#same if you've been taught how to identify some common ones

[parlerenfleurs]

So funny how, as long as you cook it, it's way less risky to eat the meat of an animal you don't know than any part of any plant you either don't know, think you sort of know, or confidently think you know when there is another one that really looks like it, but the thing is you've never looked at them that closely and rely on vibes but that's a mistake you can usually only make once, so now you're dead.

[cafeinthemoon]

That Wasn’t a Genjutsu - Chapter I

Title: That Wasn’t a Genjutsu

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x reader

Rating: teen | up

Word count: 1185

Chapter (s): 1/10

Warnings: none

Symbols: ✔ | ➕ | 🔺 | ▶

Read The Nidaime's Assistant series on ao3

Summary: You've been working as Tobirama's assistant for a long time now. As you improved, he trusted you to accomplish more complex tasks, and despite the possibility of never seeing you become a shinobi, he started to teach you basic self-defense techniques. However, the more you found out about your body and your limits, more you wanted to know. And it gave room to strange and inevitable things to happen.

Also guess I’m gonna use the same pic of him in the next chapters bc I’m too lazy to search for different images okay please don’t take my laziness into account

Several months passed since you’ve started to work as the Second Hokage’s assistant. During this time, your improvement was notable for anyone who met you.

You already had your qualities, which granted you this position, but then you’ve learned more than you thought to be possible for someone in your professional area, since your superior became something close to a master for you: with Tobirama Senju, you’ve learned the most practical methods of organization as well as to think as a strategist, so that he trusted you to accomplish tasks of the most varied levels of complexity.

And though you were not a shinobi, he taught you some techniques for personal defense, including the use of kunais and shurikens. He stated that not being a ninja wasn’t an excuse for one to not know how to identify dangerous situations in order to protect themselves. In this case, you discovered some interesting traits of your body that otherwise would remain a secret even to yourself: though your physical strength weren’t prominent, your movements were fast, for which you were able to deflect and avoid attacks with relative efficiency, as well as disarm your opponents; the things you became capable of doing weren’t enough to face a true shinobi, of course, but you could easily deal with common people if they tried to cause you problems.

It was true that you’ve never wasted your time with what you couldn’t accomplish, but you were interested in learning more about your limits, and many times you talked about this with the Hokage. For example, there was a time when you asked him if wasn’t really possible for you to become a ninja.

- Though I haven’t been training since my childhood, I’m still young, Tobirama-sama – you argued – There must be enough time for me to develop my chakra pathway system. I just have to keep working as hard as I do today.

Tobirama didn’t dismiss your statement, nor he tried to dissuade you from it. Instead, he explained that things were not as easy as you imagined.

- Y/n, you’ve already started to develop your pathway – he explained – You must have noticed an improvement in your physical strength, which now matches your speed. However, it takes years of training for one to achieve their full capacity, and you have been working for a few months only. Besides, unlike a shinobi student, you don’t spend entire days on your training. But you’d need to do this to compensate the lack of preparation in your childhood.

You sighed.

- So, the answer is no.

- I did not say that – he smiled – I know you’ve been working hard since I started to teach you. I’m just saying that you will need twice the time of a regular student to accomplish things such as being able to use ninjutsu. And I cannot give you hope telling you how much you will be able to do, no matter how hard you work, for it doesn’t depend on my will. This is the kind of question that you must wait for time to answer.

It did not disappoint you to know that you might never become a shinobi. Instead, it motivated you to do your best in everything you were taught. Your best was enough for you, as well as for him.

Since you communicated freely with each other, conversations like this were a common part of your days, and even more when you started your training. You’ve come to know each other in deeper levels, as you were part of the same family. Because of this, you never hesitated to ask him for help and advice when you needed, and always listened when he had something to say. However, with the growing closeness between you two came some matters about which you’ve never thought before, and for you didn’t know how to deal with them, you decided to keep them for yourself.

