#silentvoices

[silentvoicescryingout]

dreamscape

For batsycats, by silentvoicescryingout

  “You’re so beautiful,” his voice coos huskily, mere breaths from her ear. “ My Sakura .”

She moans, stretching her limbs like a cat, legs splaying wide as his fingers brush, featherlight, over her folds.

“Touch me, Sasuke-kun,” she begs in a whisper, rolling her hips against the air, leveling him with a needy stare. She spreads her legs wider, presenting all of herself to entice him into action, into granting her relief from the throbbing ache inside.

“Here?” he murmurs, that small grin she loves so much curving his mouth as he presses his palm fully over her dripping core.

She gasps, eyes rolling back as he rubs at her with his full hand, spreading her wetness all over. The tips of his fingers slip teasingly between her sensitive folds, one dipping slightly into her entrance now and then.

Her release is so close, maddeningly close but just out of her reach. She whines through Sasuke’s ministrations, canting her hips and begging him to give her what she needs, to push deep inside of her to touch that part of her that needs it most.

“Shhh,” he whispers, leaning forward until she feels surrounded by him, his heat, the scent of sage and ash and smoke. “I’ll take care of you, my love.”

And finally, finally, he sinks two fingers deep inside, curling, reaching and thrusting as he chants–

“Sakura.”

Her eyes fly open to find obsidian and hints of lavender staring down at her. The thin padding of her mission pack digs into the flesh of her cheeks, her blanket tucked high around her chin but tangled and askew around her legs.

His gaze is dark, apologetic when he murmurs, “I’m sorry to wake you, but we have to move on. I can smell a storm coming in soon. We should leave before it hits.”

Sakura nods shakily, sitting up abruptly and offering her sweetest smile. Once he turns to stalk out of the rickety abandoned shelter, she presses both hands to her blazing cheeks and muffles a groan in her knees.

Fuck.

~

The air is so cold it feels like tiny kunai scraping against his cheeks as it whips by. Water is falling in sheets toward the ground and in various directions. Freezing droplets splash against his scalp and the exposed skin of his throat, dribbling down to soak under his clothes. 

He glances to his side, single hand tightening over Sakura’s trembling fingers as she blinks up at him through spiky, wet lashes.

“It’s really coming down, isn’t it?” she murmurs. Sasuke is sure she is likely speaking at a normal volume; it is only that her voice is drowned out by the sound of the pouring rain, and the whistle of wind slashing through the trees and brush around them.

“Come on,” he says at an elevated volume, drawing her close to his side. “There should be a cave nearby to shelter in until the storm passes.”

A fizzling crack of lightning followed by a thunderous boom makes her flinch. Sakura shoots him a sheepish smile before shuffling closer to his side and ducking her head against the onslaught. Sasuke frees her wrist, fanning out his cloak to fall around her shoulders in a last-ditch attempt to shield her from the downpour. It is useless, he knows, as they have both been practically soaked to the bone already.

With her pressed this close to his side, Sasuke can feel the way her entire body is shivering. His hand unconsciously firms in its grip, fingers tightening at the curve of her waist. The bit of skin exposed by the cropped nature of her top is riddled with gooseflesh. He is attuned enough to her after weeks of close-contact that he can tell she is circulating her chakra in an attempt to keep warm.

He inhales deeply, the scent of rain, soil and Sakura filling his nose. As he exhales, he begins to follow suit, kneading his chakra beneath the surface of his skin and concentrating it in the palm of his hand at her side, where his hip is flush against hers as they tread heavily through the thick mud and water.

She shivers again, tightening a fist in his cloak and bringing it close to her chest. Her other hand snakes behind his back, fingers splaying at the center of his spine. He flits his gaze down to hers again and sees her pale cheeks tinted with the slightest bit of pink.

“Thank you,” she mouths, offering him a smile. Her soft bangs stick against the frame of her face, colored a dusky rose from the moisture. Her eyes somehow look brighter against the dark and the gray around them, shining like two jewels in her face.

“Aa,” he breathes. Another streak of lightning and clap of thunder sounds and then the rain begins to fall impossibly heavier.

Facing forward, he quickens his pace to a jog, clutching her absentmindedly to his side all the while.

~

By the time they reach the mouth of the cave, Sasuke and Sakura are dripping wet, pale and shivering. The storm rages outside, rivulets of water flooding the ground. Luckily this place is carved out of a ledge a few feet above ground level, high enough to avoid flooding and deep enough to protect against the violent winds and icy rain.

Sasuke drops his pack near the edge, venturing deeper while clutching a damp scroll. He unfurls it, using his sharingan to make things clearer in the darkness; with a click of his teeth, blood beads on the tip of his thumb and drips slowly onto the scroll. He murmurs a summoning jutsu and a pile of dry kindling appears.

He uses his katon , exhales a stream of flame to bring the fire roaring to life. He finds stray stones on the ground nearby and uses them to border the fire. A small sigh falls from his throat at the rush of warmth.

“That’s smart,” Sakura stutters from behind him. He turns to see her lingering near the mouth of the cave, dripping and shivering violently. “Storing firewood in a summoning scroll…genius.”

“Come closer to the fire,” he says, brow furrowing at the way her lips seem tinted purple even in the low, flickering light. “You’re freezing.”

She shakes her head, “I’m too wet. I need to change these clothes, and you do too…”

Her voice trails off as she drops shakily to a kneeling position, opening her pack and fumbling around. After a few moments she curses weakly and Sasuke rises to approach, peering down at her as she pulls out handfuls of wrinkled, wet fabric.

“Everything is soaked,” she sighs, cursing quietly again. “I wore the last of the clothes I had stored in my own scrolls. I should have known better. Fuck.” His lips almost quirk into a small smile; the very first week of their travels had brought the shocking realization that Sakura, sweet-voiced and angelic-faced as she was, cursed like a sailor.

