Well then, maybe it’s time to get your memories back then…” She spoke.

 “Wai-Wait! Hana-san! I-!”

 As before I could yell, I got hit, I suddenly felt dizzy as then suddenly it went dark as I fell to the floor…

 …

..

.

 As then I open my eyes and had this headache of sorts, I saw the skies that it was nighttime… we must have been out for hours.

 However, as I slowly got up and started to rub my head as looking to see Hana-san was gone while Masa-san, Tomoe-chan, Doi-san, Miwa-san were on the floor like me but… the one I assume was Rai-san who was the only one that stood up. He was looking to be waiting for all of us to get up as our attention was to him.

 “Well, I guess seems like I do owe you all an explanation, correct?” He asked as Tomoe-chan slowly got up as I did the same which she seems to be looking at him. “Yes, we uh… want to know… are you Haiiro, the Ultimate Thief?” She asked which he gave a firm nod.

 “Yes, I am and it is my true talent that I wish to be kept hidden from you all.” He spoke which as the others were getting up and looking at the now claimed ‘Haiiro’, he continues on. “If you wish to know my reason, it was so that way my own identity wouldn’t be known and the fact I’ve done crimes in the past – it was information I kept hidden about for my time here and at Hope’s Peak…” He explained which as then Doi-san rubbed his head.

 It seems he was suffering from a headache. “Ye-Yeah, I… do recall that you never told us that was your talent, I mean – it’s like that Ultimate Animator that I’ve seen in class but he was really the Ultimate Imposter and-…” He paused as he realizes. “Wait, I… I think I got all my memories back! Guys you remember anything?!” He asked as he looks to us which I gave a nod.

 I started to recall what happen, my time at Hope’s Peak and… the tragedy and the parade, all of it was coming back!

 As then Mori-san had tears in her eyes. “Oh gosh, we remember everything – so we were all classmates for years, but the parade had started and… I suggested for us to go the Shizen Resort seeing as I own it due to my grandmother passing a year ago.” She spoke which then Tomoe-chan look to the ground, seeming upset.

 “I… even recall the parade that was happening outside, I was very worried for my friends and even text them before we left on the plane and the pilot was…” Everyone’s attention was to me which I gripped my first.

 “Kobayashi Hisao, the Former Ultimate Pilot… my older brother, which I guess you guys still have him, right?” I asked which now I recall everything I remember making a deal…

 I was told to not say who my brother or even my own talent as well then I look around and realize. “Wait, where’s Hana-san…?” I asked which Haiiro went silent as he spoke. “Likely went to drown herself in the pool…” He spoke which I went pale. “What the hell, guys let’s go!” I shouted as I rush out of the trial ground as I hope to god I can make it!

 I heard people yelling after me but I rush out of the lodge and kept on running, I had no time to speak or yell back but I needed to get to Hana-san before-!

 But as I got to the pool I… stop as I stare at the remains of the surfer who was in the pool as then she drowned herself.

 Hamasaki Hana… was dead which everyone rushes over and stop in there tracks too. “She… must of felt guilt if anything, right?” Tomoe-chan asked which none of us wish to answer this question which after a few moments.

 Masa-san gave us a sigh. “If anything, this would give us a reason to get to Sunako-chan which if that’s the then… Haiiro-san, can you tell us where she is?” She asked as she had her arms folded looking at the thief who seem to be straight face then spoke.

 “Well, she should be in the place you discover Hamoponi’s creator, the cabin however I think that Haku might be after her too so… we better prepare ourselves.” He spoke which Doi-san and Miwa-san look to each other then at Haiiro-san who seem a completely different person which I look to all of us.

 “Then if that’s the case, we better get to her and prepare for a fight, c’mon guys let’s get to our room and prepare weapons and a fight!” I spoke as those around me; Masa-san tipping her hat, Doi-san seem pumped, Miwa-san had her arms cross which she seem please with herself, Haiiro-san took out some device and Tomoe-chan had both her hands to her chest.

 Seems we all were prepare to fight for our lives…

 --

 As the gang had prepare to fight, Hamoponi had disappear after the trial as he rush off to the location where his creator was which with a few knocks she opens the door and had her glasses on. “With your appearance, I assume Big Sis Fuji and Hana-chan are dead…?” She asked which he gave a nod.

 She looks to the ground as she let the gray horse in which she closes the door which she locks it, as then she walks over to the photo that contain her, her mother and Hamoponi when he was just a toy.

 “Mommy… I’m so sorry that I had to remove your memories entirely, I… was scared to face them on my own; I guess Masaru-kun was right… I was a coward for running away but, I won’t do that anymore – I won’t run away and I’ll accept all I did.” She spoke as her hands turn into fist, seeming determined as ever.

 “When the time has come, I’ll… help the remaining survivors take down that bastard Haku, he won’t get away with trying to start a killing game ruining our chance of survival we… must not despair in dying, we must hope to survivor!” Spoke the words of the young child.

 However, it seems someone was watching the cabin… seeming prepare to attack the person inside when she leaves…

 It is time for the end…

 Chapter 5 – The Despair of Dying – END

 Remaining Survivors: 7

[flipomatic]

A New World Chapter 15: Center Stage

Author Note: There’s some stuff going on with RAS in this chapter, which I might consider expanding on more with a spin off at some point.

First Chapter Previous Chapter

__________________________________________________________

It was a hot, stifling summer afternoon. When Ako and her friends reached their destination, it was a relief to escape the heat.

The mall was cool, but it was unpleasantly warm again inside the arcade. Ako, Rokka, and Asuka had come straight after school, taking the train before walking the final stretch.

Ako was super excited to go; she’d even made sure to bring all of the pocket change she’d been saving. When she found a coin under her desk at school today, that was just an extra bonus.

She led the way inside, looking around with wide eyes at all the flashing games. A wave of noise washed over her, as each game competed for her attention. She hadn’t been here in a while, so there were definitely some new ones.

“Where should we start?” Ako asked, spinning to see more of the arcade. There was a cool new light gun game, oh and a taiko drum game that looked super awesome. She couldn’t ignore the claw machines either. Those large plush animals were too fluffy to resist.