One day, during your training, you attempted a strike using a kunai. You were now confident about your speed and were developing a new technique based on it; you were trying to find a way to not be disarmed with a surprise attack, which would lead to problems during a real fight, and Tobirama was teaching you how to anticipate possible tactics an opponent could make in such case. He decided to make things a bit difficult for you this time, as if learning how to face him would turn your fights with any other person something that you could easily handle.

You were concentrated on each movement, in everything you were seeing, and started to gain confidence in the success of your performance, but somehow he managed to find a gap in your defense: when you came close, he found a way to hold your wrist with one hand and immobilize you with the other. You didn’t even understand what he did: in one second you were attacking; in the next one, you had him holding your wrist above your head, and with one simple movement of his fingers he made you drop the kunai; then he trapped you with his other hand on your ribs. Everything happened so fast that you thought he did both things at the same time.

Tobirama didn’t hurt you. However, for a moment you found yourself unable to move, and your breath escaped from your lungs. He kept you close to him, his arm wrapped around you, the heat of his hand sensed on your skin even through your clothes, the vision of his fingers closed around your wrist as if doing it was no challenge for him – and it wasn’t.

Maybe he sensed the discomfort in you, for he immediately released you and said you were finished for that day.

You came to your home and took care of your regular tasks.

You were tired, but you took a long time to get to your bed and to sleep. You couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. And you soon realized there was a reason behind it. You realized that you never really knew the Hokage’s strength and experience until that day; that was the first time you felt them in yourself. And, still, you knew he was restraining them, as if he was playing with a child. It was like he wanted you to understand that, despite knowing he would never hurt you on purpose, you must not forget who you were fighting against.

Since that day, you started to pay more attention to your training and to your performance. You became able to identify moments like that, when the sensations you had at that time would come out: the surprise, the fast heartbeats, the warmth on your skin that grew deeper every time you got close to him. You didn’t notice at first – or, let’s just say, you didn’t want to admit it – but you started to seek for those moments.

It was strange, but inevitable. You would never say it out loud, but deep inside you knew that you started to see them as the most interesting part of your days.

Chapter 2

[forgedbyduty]

Artoirel noted Aymeric's unfamiliar weakness against the cold but thought nothing of it, simply took it as a sign to stay closer, to offer warmth where he could. He turned his head slightly into the kiss Aymeric offered, his lips just shy of the corners of his own. He caught a quick scent of something vaguely familiar on the other's breath, then. A familiarity that made his brows furrow slightly because he had never associated this scent with Aymeric before.

He tried to place it, but failed, and wrote it off as something caused by the unfamiliar brand of tea Aymeric carried around in his flask. One he tugged away for good earlier, having come to the conclusion that it was not to his liking, after all, even though the knight that prepared it no doubt meant well.

The continued shivering of Aymeric had turned Artoirel's mild concern into fulfledged worry at one point during their walk and when the other man put words to his discomfort now Artoirel finally took a closer look at him.

He took in Aymeric's shivering form, his overall sudden sickly appearance and then he noticed his dilated pupils... All of it just seemed so eerily familiar.

Then, Artoirel paled as he belatedly identified the smell on Aymeric's breath from earlier. His mind supplying him with the necessary context. He knew these symptoms and he knew them well.

There were some lessons an heir of one of the four high houses was taught early, and others they were taught early and kept being reminded of frequently, if only so the lesson wasn't forgotten with how seldom the knowledge was actually needed. The knowledge that was applicable right now came from one of the latter.

Artoirel's father had adviced him on many things; warned him of many more and one of those warnings, while downright terrifying for a young boy as he had been when he first heard it, concerned the various common poisons people could sneak into an unsuspecting person's drink.

The Count had one day brought him into a room filled with all kinds of different flowers. Some he had never seen before and as he came to learn: poisonous, all of them.

Edmont had then, over the course of a few weeks and with care as to not damage either of their healths made him carefully memorize all of these smells, while alsl teachong him the names and symptoms of each if these poisonous plants in hopes of protecting him from something like this happening to him.