His concern over her trembling form and blue-tipped fingers quickly kills any mirth he might have indulged.

“You’re going to get sick if you don’t get out of those wet clothes,” he says quietly. “I’ll check if there’s something in my bag that managed to stay dry.”

“Oh, Sasuke-kun…” she begins to protest, but Sasuke is already kneeling beside his own pack, rifling through his belongings.

Blood rises to his face slowly as he finds everything inside his bag is wet as well. He glances up at her apologetically.

“I have nothing dry enough,” he sighs, rising to a standing position. “I keep some bedding stored in my scrolls. We’ll have to make do with blankets alone.”

Sakura nods slowly, lashes fluttering as her gaze falls to the ground, focusing on the shadows cast by the dancing flame feet away. She fidgets for a second before reaching down to peel off her knee-high sandals, then, her tiny, pale toes flexing over the rocky ground.

Sasuke swiftly summons another scroll, pulling from it a small pile of thick blankets, and two thin sheets. He saunters toward the fire, laying the blankets as close as possible in the hopes that they would take on some extra warmth. He sheds his dripping cloak, tossing a kunai so that it wedges into the cave wall and hanging the garment from it. Even standing nearby the fire, a chill snakes down his spine as he levels a line of other kunai the same way, creating a space for them to hang up their clothes to dry.

He turns back to see Sakura clutching her arms around herself, shaking like the leaves being torn about by the racing winds outside.

“Here,” he says sharply, snatching up one of the thin sheets and walking briskly to stand in front of her, “take this and dry yourself. Then come wrap yourself in a blanket and sit by the fire. I’m going to quickly set up a few traps outside.”

Her teeth chatter as she said, “Sasuke-kun, I can help. Just let me-”

“Please,” he intercepts, stepping slightly closer. He can smell jasmine and rain and something sweet like berries standing this close. A hard swallow works down his throat before he urges her again, “Get warm. You’re shivering hard enough to break your bones. It will only take a moment, and it’ll give you privacy to…undress.”

Understanding lights her eyes and the tiniest pink flush dots her pallid cheeks. She nods again, creeping deeper into the cave and closer to the fire with her shoulders hunched forward. 

Sasuke exhales a slow, heavy breath before pivoting on his heel and trudging out of the cave into the chaos outside. Rain pours over him, icy and feeling almost solid with the force of the downpour. He moves as quickly as he can about the perimeter, anchoring traps where he can only hope they won’t be swept away by the tiny current building on the ground as it floods with water. He casts an area genjutsu, wide enough that he thinks the traps will be a last resort anyway.

It takes him all of a handful of minutes to secure their area, but he dawdles anyway– he tells himself it is to ensure Sakura has time to dry and remove her clothes in peace. But the staccato of his heart behind his ribs and the sharp breaths puffing steam in the cold air cue him into his own desire to avoid being in close quarters for as long as possible.

The first few weeks of their travels had been maddening; they both were awkward and stilted, him being moreso, of course. His attraction to her only intensified in proximity, causing him to struggle every moment to not stare at the way different levels of light cast over her face, to lean in to capture the tinkling of her quiet laughs. Sasuke had nearly embarrassed himself on multiple occasions with the urge to sniff at her sweet-scented hair and overall pleasant aroma, because it called to him so.

Now, these reactions were more tame. Exposure had served them well, lulling them into an ambience of comfort–an anticipatory stasis at best. Sparing a glance did not seem such a monumental feat, and he did not feel the need to study her for hours, as if he would not see her again at any given moment. 

Yet, all of the struggles of their early days alone rushed back and did so tenfold at night. Whether they sheltered in a cave like the one he loitered outside of now, or in adjacent rooms at a small-village inn, the late hours brought with them traces of insanity, a yearning so intense it would cause him embarrassment that would linger until the morning. 

He hesitates now, shivering and drenched because he is achingly aware that when he returns, Sakura will be bare save for one thin swathing of fabric. She will be close enough to breathe in her scent, to feel the essence of her chakra against his senses. 

He realizes that she is likely huddling close to the fire now, cold and trying to sap in warmth with only a blanket and a meager flame.

Inhaling deeply once more, Sasuke turns and makes his way back to the mouth of the cave, slowing his steps once he is deep enough to not feel the rebounding splashes of water as it ricochets off the ground. He pauses, glancing upward at Sakura who sits mere inches away from the makeshift fire pit, curled in a ball so tight her form seems tiny, insignificant among the looming shadows dancing over the walls.

“Sasuke-kun,” she says, each consonant trembling as her teeth chatter lightly. “You’re back.”

“You’re still cold,” he replies, browns pinching as he notes the shudders wracking her form. 

“Yeah,” she stutters, bobbing her head in a slightly disjointed manner. She attempts to give him a smile, nonetheless and his heart skips a beat. “It’s freezing. I’ll warm up soon, though. Hurry and get changed!”

He nods slowly, taking a few more steps before pausing again. His gaze falls to her small fingers clenched in the fabric at her chest, the still-damp locks of her hair falling waywardly around her face. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll close my eyes,” she snaps her lids shut, whipping her chin to the side so her face is turned away from him. “I won’t peek, promise.”

Sasuke chooses to believe the shiver that works his way down his spine is the result of the damp and the cold, and definitely not his body and mind traitorously reacting to the thought of Sakura choosing to watch him change, openly, instead.

She begins rocking back and forth as he makes quick work of slinging off his clothes. Her shoulder twitches under the blanket when his shirt falls with a wet smack onto the hard ground. He can see her visibly sucking in a deep breath when his pants follow suit. If he were not shivering from the low temperature, he is sure his face would be burning as he brusquely scrubs at his skin with a thin sheet, tossing that to the side before hunching, positioning his arm in front of his pelvis as he creeps forward carefully, inching around Sakura’s possible line of sight as he reaches to grab one of the blankets folded near the fire.