“Why don’t we make a loop?” Asuka suggested, gesturing to the right side of the arcade. The light gun games were over that way, which Ako absolutely wanted to try.

“Let’s go!” Ako pumped one fist in the air, turning to follow the suggested path.

The three teens only made it about ten feet before they stopped at one of the games. It was a large machine with two huge screens, with a large table in front it. A light gun was hooked up on each side, painted in bright neon colors. An indent near the bottom of each side housed a pedal, likely for taking cover in the game.

Rokka stepped up to one of the guns, picking it up confidently. Ako took to other, pointing it at the screen with both hands.

“Have you played this before?” Asuka asked as she stepped up between them.

“Nope.” Ako leaned down to insert a hundred yen coin. Then she took position, ready to fire at the game.

Rokka did the same on her side. “Just once before, when I came with Masuki-san.”

“Oh?” Asuka arched one eyebrow. “How’s it been going with her?”

“T-the same as before.” Rokka almost dropped her light gun as she stumbled over her words. Ako glanced over at her, confused by her reaction. She already knew that Rokka was spending more time with Masking this year, but that was the stutter of someone with secrets to spill.

Ako would’ve asked what she meant by that if Rokka hadn’t fired her light gun at the screen, starting the game before Ako could ask.

A tutorial started to play on both screens, pulling Ako’s attention to it. She learned how to make her character duck behind cover, how to reload her gun, and how to shoot at enemies. It was all easy; though this was a new game, she’d played this type many times before. Her skill level was definitely an A+!

Then it threw her and Rokka into the fray, with waves of enemies spawning around them. Ako fought as hard as she could, shooting every enemy in sight. That didn’t stop them from shooting back at her. It was hard to remember to duck into cover until it was too late.

Before long, her hp had hit zero. The screen flashed with ‘continue?’ as a timer counted down. Ako set her light gun down, perhaps some other time she’d try again.

Rokka, on the other hand, was still going strong. She had about half her health and looked dead serious as she expertly dodged the enemies.

“Gettem!” Ako cheered her on as she made a kill. Asuka had moved to Rokka’s other side and was rooting for her as well, though much more quietly than Ako.

When Rokka made it to the next boss, her fortunes started to change. The boss kept destroying her cover, forcing her to fire out in the open. It hit her a few times, which marked the end of her run. The same ‘continue?’ message appeared, taunting the player to add just one more coin.

Rokka placed the light gun in its holster with a smile. “This one is pretty good.” She said, before asking Asuka if she wanted to try it, but the other teen said she’d pass for now.

The three walked away from the machine, continuing their circle around the arcade. They next approached the crane games, all full of large prizes.

They stopped at one full of medium sized figures, where Asuka tried to bump one from its stand. Rokka and Ako watched with wide eyes as she nudged it, but unfortunately it remained right in exactly the same spot.

As Asuka put in another coin to try again, Rokka reached in her pocked to pull out her phone. She had been smiling before, yet she grimaced as she looked down at the screen. She tapped on the bottom of her phone with both thumbs, probably texting someone, before putting it back in her pocket.

Rokka pulled out a folded piece of paper from that same pocket, looking up at Ako. Ako wasn’t paying any mind to her, as she was engrossed with Asuka’s second failure at getting the figure.

“Hey, Ako.” Rokka called her name quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the arcade.

Ako still heard her, though she wasn’t sure exactly what she said. “What is it?”

“Is Roselia busy two Sundays from now?” Rokka’s hand, the one holding the folded paper, fidgeted with the corner of it.

“Hmm, lemme check.” Ako took her phone out and opened the master calendar, clicking to the asked about date. “Just rehearsal, why?” Sunday was usually the best day for the whole band to practice together.

Now Rokka lifted the paper, holding it out to Ako. “RAS is playing at a summer festival. One of the bands dropped out, do you think Roselia would want to perform?”

Ako accepted the paper, unfolding it. It was a colorful flyer, advertising a summer music festival featuring local bands. “I have to ask, but that would be awesome!” Ako snapped a photo of the flyer and sent it to the Roselia group chat.

“RAS wants us to play with them!” Ako typed after sending the photo.

“Looks interesting. If we cancel practice we could do it.” Sayo replied quickly, as usual. It seemed like she was on board.

Rinko was next. “It looks like fun.”

“We haven’t performed in a while.” Lisa chimed in. “What do you think Yukina?”

Yukina could be seen typing for a few moments, slower than the others. “This will be the next step on our path.” After all these years, Ako knew that was a yes.

“Yay!” Ako added a smiling emoji.

“Ako, can you get the organizer’s contact information?” Lisa asked an important question; they would need that to get everything ready.

“For sure.”

Ako grinned as she looked back up at Rokka, who was waiting for her to finish texting. “Roselia is in!”

Rokka nodded once, still with a hint of unease in her expression. “Chuchu will be happy.”

“I’m so excited to play on the same stage as RAS again!” They hadn’t performed at the same venue since early last year. The contest had been stressful, but Ako had loved every minute of it. Oh, right Ako was supposed to ask something. “Do you have the contact info for the event organizer?”

“Yes, one moment.” Rokka took her phone back out, clicked a few times, then showed the screen to Ako. It had a name and phone number on it, which Ako texted directly to Lisa.

After sending it, Ako glanced back up at Rokka. She was looking at her phone, a frown again in place on her lips. Ako wondered what was bothering her, was it something to do with RAS? She never got to ask about Masking earlier too.

Ako opened her mouth to ask, but was once again interrupted by a loud voice.

“Yes!” Asuka exclaimed, startling Ako. Rokka flinched and gave a small ‘eep’ of surprise at the noise. They both turned back to Asuka and saw that she finally succeeded at knocking the figure off the platform.

“Great job!” Rokka recovered quickly and stepped closer to Asuka as she leaned down to retrieve her prize. She seemed to have snapped out of whatever funk she was in.

Ako joined them, stowing her questions for now.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, which was Lisa thanking her for the info. Roselia’s group chat soon blew up with discussion about a set list.

There was an excitement running through Ako as she read the discussion, a rush of energy. They had a little over two weeks to prepare for the live; she was going to make it great!