Without a word he let go of Aymeric's hand to frantically search for the flask the other had stowed away. When he found it he was almost relieved to find it still more than half full, but there was no time for dropping one's guard just yet.

Artoirel unscrewed the flask, and carefully smelled it. He was hit with an almost flowery aroma and then, underneath the sweet scent of the tea, there it was. An icy certainty took a hold of him as his heartbeat picked up in his chest. "Hemlock." he said on a shaky exhale.

"Aymeric, I think you've been poisoned."

Saying it out loud added a new layer of realization to it, one that was swiftly accompanied by panic. This couldn't be happening. Not right now. Not to Aymeric. No no no no.

His thoughts began spiraling. His mind trying to hold together the last of his wits as he fought the panic down and grasped for the tidbits of information floating around in the storm his thoughts had become. But his father had drilled these things into him for a reason and eventually he remembered what needed to be done.

He carelessly shoved the flask into the pocket of his own coat before he looked Aymeric in the eyes. He took his hands again.

"Listen to me." He channeled the same authority for his tone which he used when addressing his men before battle. The strategist part of him devising a plan, because if he didn't, he'd likely succumb to fear.

"Here is what we're going to do: I'm going to carry you back and meanwhile I need you to breathe as evenly as possible. Try and keep your heartbeat as slow as you can." He more than regretted his earlier statement, it had not been the most delicate of ways to put Aymeric's current situation. His tone of voice slightly softened for his next statement. "Can you do that for me?"

A small voice in his mind told him that they were too far from the city; too far from anywhere with access to the necessary means to help Aymeric. But Artoirel would not let this derail his determination. There was still time. Something could still be done.

ANONYMOUS ASKED: They had been watching. They had watched them walking lots of times. They had seen them together in the city and together out on walks. Patterns had been learned and now they chose to strike quietly. The tea in the flask that aymeric carried had been poisoned with hemlock. It didn’t matter who drank it. Aymeric and artoirel were good targets. goodbye commander. enjoy the snow storm.

MENTION: @forgedbyduty​

Their little escapes were wonderful - boots happily pacing within the tundra so conversation could flow far more freely, the company of one another alone a solace in which Aymeric could never hope to describe. Certainly, company kept within the city was one thing (and, too, endlessly adored-) but there was simply something so wonderful about being in the wilderness with only Artoirel. They’d done well to choose their day for the weather appeared to keep wonderfully for a while. 

The tea had been prepared for them by a Knight of whom had noticed the commander running late - a kind gesture in which had been met with a bright smile and many thanks before darting off. In fact, he had near forgotten all about it when out wandering until he found himself feeling somewhat cold and thus took a few sips. With his warmth returned, Aymeric carried on in conversation, catching up with Artoirel to gently grasp his hand, to smile and continually enjoy their outing. 

Pausing to overlook the Dusk Vigil for a moment, Aymeric found himself shivering more than he ought to have been. He was wrapped up more than warm enough, his coat lined with soft fur - and yet there he stood, still gripping Artoirel’s hand, positively trembling. With a shake of his head and a small smile to himself did he stand closer to his company, a kiss pressed to his cheek as they chose to continue onward, only half-attention given to the distant brewing of clouds. 

Aymeric’s trembling continued, a light joke made about not wrapping up warm enough as another sip of tea was taken though brows furrowed, the taste somewhat off. One more sip to confirm and another joke was made regarding whoever had made the tea and it being nothing short of awful. Thus, it was permanently tucked inside his bag, out of mind.

It only became a mild concern within the commander’s mind when he simply couldn’t stop his shaking; 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me-” He murmured; “…I don’t feel cold.” No - in fact he felt perfectly toasty within the warmth of his coat, if not somewhat achy. He’d not done anything to warrant such feelings throughout his muscles, their walk had taken them far but not obscenely- and the day before he’d only sat at his desk and caught up on paperwork so the morrow would be free. No overactivity.