He tucks the fabric around him, relishing for a moment in the initial warmth before kneeling on his haunches as close as he can to the fire. As he positions himself, his shoulder brushes against Sakura’s and she perks up slightly, still turned away.

“You can open your eyes,” he murmurs. 

She swivels her head to face him, eyes blinking open slowly and fixing on his face. The green of her eyes is slightly marred by the orange glow of the fire, her lashes looking more red in the dim light. The flames glow is the only thing bringing color to her cheeks, her lips tinted with lavender in their pallor.

Sasuke stiffens, mind swirling with solutions to bring her temperature up high enough for the danger of hypothermia to fade. He considers giving up his blanket for a moment before realizing that Sakura would only expend her energy fretting and he would likely become sick with cold and burden her even if he managed to convince her to take it. 

“Tea,” he sputters, gnawing at his lip and blinking his eyes closed for a moment in humiliation when Sakura only tilts her head in confusion. “I’ll brew tea. Hopefully it’ll help us get warm more quickly.” 

“Oh,” she bobs her head vigorously. “Yes, tea. That’s a good idea, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke springs to his feet before she is completely done speaking, glad to be doing something useful, yes, but also to create some distance even if shuffling over to his packs near the cave wall takes him away from the warmth of the fire. He sucks in a few quick breaths, trying to calm his thudding heart as his fingers fumble for the small muslin pack holding his herbs. They are soaked and wilted, but hopefully useful enough to brew a decent, if not so flavorful tea. He holds the sack gently between his teeth, reaching once more for the light, steel teapot. He hooks the handle over his pinky finger and wrestles out his water tin before straightening with a small huff.

When he turns, Sakura is watching him over her shoulder. She offers him a small smile when their eyes meet and he nearly stumbles despite standing motionless. Heat makes a valiant effort to pool in his cheeks and he dips his gaze, watching his frigid toes as they tap across the rough, hard floor back toward the fire and his companion.

She murmurs a quiet Thank you, Sasuke-kun as he goes about preparing the brew. By the time the teapot is stabilized over the burning logs, Sasuke is left with nothing to do but to clutch his blanket around his shoulders and stare at the water, willing it to boil faster. Despite his own trepidation, he had sat down so close beside Sakura that he could feel her shoulder brush against his arm with every breath either of them took. 

His gaze wanders to the side for the umpteenth time in a handful of minutes, flitting over her pouty, chill-paled lips, the gentle arc of her brow and sweeping curve of her jaw. The freckles that are so faint in the natural light of the daytime seem stark, sprinkles of brown across the bridge of her nose and high points of the cheek due to how pale she has become. A shiver wracks through her and Sasuke tenses against the urge to reach out to her.

“Still cold?” he murmurs, pinning his gaze on her more fully. The fire was blazing strongly and most of the chill had faded from his own bones.

Sakura shivered again and scooted around slightly to face him. 

“Yeah,” she whispers, lips tilting in a sheepish smile. “It’s much better than before, though. I’m just a wimp when it comes to cold weather.”

As she says those words, a clap of thunder sounds, loud enough to echo into the cave. A whoosh of cold air sweeps in, causing the fire to bend and flicker before it rights itself again. Sakura’s teeth chatter.

“I’m sorry,” Sasuke-kun says, a frown creeping over his features. “I shouldn’t have taken us the long way around. I wasn’t expecting a storm like this so soon in the season.”

Sakura shakes her head quickly, “No, no! I’m glad you did, the scenery– it was a really beautiful route. I enjoyed it a lot. I’m sure that’s not why you took us that way, of course, but…”

“It was,” he interjects, clearing his throat when her wide, green eyes shoot up to peer into his face. He can see the flames dancing about her pupils, casting an orange tint in her iris. “It was why I…took the scenic route. To show you. I thought you would like it.”

“Oh,” she says quietly, the word more of a sigh. Her lips curve upwards again, into a shy, sweet smile. “I liked it. Loved it, really. The river and the flower fields were so beautiful.”

“Aa,” he mutters gruffly. “Good.”

He turns quickly, rising to his haunches to stir at the bubbling liquid in the pot, hoping the flames would cast glow enough to camouflage the red tint of his cheeks. 

Behind him, Sakura whispers, “Thank you for showing me, Sasuke-kun.” 

The spoon he is holding catches against the rim of the teapot with a loud clang as he grunts some unintelligible response. He can feel a blush burning from neckline to temple, but he sets about pouring tea into two travel mugs with the straightest face he can manage. Sakura’s thanks and her bright expression seem to replay on a loop in his mind; he is left wondering, briefly, if he had managed to capture the moment with his sharingan, not even knowing it had been engaged.

A quiet sniffle causes him to snap out of his thoughts, resting the teapot back over the fire and reaching to offer one of the steaming cups to his trembling companion. She grabs it with both hands, soft, cool fingers brushing over his before drawing back slowly. 

Sakura clutches the tea to her chest, shoulders hunched and head tipped downward to let the warm steam wash over her face. She sighs softly disturbing the whitish translucent stream rising about her cheeks for a second before inhaling deeply. 

“You make the best tea, Sasuke-kun,” she mumbles, leaning in closer and closing her eyes as she breathes deeply once more. “This smells nice. It feels good, too.”

Sasuke nearly chokes but forces out a quiet scoff, “You’re just happy because it’s warm.”

She lifts her head long enough to throw him a grin and a quick wink. Sasuke nearly tips over, fingers clutching tight around the mug that nearly slipped from his grasp. 