______________________________________________________

Today was the big day, the day of the summer festival. Ako had been practicing super hard for the last two weeks to get ready, refining her technique and making sure to play perfectly in time. The band had even squeezed in extra practices to get ready, though they were mostly with only part of the band.

They decided to wear their original stage outfits for today, since it was the band’s classic look. Ako made sure to try it on ahead of time and worked with Rinko to adjust it for her new height.

On the day of the event, Ako left the house with plenty of time to spare. Tomoe was planning to go as well with the rest of Afterglow, but Ako had too much energy to wait.

She carried her costume and drumsticks carefully as she took the train to the venue. It was being held on an outdoor stage at a park, with 6 different band performing over the course of the day. The weather was cooler today, though still moderately hot. Raise A Suilen would perform second, while Roselia was scheduled fifth.

Ako wanted to go early so she wouldn’t be late, so she didn’t have to wait around the house, but there was more to it than that. She also wanted to watch RAS perform; their music was always a lot of fun to listen to. The way they worked the crowd was inspirational.

The park was already bustling when Ako arrived, with many people milling around. Ako weaved through them to reach the backstage area, where she stored her costume and drumsticks in Roselia’s tent. Sayo’s costume was already back there.

Then, Ako headed back out into the crowd. If Sayo’s costume was here she must’ve been too, so she looked for a splash of light blue hair. As expected, she was able to find that distinct color in the crowd.

Surprisingly, there were two individuals there with it. Sayo and Hina were both near the back of the venue, standing together and talking. Ako weaved past a few people to reach them.

“Good morning, Udagawa-san.” Sayo greeted her as she approached. Hina waved as well. “You’re awfully early.”

“Hi!” Ako stopped in front of them. “I was so excited; I couldn’t just stay at home!”

“Me too!” Hina beamed, her smile practically stretching from ear to ear. “I can’t wait to hear Onee-chan play!”

Sayo flushed slightly. “Hina, please remember there are people around.” Indeed, a few of the audience members had turned to stare.

“Oh, sorry.” Hina clamped one hand over her mouth, giggling as she did.

The conversation shifted to the other bands playing today. Besides Roselia and RAS, there were four others. One was from Sayo’s school and often performed there. Ako hadn’t heard of the others, but she was still excited to hear them play.

Rinko arrived next, appearing in the group without a word. Afterglow came over to say hi when they got there, but they only stayed for a minute. They were determined to get a good spot near the stage.

Lisa and Yukina walked up ten minutes before the first group was set to perform. The band decided they would stay to watch through RAS, then they’d head backstage. They stood in the corner, where it would be easier to slip away.

The crowed had completely filled up, with at least a thousand people packed into the park. They cheered as the first band came on stage, waving multi-colored penlights in the air.

Ako cheered too, waving her arms to the music. This band was great! Their music almost seemed to fly by, as they rolled through one song after another. Their drummer was particularly good, hitting some impressive patterns.

Before Ako knew it, it was time for RAS. They came on stage to a flurry of cheers.

The audience had grown even more since the start of the concert. Chuchu called out to the audience to introduce them. She named each member as they played a solo, with Pareo introducing her last.

Ako had seen them do this many times, but it still impressed her to this day. She probably had stars in her eyes as she cheered at the start of their first song.

They opened with Hell or Hell, which was one of Ako’s favorites, before hyping up the crowd through Unstoppable and A Declaration of XXX.

Ako tried to ask Rokka how things were with the band at school last week, after they didn’t get to talk about it at the arcade, but Rokka insisted that everything was fine. Based on the strength of this performance, Ako could only believe that to be true.

Despite any trouble the band might’ve been having, their music came together perfectly. Ako mostly watched the drums, noting Masking’s excellent technique.

When RAS finished, it was time for Roselia to head backstage. Hina wished them luck as they walked away.

Immediately upon reaching the back, the band found themselves face to face with RAS. They had just come off the stage and must’ve been heading to their tent.

“Minato Yukina.” Chuchu was covered in sweat from having just performed in the heat, yet she still had the energy to point directly at Yukina. “There’s no way your stage outshines ours!”

Yukina’s expression was impassive as always. “We will see.” She replied simply, before brushing past the band.

“You were amazing!” Lisa called as the rest of the band followed her. Ako looked back to shoot them a thumbs up and a grin.

As Roselia reached their tent, they could hear the next band starting to play. They quickly changed into their outfits for the show and prepared their instruments. Ako only needed her drumsticks, since she would use the drum set on stage.

The tent was soon full of the sounds of the band, of Yukina warming up, Sayo tuning her guitar, and Lisa practicing one last song. Rinko would use the keyboard on stage as well, so she was taking the time to stretch her fingers.

Once they were ready, they circled up. Ako leaned in between Rinko and Lisa in the circle, with one arm around each of them.

“This is our first performance of the new year.” Yukina took the lead in the huddle. “Let’s show them our devotion.”

Ako nodded, prepared to do just that. She looked around at her band members, who each wore expressions of determination.

The band broke the circle and left the tent, heading to where they were supposed to wait. The fourth band had just started, so soon it would be their turn.

They had to wait a little, but their turn did come. After the previous band finished and left the stage, Roselia went up the steps to take their place.

The crowd cheered loudly, with purple penlights on full display. Ako waved broadly at the audience, before sitting down at the drums. She adjusted the seat quickly and checked that the drum set was in the right spots. On the other side of the stage, Rinko had finished doing something similar.

After moving one of the snares, Ako looked over at Yukina. The vocalist was waiting for that cue.

“We are Roselia.” Yukina introduced the band to the audience. “Our first song is Black Shout.” With that, Ako counted off and the band started to play.

They chose Black Shout as the opener since it was one of their most well known songs. Ako played it confidently, hitting her parts exactly right. She even used the new technique she’d been refining. This was great, she was playing perfectly.

There was a problem though, as Ako turned her ears towards her bandmates something felt off. The audience was still roaring, but something sounded wrong. Ako kept her smile pasted on her face as she glanced over towards Rinko. She wondered if Rinko could feel it too.

Rinko was still smiling as well, but it looked strained. She met Ako’s gaze for a moment, so Ako cued the next down beat with a larger motion.

For a moment, that made the feeling go away. But it didn’t stay gone.

The piano felt off. It wasn’t just the piano, the guitar, the bass, and the vocals too. It felt like the band was bursting out in every direction, pulling the music their way. Ako stayed in the center of that, keeping the beat. Their sound was completely different than before, something new and scary.

Sayo had turned back towards her, lips drawn in a tight line. Ako cued her as well, hoping that would help.

It didn’t.

The band felt unstable, like it was on the verge of tearing. Ako knew that wouldn’t happen, that every member of her band was capable of staying together no matter how strange they sounded. No matter how they clashed in this moment, they could still play Black Shout together.

They continued on to the next song. The crowd cheered even louder. They had especially enjoyed the guitar solo.

Ako wondered if the crowd couldn’t hear it, or perhaps it was in her imagination. No, as Lisa as well looked for a cue she normally would’ve hit without help, Ako knew the problem was real. The rest of the band could feel it too.

The second song ended and they continued on to the next. Some songs felt better than others, while some felt far worse. Ako fought to keep her smile up the entire live, which became even harder with the heat of summer.

The crowd was still cheering loudly when they finished their final song, still enthusiastically waving their penlights in the air.

Roselia bowed and thanked them, before leaving the stage. Ako wasn’t sure what to think about their performance, or how to feel. They walked back to their tent in silence.

Once inside, Ako stopped by the entrance. She couldn’t just hold in her words. “What happened out there?” She asked, looking between her bandmates.

Sayo and Lisa were both putting their instruments away. Rinko had her hands held together, while Yukina stood with her arms crossed.

“I-I’m not sure…” Rinko muttered.

“We were out of sync.” Sayo cut in, glaring up from her guitar case.

Yukina’s eyes narrowed. “We shouldn’t have been.” Her stare was heavy.

Lisa finished zipping her bass case, then turned towards the rest of the band. “We need to talk about it.” She said, eyes landing on Yukina. Even she was not smiling. “Let’s meet next Sunday, instead of band practice. We’ll figure this out.” That was probably the next time they would all be free again.

“Alright.” Yukina acquiesced without a fight. “I’m going to watch the last band.” With that she turned and exited the tent, leaving the other band members behind. Lisa sighed as she watched her go.

Ako stepped over to Rinko, who was now wringing her hands together. “We should do that too.” At least it could take their minds off of their performance.

Rinko nodded and followed Ako as she started to walk away. Sayo and Lisa remained in the tent.

They didn’t go back out to the audience, since they were still in costume, but they watched the last band from backstage. Yukina was nowhere to be found. Hina came past as they watched, likely looking for Sayo. The sixth band was excellent, as expected.

It didn’t succeed at distracting Ako from her thoughts. She could only remember how Black Shout had sounded, how it had felt as the band pulled in different directions.

Next week they would debrief it. She couldn’t wait.

_________________________________________________________

End Note: Chapters are going to be a little less frequent now, probably just once a week. I’ve been feeling a bit burnt out from this fic so I’m taking it a little slower. Thanks for continuing to read!

Next Chapter

[inu-jiru]

Tomoe, the Eastern Tigress - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen - Enter Genba!