Pale, slightly chapped lips part, making a small o as Sakura begins blowing on her drink rhythmically. He finds himself mesmerized with the way her mouth puckers, the skin wrinkling slightly, soft folds looking like delicate petals. Her cheeks puff slightly, some of the color gradually returning to her flesh. It looks supple, so smooth and soft despite having spent time in the chafing cold. The fine hairs at her temples have begun to dry, curling slightly away from her forehead from the heat and steam. Sasuke has to bite the inside of his cheek to restrain the absurd urge to reach out and tap the rhombus on her forehead, the only thing that mars the perfection of the smooth expanse of skin.

Shutting his eyes, he lifts his cup to his lips, not even bothering to blow before chugging half of its contents. It’s hot, and burns going down his throat. But he mentally shrugs, because he breathes fire routinely and a little hot tea is not so bad in comparison.

The liquid is warm sliding down his throat, and he can feel it pool in his belly, chasing away most of the last dredges of cold from his muscles. Without his express permission, his eyes reopen and immediately come to rest on Sakura’s huddled form once more. He watches with apt attention as she blows gently once more, before bringing the cup closer to her mouth.

The metal rim rests on her plush lower lip, steam gathering at the top before she tilts the cup and slurps carefully, pulling the brew into her mouth. After the first tentative sip she sighs, humming quietly as she treats herself to a longer drink, tipping her chin back so that Sasuke catches a glimpse of the delicate column of her throat. It undulates softly with each of her swallows and his mouth runs dry, skin suddenly feeling rather hot beneath his blanket.

Bare skin. Just like hers is, hidden behind the thick layer of cloth. 

He swallows thickly, quickly throwing back the rest of his tea, hardly even tasting the earthy, if slightly bitter, flavor.

“Mmm,” Sakura hums, the sound between a relaxed exhalation and husky moan. Sasuke’s fingers tighten around his empty container. “That feels so good .”

She could have very well pulled those very words from his dreams, an echo of one of the many, many imaginings that had circulated through his psyche when he let himself indulge in the deepest, most unguarded kinds of rest. It was these same imaginings that would cause him to awaken suddenly, sweating and panting, aching so much that he would be forced to flee from whatever sheltering space he shared with Sakura to wait out the effects of his own torturous fantasies.

“Aa,” he croaks. 

Mechnically, he reaches to drain the last of the teapot’s contents into her cup, unable to prevent himself from openly staring as she repeats her process again. Curling into her own body, pursing her lips, blow, blow, blow , blow , inhale, exhale,  slurp, slurp, swallow. He watches as a deep shudder works its way down her body, her muscles visibly relax, shoulders falling away from her ears. A healthier flush takes residence high on her cheekbones, creeping slowly across the bridge of her nose. Her lips look moist now, more red than pink, soft and full with the blood finally rising to the surface.

She drains this portion quicker than the first, setting down her cup with a satisfied sigh. Delicate fingers come up and sweep through the nearly-dry strands of her hair, raking them back away from her forehead. A few chunks of her grown-out bangs slip down slowly to frame her forehead, and Sasuke’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch them, to brush them back and secure them behind the pretty pink shell of her ear.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun,” she says, voice stronger and more chipper. “Your tea pulled me away from death’s door!”

“Don’t joke like that,” Sasuke snaps, mouth flattening. Sakura only laughs, rocking back slightly and adjusting her grip on the blankets wrapped around her shoulders.

“Sorry,” she snorts quietly. “But really, I was starting to not be able to feel my toes. My body temperature has always run a bit on the low side… I thought maybe I was anemic or something. Tsunade says it’s just how I’m made. But it really sucks in situations like this.”

Sasuke only nods. He runs his eyes over her with a more critical eye, focusing on the digits peeking out from underneath the blanket at her chest and below, at the ends of her small feet. They have lost that palish blue hue, to his satisfaction. 

Sakura continues, as always, so gracefully undeterred by his lack of responsiveness. “You always run hot, isn’t that right?”

“Aa,” he nods in the affirmative. “Uchiha thing. Didn’t think you’d noticed.”

Red fills her cheeks and she chuckles, rubbing at the side of her neck, “Ah, well, I’ve had to look at you medically quite a few times. And running your vitals, too! Your natural state is like a low-grade fever. You’ll be happy to know I finally put a permanent note on your file, so no one else will force you to go through illness screenings because of your temperature.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, “It’s not like anyone else will ever be treating me.”

Sakura huffs, casting a disapproving glare at him that was more cute than ferocious.

“Sasuke-kun! None of our medics would ever turn away someone in need of medical care. It is against our code of honor.”

“Aa, I suppose they wouldn’t,” he says absentmindedly. Her flush has deepened and she chews on her lips in the most hypnotizing fashion. “But I’ll only ever want you.”

The words slip out of his mouth too easily, naturally. It is possibly the boldest thing he has ever said to anyone–to her – before but it feels so commonplace, so true , in all contexts, that he takes a moment to realize just how intense it is.

And by that time, Sakura has become so red that Sasuke fears for her health. He is caught between intense embarrassment and concern as she gapes at him for a split second, before clutching her blankets tighter to her chest and looking away from his face.

“O-oh,” she stutters, hands shifting under the fabric. “I’m flattered, then. And…I’ll always do my best to take care of you, Sasuke-kun. Whenever you need me to.”

Sasuke’s heart flutters then pounds in his chest. Always , he thinks. He knows he will always need her, but he has exhausted his bravery for the night and cannot bring himself to say it. So, he only nods, leveling her with a meaningful look, hoping that she will catch on to the things left unsaid between them. 

There are many of those things–but slowly, they rise to the surface and reveal themselves to the light. With each day, each evening spent side-by-side, he grows to know her and open up to her better. And she is patient with him, granting him the chance to meet her where she has already been at his own pace.