“Gyaaaaah!” An Ohu male let out a dying scream as fangs tore through him like paper. What had once been a small patrol of dogs now lay in the snow, their bodies shredded and mangled. A large paw landed one of their heads. “Mmph,” the murderer of the unfortunate males grunted. “Too easy. None of these fools were Ohu’s best. They all must be hiding out in Gajou, the cowards.” The bloodthirsty dog was a massive harlequin Great Dane, much like Hougen, though his ears were undamaged and flopped at the middle. This was Genba, brother of the tyrant. With vibrant, yellow eyes, the male looked around, huffing impatiently. “Where the hell are those bastards…?” he grunted impatiently. “If they don’t report to me by the next hour, they’ll regret it. C’mon, you lot. Let’s keep cleaning up in the meantime, hehehehe.” “Won’t we recruit any of them, sir?” asked a soldier. Genba’s jowls peeled back as he flashed his fangs in a wicked smile. “Not a single one of Gin’s allies leaves this mountain alive,” he responded. With that, the march was on. An army of three hundred males began their climb up the mountain. Genba licked his chops; he hungered for the taste of Ohu blood. “Sergeant Ben!” cried Mel, his voice bouncing off the stone walls of the Ohu stronghold. As he entered the main chamber, the puppy saw Ben jolting awake. Instinctually, he looked around, though he could only see blackness. “What’s that?” Ben barked, slightly panicked. His nose quivered, catching the scent of Mel nearby. He turned towards the approaching puppy. “Mel? Is that you? What’s the matter?” “I think there’s enemies trying to enter Ohu territory,” explained Mel. “They told me they wanted to join Ohu, but something didn’t seem right about them. I sent them in the opposite direction, but…” The puppy shuddered. “I think this might have to do with Hougen.” “Damn…” muttered Ben, his brow furrowing. He stood up. “We need to get everyone back here. With luck, we can hold back an enemy attack on Gajou.” “But will we be enough, sir?” asked Mel cautiously. “We don’t know how many dogs are gonna be coming.” “That may be, but the least we can do is try and keep a hold on Gajou for as long as we can. We’ve just reclaimed Gajou; I’m not about to lose it “Sergeant…” the Golden Retriever gasped admirably. Ben’s words filled Mel with inspiration; his fears began melting away as the pup’s chest swelled with confidence. “How can I help, sir?” “Lead me outside,” Ben instructed. He held up a foreleg. “I’ll howl for the others.” “Sir!” replied Mel, before padding to Ben’s side and grabbing his foreleg gently in his maw. Together, both males slowly made their way to the entrance of Gajou. The base was mostly empty of dogs; those who weren’t patrolling or hunting were resting and enjoying meals. Noticing the ex-General, the small gathering of soldiers sat up, their ears perking in attention. “Sergeant?” called a male. “What’s going on?” “Prepare yourselves,” responded the old Dane. “We may be in for a fight.” “Sir!” the dogs replied in union. They got up, taking their places in front of Gajou and staring out into the woods. Mel, meanwhile, guided Ben up the rocky structure, up to the very top. When the Great Dane felt that the time was right, he raised his head and unleashed a deep, booming howl. At the edge of the forest, gazing out at the stronghold, the leader of Genba’s seven scouts began to smirk. “You guys go and get Lord Genba,” he ordered. “I’ll keep watch, heh.” Nodding, the other six males were off, leaving their scarred leader as he set his sights on Mel. He bared his fangs. As soon as Genba gave the word, he was making a beeline for that lying, little twerp. The minutes passed, and soon the Ohu base was beginning to fill with the remains of the army and its Mutsu allies. The Veterans gathered at the base of Gajou. “What’s going on, Ben?” Jiyū called out. “Intruders,” the Dane replied roughly. He lifted his paw again and Mel quickly helped him down from atop Gajou. “I don’t know how many for certain, but my gut tells me we’ll be in for quite a fight.” “Hougen’s come here already…?” murmured a concerned Wilson. “Moss and Musashi still haven’t returned. Even with the dogs from Mutsu, our numbers might not be enough…” “Who gives a damn about numbers?” snapped Kurotora. “My boys’ll cut half of the enemy’s troops down with a single move. We won’t be fighting long.” “Don’t be so cocky, Kurotora,” Akame warned. “Even Battouga wielders can be overwhelmed by great numbers.” “What are you doubting them for?” the hot-blooded Kai shot an angry look at the ganin. “You really think they’ll lose to a--” “We’re wasting time arguing like this,” Cross interrupted. Kurotora growled in response, but otherwise said nothing. The Saluki turned to her mate. “Tell us what to do, Ben.” “Kisaragi,” said Ben, taking a whiff of the air and glancing in the direction of where he smelled the Husky. “If it’s alright, I’d like for the others to form small platoons with the dogs you brought. When the intruders come, you’ll all lead your platoons into battle as you see fit. Remember, no one is to throw their lives away needlessly. If we have to fall back...then so be it.” “Yes!” most of the Veterans responded. Kurotora, however, was still fuming. He refused to believe that Ohu could be taken down again, especially not by a bunch of flea-bitten mutts. His and Chutora’s sons knew the way of a Kai dog: they fought to the death. Kurotora’s brother, Akatora, was proof of that mindset. As the Veterans split, beginning to seek out dogs for their platoons, Kurotora immediately sought out the young Kais. “Dad,” Harutora began. “There you are. We came as fast as we could.” “Good,” the black Kai replied. “Because all that training I’ve put you boys through is being put to the test today. Get ready.” “We are, Uncle,” assured Shouji. “But don’t tell us you’ll be fighting too…?” “Of course I am.” Kurotora looked offended at the suggestion that he would ever miss out on a battle. “Why the hell wouldn’t I?” Neither Shouji, nor the other young Kais responded, though Chutora’s boys all shared concerned glances. Kurotora grunted impatiently. “Come on, then. You boys’ll be under my platoon. We’ll show this pack of mutts what Ohu soldiers are made of.” The next few minutes were tense and silent. Each platoon stood, facing a part of the forest. They were each spread apart from each other, making it impossible for the enemy to approach unnoticed. As the minutes passed, a rumbling filled the air, the threatening bays of enemy dogs following shortly after. Jiyū stood before the dogs under command, her heart pounding in her chest. If even a single one of Genba’s dogs managed to cut her down… No, the panda Shepherd thought, shaking her head. She wouldn’t die, not before seeing her family again. For the sake of surviving this war, she’d take down any dog who dared to approach her. A cold, white flake landed on her nose. Staring up towards the sky, Jiyū noticed that it had started snowing. Within minutes, the winds began picking up. A blizzard had come to the Pass, and the forest was soon partially obstructed by the increasing snowfall. The platoon leaders peered through the snow as best they could. There was