He is pulled away from the soft train of thoughts by a quiet cough, followed by a sniffle. Sakura throws him a small, light smile even as her hand rises to cover her mouth and she coughs again.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he frowns. “Here, take my blanket. My cloak should be dry enough.”

“No!” she seems to startle herself with the volume of her own voice. Her lips are beginning to tremble again, but she says, sternly, “Your cloak is definitely not dry, and I’m not going to let you catch pneumonia and die because you want to sleep with wet clothes on you. Keep your blanket, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke feels adequately chastised for a short moment, very close to being surprised at the tone she takes with him. He has heard it before, of course, usually when in the dobe’s company. Never had it been directed at him.

He is both amused and slightly pained by the experience.

Sakura shivers again and he forgets all about his wounded ego. He shoots a glance into the teapot, agitation gnawing at his insides.

“You’re cold again,” he states, wincing when the teapot is as empty as he knew it was. “At least I can brew more tea, though it’ll be weak…”

“No,” she interjects with a harsh exhale. “I can tolerate it, Sasuke-kun. I’ll just have to sleep it off–I’m tired anyway.”

The less than reasonable part of Sasuke’s mind immediately flashes to the worst-case scenario, Sakura freezing into a block of ice while they slumber. He submits himself to the idea of staying up throughout the entire night, keeping a vigil to maintain the fire as well as push his blanket off on her once he is sure she won’t awaken to scold him.

“You get rest, too,” she says. Sasuke nods stiffly, knowing he won’t. “ Seriously . If we spread out by the fire, it’ll be fine. Even better, if we…” 

Sakura trails off, pulling away Sasuke’s struggle against his newly developing morality which weighs the eternal cost of slipping Sakura into a slight genjutsu so she’ll sleep more heavily and not notice if he stays awake and gives her his blanket in the night. He tries to catch her gaze, only to find her studying the woven fabric in her lap.

“If we?” he prods. Her shoulders twitch and she hunches forward.

“Nevermind,” she mumbles.

“Sakura,” he says firmly. She flinches slightly but rolls her eyes. He has been firm with her in the past (many of those times to his deep regret).

“It’s silly,” she starts, sighing heavily. “But I was going to say, ‘even better if we lay close to each other’. Sharing close quarters means sharing body heat means sharing warmth. But, it’s not necessary and you burn hot enough already. So forget it! Good night.”

Sakura nods once, before unceremoniously flopping onto her back, then turning to her side and curling up in a tight ball facing the fire. Her form quivers slightly, drawn taut as if she is trying to staunch her reaction to the slowly increasing chill. 

Sasuke can only watch as she fidgets for a couple of minutes, bunching a portion of the blanket so it forms into a sort of makeshift pillow. Her body looks so small, curled up as it is, drowned in the thick fabric she has cocooned herself in. And yet he can still make out the small quivers.

With a deep breath, he turns his back to her, clicking his teeth at his thumb to draw forth a bead of blood. He summons three empty scrolls, unfurling them and tearing them into medium-large pieces with his hand and teeth. He can feel Sakura’s eyes on him from behind, but focuses on his task of tearing the thick, pristine paper until he has a hefty pile of scraps at his feet. Squatting close to the fire, he crinkles and stuffs wads of papers between the gaps of the burning logs. With a deep inhale, he breathes out a small stream of flame, urging the fire to lick higher, blaze hotter. 

Rising as smoothly as possible, and ignoring the eyes peeking at him from over the bunched blanket, Sasuke walks until he is but a single step away from where Sakura lays. He kneels behind her, watching carefully as her shoulders stiffen, her form ceasing any movement as if she is not breathing. 

He holds his breath, too, as he pulls the blanket from his shoulders, swiftly fanning it out so half of the large cloth falls over Sakura. Consequently, it covers her head and he uses that bare moment to dart under the other edge, securing it over his nude form just quickly enough before a pink head emerges and whips around in his direction.

“If lying close together keeps you warm, then that’s what we’ll do,” he says quietly before her parted lips can spew whatever words were brewing. “Sleep, Sakura.”

She looks as if she will protest, but he gives her his best blank stare. With a heavy sigh, her body relaxes incrementally and she casts only one more cursory gaze over her shoulder as she turns to face the fire once more. Sasuke clenches his jaw as she wriggles about under her blanket, and now part of his. A few times, he thinks her hip or elbow will brush against him, but she eventually settles, bundled tightly in both blankets.

A small yawn spills from her mouth before she utters softly, “Thank you, Sasuke-kun. Good night.”

Quicker than he thinks should be possible for any ninja, Sakura’s breaths even out and her body slumps, fully relaxed as she slips into slumber. He indulges in a tiny smile, shifting carefully until he is on his side, her back a mere six inches or so from his chest.

Sleep evades him; he is too aware of her proximity, her scent, the warmth of another body in his space. She is closer than anyone has been in a long time–perhaps ever in his life. He can smell the rain in her hair, residua of the herbal tea they drank. The scent of burning wood and ash tickles his nose, but still the sweetness that he can only name as Sakura reaches him. For a long while, he simply watches the rise and fall of her slender shoulders under the blanket, the shadows of the fire dancing against the small visible part of her cheek. Quiet snores begin to whistle through her nose and a sensation so endearing, compelling in its combined simplicity and intensity rises up from his belly, spreading through his chest. 

Sooner than he anticipates, his heartbeat slows from its frantic staccato, his breaths growing deeper and longer. His eyelids grow heavy, blinks coming more frequently by the second before the sounds, sights, smells and feeling of Sakura lull him, too, into sleep.

~

A violent shaking causes him to jerk awake. First, he notices the dark, only the barest of dim orange flicking in a sea of blackness. Then, he notes a weight against his chest, the cause of the quaking that drew him into consciousness in the first place.