faint movement coming from the edge of the woods. Genba’s soldiers marched onto the stone battleground, led by the Great Dane. “They’re here…!” Kisaragi gasped, his eyes widening as the large number of enemy dogs. The rest of the Ohu Army braced themselves. At Ben’s signal, they’d attack. Across from them, Genba was taking notice of what stood before him. “How cute,” he purred. “Even with their smaller numbers, they still think they can win. This’ll be easy.” With that, he raised his head and let out a howl for his lackeys to attack. Immediately, Genba’s army rushed forward. “Ohu!” Ben’s voice boomed in retaliation. “Defend!” HRAAAAAAAH! The distance was closed between the two armies. The unstoppable force was met with an immovable wall of Ohu soldiers. The members of each platoon moved forwards, assisting their leaders in keeping as many dogs out as they could. Fangs tore necks and claws gored bellies. Genba’s troops came in waves; a number of dogs would attempt to break through Ohu’s numbers, only to be launched back the way they came. The strength of Ohu had not been lost. Among Genba’s army, the Husky male that had led the search for Gajou was searching the battlefield for Mel. He hung behind the rest of the fighters, scanning each platoon for the little, golden pup. As he approached the area where Akame’s platoon was fighting, he could make out Mel’s little body as the youngster dove to the side, lashing out with his hind paw and giving an enemy a kick in the throat. It was an impressive feat for someone his age, but his luck would soon run out. The vengeful male pushed past his comrades, dashing for Mel. “You’re mine!” he roared. Mel only had seconds to turn and face him before fangs clamped down on his neck. Mel could only let out a sharp, croaking sound as his airway was cut off. Sneering, the Husky picked Mel up and bashed him into the ground. “This is what you get for lying to me,” he seethed. “You should’ve run away while you had the chance, brat, gyahaha!” By now, Mel was having trouble staying conscious. Desperately, he swung his forepaws, trying to pry the male’s jaws apart. The Husky snickered. “What’s the matter? Does it hurt? Heheh...good.” No…! Mel thought. His eyes burned with tears. If he died here, everything he’d done to become an Ohu soldier would’ve been for nothing. He might as well have died by the fangs of his old boss, Blue. Had what Weed told him all those weeks ago been true? Was his spirit really weak? “Not…” Mel choked quietly. A single tear streamed down his cheek. “...weak…” “Eh?” The Husky raised a brow. “What’s that, pipsqueak? Speak up. I wanna hear you beg.” “Not…weak...!” said Mel again, this time, his brow furrowing as he attempted to gather all of his strength. He tucked in his hind legs and shot out a paw. The puppy heard a bloodcurdling scream; the Husky’s grip on his neck loosened. Quickly, Mel slid out from beneath the male and got to his paws. Facing the male, Mel could now see what damage he’d done: he’d stabbed into the Husky’s eye with his claws, permanently rupturing it. The young retriever’s heart raced. He’d battled before, but this was the first time he’d injured an enemy like this. The fight wasn’t over yet, however, and if the Husky wasn’t filled with homicidal rage before, he definitely was now. “You…” he seethed, glaring at Mel with his remaining eye. He pounced, saliva dripping from his parting jaws. “You worthless, little--!” Mel darted beneath the Husky, catching him by the throat and cutting him off mid-insult. With a grunt, Mel flung the male down onto his back, forcing a yelp from his maw. Without wasting a second, the puppy bit down on the Husky’s exposed neck. He felt the enemy male’s muscles tense. “You wouldn’t…” the Husky hissed, though his voice trembled from fear. Mel’s brow furrowed. Without hesitation, he jerked his head back, the wet sound of ripping flesh following behind. The Husky gurgled, blood filling his throat and mouth. It wasn’t long before everything went black. Mel lifted his head, gasping for breath. At that very moment, Mel had become a new dog. He left the Husky’s body there, joining his rest of his packmates in combat. By now, Genba was losing his patience. The Ohu soldiers weren’t the pushovers he assumed they’d be, and the waves of attacks were being repelled with little difficulty. With a growl, the Great Dane lifted his head, calling out over the battle: “That’s it! All of you, attack at once! Crush their barrier!” Genba’s army obeyed, now charging the Ohu Army as one, large wave of death. The Ohu Platoons stuck together, desperately trying to keep the enemy out. Unfortunately, Genba’s minions had no desire to fight fair. Two, three, and sometimes four dogs would tackle an Ohu soldier, not even giving them the chance to try and fight back. “Ben!” Cross cried as three enemy soldiers aimed for her mate. Ben, already occupied with one enemy, swiveled his ears in order to pick up the sounds of the approaching males. With a grunt, he swung the male he was clutching onto, smacking away one of the three soldiers. Cross assisted, delivering a headbutt to a second male. The final soldier, however, skirted around the old Saluki and caught her by the flank, sinking in his fangs. “Gyaaaah!” “Cross!” Ben cried in alarm. The Dane was about to turn and assist his beloved, but another pair of soldiers pounced on him, one tearing at the side of his neck and the other gripping a paw. With his lack of sight and the overwhelming scents and sounds surrounding him, Ben was now at a major disadvantage. Blindly, the male chomped at the air and swung his head like a battering ram. Cross, meanwhile, reached back and grasped her attacker by the back of the neck. Then, she flung him against one of his comrade’s holding Ben. Both males yelped in pain before lying on the snow, dazed and injured. With only one male left to fight, Ben effortlessly managed to throw him off with a swing of his head. The final male vanished into the blizzard; some other Ohu soldier could deal with him. “Are you alright, Cross?” asked Ben, panting from exertion. Even with all of his strength, he was still incredibly old, especially for a Great Dane. Cross leaned against him, licking his cheek. “I’m alright,” the bitch replied. “Just a couple of scratches. But I don’t think we can keep this up, Ben.” The Saluki paused, taking a quick glance around. The individual platoons had fallen, with Ohu’s soldiers now gathered together in order to protect their allies. Most of Kisaragi’s soldiers had fallen, as did much of Ohu’s remaining troops. “We need to fall back, Ben!” “Dammit…” Ben cursed, his ears falling slightly. He shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet the thought of having to flee their base once again left a particularly sour taste in his mouth. Still...what sort of man would he be if he allowed the rest of his troops to be killed? With a sigh, Ben raised his head. “Ohu soldiers! Fall back!” At Ben’s command, most of the Ohu survivors began to flee, rushing in the direction of Gajou. Jiyū gritted her teeth, the burning pain of defeat hurting more than her physical wounds. The only dogs to remain where they were were Kurotora and the