It is not even an hour since he finally succumbed to sleep, he guesses. Yet the air inside the cave is frigid cold, heavy with moisture as thunder booms and wind sends rain thrashing audibly outside. 

Sasuke's eyes manage to focus on a head of light-colored hair, and he leans forward to peer into the face pressed into his shoulder. Pale brows are drawn tight, pearly teeth peeking between pale lips, chattering. A tiny whimper falls from that mouth and his chest grows tight.

He shushes her quietly, emitting an unfamiliar, husky coo as he reaches to loosen her iron-clad grip on the blankets slipping haphazardly on down his torso. The fact that he actually manages to free the fabric and himself from her grip (with quite a bit of effort, despite his desire to be careful) cues him into the fact that she is still asleep, albeit freezing.

Moving as swiftly as possible, he rises to his feet, situating both blankets around her as they have slipped down her back in favor of being clutched to her front. Next he stalks close to the dying fire, grabbing handfuls of his pre-cut, makeshift kindling and stuffing it over the struggle coals. He blows gently until it catches a tiny flame, inhaling deeper and pouring from his mouth in a spherical katon . The fire blazing strongly once more, Sauske returns to kneel by Sakura’s shivering form, hand shielding his pelvic area.

“C-cold,” comes a hoarse murmur. He jerks in surprise, activating his sharingan to peer down at her face. Her eyes remain closed, lashes fluttering but never sliding open. “So cold…”

His heart squeezes before beating wildly against its cage. Biting his lip, he fights against his own shiver as the cold creeps over his skin. Making sure to keep his gaze fixed on her tightly-drawn face, Sasuke reaches his hand out to Sakura, gripping her shoulder lightly before rubbing his hand up and down the side of her body. He hopes, desperately, that the brisk motions would bring her some additional warmth.

Shudders wrack her frame and he can feel the muscles bunching under his hand, fighting to curl even more inwards onto herself. She thrashes suddenly, rolling dangerously close to the fire, with her back turned to him. The blankets nearly unravel completely, tangled about her legs and covering her only to the hip. She cries out painfully as the cold of the cave bites at the exposed skin of her back, sprouting gooseflesh and bringing forth another violent shiver. 

“Sakura,” Sasuke breathes, snatching the blankets up over her once more. She struggles still, seeking warmth but preventing him from situating the blankets effectively in the process.

“I’m freezing, Sasuke-kun,” she moans, voice too sluggish and slurred to be fully lucid. “Freezing, freezing…”

Sasuke grinds his teeth nearly to dust. Before his logical mind can fully catch up to the action, he is ripping the blankets away from her form completely. Her startled cry does not even manage to echo into the cave before he is pressed up behind her, throwing first one blanket and then the other over both of them. He curls his right leg over both of hers, using it to drag her closer, nestling the stub of his left arm under her head and slipping the right between the two blankets to curl over her waist.

“Shhhh,” he hisses into her hair, exhaling heavily onto her neck in the hopes that his breath would aid in his efforts to warm her. “Rest. It’ll be warm soon.”

She sniffles, shaking and shivering as she burrows further into the blankets, further into his embrace. 

He endures a few long minutes of her wriggling, his mind torn between extreme concern, embarrassment and distant elation before she stills slightly and releases a relieved exhale. As if in a faint, her muscles loosen all at once, her body relaxing into his. He breathes in short inhales and long exhales, fingers clenching and unclenching at her waist, torso stiffening with each minute shift she makes as she slowly falls back into a deeper sleep. Her skin feels cool against his, and soft, so soft . Were he not in such a daze and so on edge from her frightening condition a few minutes before, he might have fixated on the suppleness of her waist or the press of her thighs in front of his. 

Instead, he focuses on the sound of her breathing, relaxing bit by bit as it filters through her nose easier and more slowly by the second. Eventually her skin seems to feel warmer, his own body growing quite hot with the weight of two blankets over him and another human body lying just so. He nestles impossibly closer, anyway, hoping to emanate as much warmth as he can.

Exhaustion grips him and he finds himself falling more deeply into sleep, irresistible with the weight of Sakura’s body against his own, and the feeling of her safe and secure within his grasp.

~

Sasuke feels hot. His skin is prickling with the sensation of licking flames, his blood simmering in his veins. The heat is centralized in his core, pooling low in his belly and radiating throughout his form.

He exhales, fingers clenching over something soft, smooth. The smell of jasmine, cherry blossom, her , fills his nose with each inhale.

Ah, this dream again.

Sakura is fitted snugly in his grasp, her back to his front. He can feel her hair brushing over his collarbones, the plush flesh of her buttocks cradled in his hips. Her thighs rest flush against his, a slim, smooth calf hooked around his knee. 

A slight shift causes white-hot pleasure to shoot down his spine, and Sasuke shudders. He feels as if every one of his nerve endings is at attention, soaking in the sensation of her skin against his, the breath expanding her chest and a slow, rhythmic motion rocking him back and forth.

The feeling of something warm, slick, soft slides over his shaft and he sighs deeply. His hand slips down, squeezes a plush handful of flesh before slipping back up to dance over her ribs. Her skin is like silk, his rough fingers sliding so easily. She shifts again, forward , back , pressing into him with a curve to her spine, straining against his grip at her front. It all feels so real that Sasuke nearly succumbs to the pull of a deeper slumber, tempted to stay asleep and continue to see where this fantasy leads. 

It is different this time. His surroundings are not so clear as usual– his imaginings usually for vivid, visually stimulating than this new, physical stimulus. A faint orange glow flickers at the edge of his awareness, a rustling sound like shifting fabric and cracking embers filtering in slowly.