young Kais. Harutora and Nobutora were prepared to run, but their father barked at them sharply. “Where are you two going!?” “Father…?” asked Nobutora timidly. He glanced back at the fleeing Ohu Army. “Mr. Ben gave the order to leave; shouldn’t we--?” “Hell no!” Kurotora snapped. He and his nephews continued taking on approaching soldiers, trying to keep them at bay. “A Kai Ken never runs from a fight. My brothers never did, and I sure as Hell don’t plan to!” “Kurotora!” a new voice called. Glancing over his shoulder, Akame returned to the battlefield. “Didn’t you hear Ben!? Fall back!” “Like Hell I will.” “Uncle, perhaps you should go with Mr. Akame,” Shouji suggested. Kurotora stared at his nephew in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind, Shouji?” barked the old Kai. “I have plenty of fight still in me.” “You’re the one who raised us,” Buru said, pausing to dispatch an enemy. “If you died here, we’d never forgive ourselves.” “Fool!” Kurotora was seething now. “I’m not gonna--” “Let’s go, Kurotora!” Akame interrupted, grabbing the Kai’s scruff in his jaws. “The rest of you boys fall back; that’s an order.” “Let go!” screamed Kurotora, struggling in Akame’s grip. His vision had gone red from anger. “Let go of me!” Nobutora and Harutora shared a glance, before aiding the ganin in dragging their father off. Despite his protests, Kurotora was taken towards the cliff behind Gajou. Most of the Ohu soldiers had leapt down into the river already; it was time for them to follow. “AKAME!” roared Kurotora as he felt himself being pulled down into the abyss. At Ohu’s base, Chutora’s four sons remained, facing the enemy pack and surrounded by the bodies of dogs they’d once called comrades. They fought against Genba’s army as best they could, hoping to bring down as many as they could before their inevitable deaths. In their minds, they all had the same thought: Uncles...Father...this is our final moment. May the rest of our comrades use our sacrifice to their advantage. “Grah!” Buru howled as multiple sets of fangs tore at his flesh. He stumbled, soon being overtaken by Genba’s males. “Buru!” cried Dodo, before he, too, was tackled. His cries rang out as a swarm of enemies wasted no time in ripping him apart. “Brothers!” Shigure sobbed. Tears burned in his eyes; how could his brothers have been slaughtered in a matter of seconds!? The Kai mix felt someone grabbing his scruff, and his heart fluttered. Quickly, he began to struggle with a growl. “Easy, kid!” Smith’s voice caught his ears. “It’s me!” “Uncle Smith!?” asked Shigure in disbelief. The Spaniel didn’t respond as he began pulling the younger male away. “Eh? Wait! I can’t leave, Uncle! Me and Shouji...we can do this!” “Don’t be stupid!” Smith scolded. “We’ll be back for Gajou soon, but right now, you and Shouji’ll--!” “Take this!” Shouji roared from afar. Smith and Shigure looked to see the male launching himself into the sky, over Genba’s army. His body cut through the air like a serpent, the Ran Daryushin-Battōga, and was aiming towards the Great Dane. Genba, who’d been watching the entire battle from the safety of the treeline, looked up at the approaching Kai. He smirked. SWOOSH! A single swing of Genba’s paw picked up a curtain of snow, blocking Shouji’s sight. “Uh!?” Shouji cried out in alarm. He couldn’t see Genba at all! Perhaps it wasn’t too late to stop his Battouga…? As the thought came to Shouji’s mind, the snow fell back to the ground. Shouji could now see Genba’s parted fangs ready to chomp down on his head. “SHOUJI!” Shigure screamed. “GAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Shouji’s head exploded into a shower of blood and brain matter. Genba dragged his body to the ground, bashing it against the snow. The scream ended as suddenly as it began. Shouji was dead. “Shouji!” Shigure was wailing, hot tears now running freely down his face. Smith, who’d watched in absolute dread, felt his legs begin to weaken. How could this be happening? Why now? Why after they’d just gotten Gajou back from Kaibutsu!? Genba’s dogs now advanced towards the two males, the final obstacles needing to be killed. Smith, though he desperately longed to cry for the fallen Kais, began to drag the screaming and crying Shigure away to the cliff. As Akame had done, Smith had no choice but to force the young Kai down into the river. Shigure’s wails were the last thing Genba’s army heard before the battlefield had gone silent. Genba, still holding onto the lifeless Shouji, slowly began to pad to the cliffs, his remaining soldiers following behind him. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and death, not that Genba seemed to care. His paws kicked and crushed any carcass that lied in his path, no matter if they were friend or foe. The soldiers, on the other hand, had a bit more respect. Even if Ohu had been the enemy, it was foolish to deny that they’d fought with honor and courage. “Hmph,” Genba finally grunted, stopping as he peered over the cliff. “Those Ohu bastards...so obsessed with honor that they’d rather take themselves out rather than feel my fangs. How boring. Still...it does make things easier for me, heh.” The Dane turned back to his comrades. “Oi. Start clearing away these bodies. This place needs to be spotless for when my brother arrives.” “Shall we bury them all?” asked a grunt. “Pheh,” Genba scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. Why waste time on burials when…” Genba paused, taking up Shouji by the back of his neck. He held him over the cliffs, the soldiers looking on, wide-eyed. “...we can toss ‘em out like the trash they are?” With hesitation, Genba threw the Kai dog down into the rapids. The soldiers flinched at the faint splash. What a monster Genba was! Silently, they slipped away, following their leader’s orders. Meanwhile, the sadistic Great Dane threw back his head, cackling madly. “I did it, Hougen!” cried Genba triumphantly. “Ohu is DEAD!” The howl of victory echoed through the mountain, down after the retreating Ohu soldiers. Kurotora, who’d still been struggling violently against Akame and his sons, stopped to listen. “Son of a bitch…!” he growled. “What have you three done!? Chutora’s boys...my boys…!” “They should’ve retreated behind us,” replied Akame reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Kurotora. We’ll all return to fight another--” “NO!” Kurotora’s single eye glistened. Though the river’s water was freezing cold, the fire in the old Kai’s blood wasn’t dampened. “There won’t be another fight, not for my boys! Nobutora! Harutora! You both should know that more than anyone, and yet…!” “Father, you have to understand,” argued Harutora. “Not even you could’ve taken on that many dogs! Even our cousins knew that!” “Why do you think I’m so angry then!?” A tear now rolled down Kurotora’s cheek. “Shouji, Buru, Dodo, Shigure…! They’ll fight to the death! You hear that bastard!? He’s won! He’s...he’s killed…!” Akame’s blood ran cold as the realization settled in. Nobutora and Harutora, despite their firm grips on their father, felt themselves begin to tear up as well. A hopeless Kurotora let out a sudden, anguished wail, one that rang out over the fast-paced winds.

[hopeless-ultimates]

Tokki

“There’s no need to be shy. It’s just you and me, okay?”

Through the grates of black fabric, Gomi stared into the pink abyss that was the lemonade, the eyes of her mask staring back at her. Her gloved hands shaking as she hesitated to hold onto the cup before her. The host smiled sadly, knowing very well that beyond her eye mask she was glancing around, making sure that they weren’t being surrounded or spied on by a particular white-haired model.

“Yes, ma’am..” Gomi uttered, the bottom mask coming down onto her chin with a meek tug. Seeing her face was.. saddening. Though she tried to keep herself as clean as humanly possible, it still showed to be darker than the rest of her skin, layers upon layers of untreated dirt and dust covering her cheeks. At the same time, the only part that proved to be different is the area around her lips, from the many times she’s scrubbed it clean after her meals — the only time any of her masks were allowed to be taken off—.

The cool ceramic was pressed to her lips, the drink sliding down her throat almost flawlessly. It was sweet.. far too sweet to be store brand. But for some reason, it put her at ease. The teeth-rottingly sweet taste soothed her nerves and, for a moment, she didn’t think. Just allowed herself to be consumed by the warmth of the environment around them. The clouds that hid the sun from the earth, the smell of rainfall from the night prior, the freshly planted jasmines flumping over the veranda, budding with life as they prepare for the new season. The girl that invited her out for the day, humming the day away with another one of her clients sleeping in her lap. The gentle smile on her face evident as her hand rubbed against the bunny’s back. During their little outings, the Hagane would try and make it her mission to make Gomi feel good for once. There was only so much anyone could take from someone like her sister, whether or not they’re family, employees, friends or just strangers. Her fellow house staff turn a blind eye to whatever mistreatment Erika does to her and the Master Haganes are rarely home, if ever — leaving it to the younger of the two children to try and make things tolerable at the home—.

“Would you like to pet her, Tomo-chan?”

Her question broke tore the maid from her thoughts. Her head popping up to look her in the eye, or the best she could anyway. The smile she was given was as kind as ever, her eyes closed as she tilted her head in unfiltered curiosity. The rabbit itself must have woken up, the tips of her ears peeking from the other side of the table.

It looked oh so soft. The thought of running her hands through the little creature's fur made her heart leap for joy. Many a time she's seen the girl come in and out of her little office, animals in hand and a smile on her face. She was told to never interfere; never associate with any of those "filthy, rabid animals". Even if they were groomed and feed regularly or trained to be obedient members of society, nothing about them merited a touch from a respectable human being even if Gomi was never treated like one.

It's my only chance, the maid thought, her hands just itching to be able to scratch under the rabbit's chin. Or do they not like that? Ugh, she didn't know! But she wanted to so badly!

Swallowing her worries, she nodded her head.

"Yes please...!" Oh no I sounded so pained and desperate, Miss Magnolia please don't take back the offer! I'm so very sorry!

The chair scrapped against the concrete beneath and Magnolia huffed herself onto her feet, the little fluffball resting against her chest. If she didn't know any better, Gomi would have thought that Maggie was it's owner. It didn't seem to show any sign of discomfort, it's nose sniffing and bumping at her chin in hopes of earning her affection. To soothe its need, she would give but a small kiss to their head and a pat on the back. She ushered the maid to hold out her hands and slowly set the rabbit into her arms — guiding her hand to caress its hind legs. For a moment, it squirmed, making both itself and the maid nervous. A sense of dread building up as the fear that she may hop out of her arms or just straight slip from her grasp started to take over ever thought.

“Don’t be scared.. If you’re unsure and shaken, it’ll be the same. Just.. Hold her..” Magnolia’s words were slow but assuring, her hands outstretched just in case. Her teal eyes watching both of their moments, her heart beating steadily in case she needed to jump to action and to rescue the two from whatever panic that would ensue.

“Her name is Tokki, it’s ‘bunny’ in Korean.” She smiled, finding the obscurity of the name. It was like naming a dog ‘Hound’ or a cat ‘Kat’. If she could recall correctly, it was the name of the client’s favorite character from their favorite tv show. Or, the nickname they went by. Whatever it by be, the name did have a fairly nice ring to it. And it looked as if the little one was happy with their name. So what could she complain about?

Finally, Tokki seemed to find the slightest bit of comfort in the maid’s arms, her head resting against the side of her arm. Seeing it made Maggie smile.

“You can pet her now, just make sure to hold her feet.”

The ravenette shifted her hold to one hand instead of two and she placed her hand against the rabbit’s back, flinching at the contact along with it. Her hand glided back and forth, petting in possibly the most uncomfortable way. No need to fear! For her initial awkwardness would slowly ease and Gomi would become comfortable with touching the pet. From beyond the prison of her gloves, she could only guess that the rabbit was unbelievably soft. The way her hands sunk into its fur only reminded her of what it would be like to bury her hands into a cloud: soft but, in a way, still held its own value or weight. Miss Magnolia takes great care of you, doesn’t she? She looks at you with such love and care.. Does she feed you by hand? And wash you you thoroughly with her fingers rather than a big brush? Her expression softened. Do you not have to worry about not eating everyday? Or if a simple nick on the finger could turn into a painful infection? What is it like to live in luxury of the bare minimum? No.. You don’t get the bare minimum. You get so much more.. things that not even my wildest dreams could be able to grasp. 

Gomi could laugh at herself at that moment. She was actually jealous of the rabbit. Of all things she could be jealous of, the other housestaff, other teens her age who ran around the world with little care, hell perhaps little children in a mid class family! But no, she had grown envious of a small rabbit, white in color but stained with brown, big black eyes and a small twitchy nose. Who not a word but acted with more personality than she could ever see herself doing. She felt pathetic.

“Oh.. Tomo-chan I have a meet to go to.” Magnolia called, her phone buzzing in her hand. Instead of reaching for the rabbit like Gomi expected, she started to walk back towards the manor. 

“Ha-Hagane-sama..!” Gomi stumbled to her feet, her hold Tokki tightening. “Do you not want to take her back to the room?”

Maggie shook her head, holding her hands up as if to back away from a offer she couldn’t take.

“You two seemed to be getting along and I did not want to disturb you both!”

“But-!” It was too late, Magnolia had retreated too far, her figure disappearing in the gardens as she waved, a single hand waving farewell to the maid and her new furry companion. The last of what could be heard from her being, “I won’t be long! Please..! Enjoy the rest of the snacks..!”

Sigh..

She couldn’t possibly keep the rabbit for long, she had to go back to Miss Erika and her work. There was no way her master would allow the sweet thing to come anywhere close to her, hell she might even force her to throw Tokki out under the threat of seriously harming it. And she couldn’t have that… Not by a long shot..

“Miss Magnolia said she wouldn’t be long..” She repeated, her gaze drifting to the rabbit in her arms and then to the homemade treats the animal caretaker spent so much time preparing for them. The lemonade could give her cavities from a single sip but she had yet to try any of the many cookies and other sweets she made. And.. It would be rude to just ignore her efforts.. wouldn’t it..? Moments of thinking brought the maid back down into her seat, the rabbit resting in her lap as it did Maggie’s minutes ago. She gave in to temptation, her hands pulling the plate towards her side of the table.

“Let’s hope it’s not too long..”