He shakes himself mentally, painstakingly forcing himself into awareness. The dream grips him, forcing him to remain locked in his psyche where Sakura is clutched against his chest, where she is soft and warm and wet and…

Sasuke’s eyes fly open and he chokes on a gasp. The first thing he sees is pink obscuring his vision. Blinking away the wayward strands, he sees next a roaring fire, the rough cave wall washed with shadows.

And then he feels , a slow drag over his achingly hard member, slippery and hot, cushioned between two walls of warm, firm flesh.

Then he hears a sigh, sweet and underscored with a high-pitched wine.

“Sasuke-kun…”

A startled groan falls from his mouth as the dragging sensation comes again, and he drops his gaze down to the form in front of him, only partially shielded by a blanket that is bunched haphazardly about his waist. 

“Sakura,” he chokes. 

I must be dreaming, still. Sasuke nearly gives in to the urge to stay asleep when another quiet, gasping moan spills from her lips as her hips rock back into him before curling forward, his throbbing shaft trapped between her thighs. His hips flex in response to the motion, white flashing over his vision again before he shakes his head violently, willing himself to wake up .

“Fuck,” he rasps, yanking his hand away from its spot on her ribs, disturbing the blanket further with the motion. 

Red bleeds over his iris, his eyes widening as he takes in Sakura’s bare form. Her skin is flushed, glistening with a fine layer of sweat. Muscles bunch and ripple under the skin of her back, the knobs of her spine peeking through with each rolling grind of her waist. She writhes against him, her head falling back into his chest and revealing a face with features twisted in a distant expression.

Her eyes are closed. His, on the other hand, are definitely open which means that he is not dreaming. 

But Sakura…is.

“Sakura,” he calls hoarsely. His hand shakes, floating uselessly in the air as he attempts to control his ragged breathing, flinching as she makes that rocking motion once more and sends pleasure rattling down his spine. 

“Mm,” she murmurs, “Sasuke-kun…”

She’s dreaming of me , he realizes in a daze. His trembling fingers fall to her shoulders, squeezing more tightly than he intends as he attempts to rouse her with a gentle shake.

“No, no,” she murmurs, and his hand snatches away from her. Her thighs clench tighter around him and he sees stars. “Stay…stay…”

Arousal and heartache combine in a terrible mixture, swirling in his gut. Sasuke bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, letting his hand fall on her shoulder once more.

“Sakura,” he says firmly, making his voice as clear as possible even as the pace of his undulations increases, the wetness becoming more apparent against his turgid member. His pulse thunders, nearly drowning out her gasping whimpers and breathy moans. “ Wake up. ”

Sakura jerks, her hands fisting in the blanket that managed to get stuffed against her front. Her head whips in his direction, wide eyes falling on him from over her shoulder. 

The world seems to freeze around them as they both stare into each other with bated breath. The sound of the fire crackling and the winds outside seem loud in the silence, suddenly absent both their panting breaths and her unconscious ramblings. 

Her gaze darts away from his face for a flash of a second, flitting to their surroundings before swerving back to his. Her eyes grow impossibly wider and her mouth–Sasuke notes that it is moist, red and indented as if her teeth had sunk into the lower lip–gapes.

“Sasuke-...kun?” Sakura croaks, voice unsteady and breathless. 

He can only stare down at her, unable to form a full thought as he watches her glossy eyes blink up at him convulsively, her cherry-red lips plump and shining in the dim glow. 

“You were dreaming,” he manages to whisper, biting back a groan as a shudder works its way down her form. Even the slightest motion brings attention to their intimate contact, bodies still flush against each other.

“I- Sasuke,” she gasps, shaking in earnest now. Her chest heaves and one of the blankets slips to expose part of a full, pert breast. A dusky nipple peeks just over the edge, plump and distended and oh so… tempting.

“You were dreaming,” Sasuke raps, shifting his body and eliciting his own shiver as the movement causes friction between them once more, “of me.”

“I’m sorry,” she chokes. The flush on her cheeks darkens, her hands scrabbling over the blankets in an attempt to cover herself. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

Her words cut off with a gasp, lashes fluttering as she twists her waists to escape from his grasp, the motion causing the head of his rigid arousal to slip through her folds. A low, rumbling groan finally rips free from his chest and she freezes, panting hard as she tilts her head to meet his gaze once more.

Sakura’s lips are sweet, soft between his own when he jerks forward to suck them into his mouth. They part on a startled exhale, a soft tongue slipping out to join his as she hums a quiet, helpless moan. 

Their teeth clash and sink into giving flesh, tongues slipping, sliding and thrusting in a frenzied dance. He delves into her mouth as deeply as he can, tasting her essence and the remnants of the tea they shared, feeling each texture, ridge, bump of the insides of her mouth. 

When his lungs burn for air, he retreats slightly, tugging her lower lip with his teeth to its limits, opening his eyes to stare down at her in a daze. Her hands have lost their grip on her coverings, one reaching up to tangle in the hair behind his neck and the other shaping the underside of her breast. 

As if of its own accord, his lone hand plants itself at the beginning of the luscious curve of her hip, tracing a line up the side of her waist. His fingers creep upward until they meet the hand at her chest, sliding over the obstacle to splay over the globe of her breast, relishing the weight of it and the tickling brush of her pert nipple against his palm.

Sakura moans softly, drawing him back to her mouth as her hips sway into his again, backward then forward. This time, Sasuke is lost to the sensation, to his instinct and curls his own hips against her, rocking into her once, twice, then many more times at a building pace. 

Soon she is panting into his mouth, their lips grazing against each other sloppily, hardly kissing at all. His hips snap against the round flesh of her behind, his member throbbing and dripping with her arousal and his as it slides back and forth over her softest lips. 

Sakura , his mind chants. And perhaps between the tiny spaces and breaths between their dancing mouths, he calls her name aloud too. 

“Ah, gods,” she cries softly, gripping her free hand over the one resting at her breast. She squeezes their fingers over herself and bears down on his shaft, slipping back and forth until he is nestled deep into her slit.

His grip tightens and he pulls his hips back as far as they will go without completely losing their contact– when he careens forward again, the very tip of his dips into what he can only describe as a well of pure, liquid heat before slipping forward and through her folds again.

Sakura’s hips jerk and she loosens his grip on his hair, her face turning away as she lets out a sharp cry. 

He freezes, even as she continues to undulate against him, trying to blink past the haze that had taken his mind the last handful of minutes.

“Sakura,” he says breathily, swallowing thickly as the hand that was in his hair tugs at the blankets until they lay carelessly at the edge of the fire. “Should we…?”

“Don’t stop,”  she hisses, reaching back once more to cup her fingers around his nape, pressing her hips back into his pelvis. Her breast presses more deeply into his hand with the arch of her back and he grits his teeth.

“If we don’t,” he pants, dipping his face into the curve of her neck and inhaling deeply, “There’s no telling how far I’ll go.”

His teeth graze the soft skin over her racing pulse and he bites down, sucking and nibbling at the spot recklessly. Distantly, somewhere his logical self is screaming, banging against the wall of arousal and pent up frustration to call for control.

Sasuke’s inner consciousness is silenced for good when Sakura gasps out, “Go as far as you can, Sasuke-kun. Take me with you.”

With a sound resembling a growl crawling from somewhere deep in his chest, Sasuke loosens his grip at her breast, sliding his hand over a muscular thigh and heaving it up, and back to hook behind his hip. Then he braces his hand at the crease between her thigh and pelvis, swinging his hips back until his dripping tip notches at the source of the wetness that has made them both slick and glistening. 

The barest flex of his hip has the head of him teasing past the syrupy rim of her entrance and stars seem to take over his vision. He blinks to clear his head, sucking in deep breaths and restraining the urge to careen forward and sheathe himself inside of her as quickly as possible.

“Are you sure, Sakura?” he manages to grit out, gentling his grip at her hip and nuzzling his cheek against the edge of her jaw. “Is this what you really want?”

“Yes,” she breathes. Her hips tilt back, she opens herself to him more fully. “I want you so bad, Sasuke-kun. I need it.”

His breath falls out of him on a shudder and he grips her tightly again, brushing his lips over her shoulder, neck and jaw in what he hopes is a soothing manner. 

“I’ve dreamed of this, too,” he murmurs, slipping his eyes shut as he slowly curls his hips, pressing against her soft flesh slowly until it gradually gives and parts around him. She lets out a low moan. “Ever since you joined me, every night you lie by my side…I dreamed of this.”

Sasuke’s entire body is trembling with strain, his member throbbing with each centimeter it sinks into her depths. Her walls flutter around him, her core squeezes and releases in maddening increments. The urge to slam the remainder of his length into her until he is buried to the hilt is strong, but he curbs that instinct, unwilling to cause her pain. He feeds himself to her inch by achingly slow inch.

“If this is still a dream,” he gasps, stilling for a moment as her inner muscles spasm around him, her body bunching tight when nearly half of him is inside, “I hope I never wake up.”

“Sasuke-kun,” she begs, hips tilting back and spine arching severely. “Please. Please .”

With a deep, shaky breath Sasuke slips his hand up her body, bracing her throat with his palm and cradling her jaw with his fingers. He opens his eyes, shifts to catch her glistening gaze and slides deep, until he can move no further. 

Sakura’s head knocks back against his chin on a loud, guttural moan, and his tight grip on his restraint snaps. 

Flesh meets flesh with loud, wet smacks as he rocks into her, gripping tightly at her jaw and pressing his forehead to her crown. Choked groans and uttered curses spill from his mouth as his perception of reality slips away, his mind only able to hone in on the sound of her rhythmic cries, the snap of his hips against her ass and the tight, slick grip of her sliding over him, again and again and again .

Sakura thrashes in his grip, hips knocking backward to meet his thrusts as her upper body arches away from him. His hold on her face, at her neck keeps her in place to receive each unforgiving thrust, his pace as wild and untamed as the fire blazing through his veins. When he opens his bleary eyes, his irises swirl, taking in and cataloging the sheen of sweat on her skin, the ripple of her toned muscles beneath. Her cheek is warm and wet with a combination of sweat and the tears trickling slowly from the corner of her squinted eyes.  

Sasuke moans deeply, curling his body over hers to drag his tongue over her face, lapping at the salty perspiration before kissing his way desperately toward the corner of her mouth. He wrenches her head toward him so he can plunder her lips with his own, thrusting his tongue against hers in a pace matching the way his shaft burrows into her core.

“Sas-,” she slurs around his lips, sharp nails fixing themselves in the flesh of his forearm. His hips piston faster, more forcefully in response.

She is everything he has imagined, more . A culmination of every one of his fantasies, dreams and wishes made flesh. A keening whine builds in her chest and she gasps out his name, a shiver wracking her entire form as her nails dig more deeply into his flesh and prickles of pain sprout where her hand tugs at the strands of his hair.

“Let go,” he grunts, half desperate as he laves the skin of her neck with his tongue, sucking the lobe of her ear between his teeth. He smells jasmine, sweet fruits, rain, Sakura and now him all over her skin. “ My Sakura.”

“ Sasuke-kun! ” her voice is a shattering cry and her inner walls grip him so tight white flashes over his vision. Her hips stiffen before roiling in dizzying circles and waves, nearly dislodging him from her fountain. 

A rush of liquid coats his shaft and both of their thighs between them and suddenly the heat bubbling deep in his core bubbles over, a tingle forming at the base of his spine as his hips snap forward once, twice before tunneling him deep inside the third time and pressing tight against her. His shaft throbs, jerking into her depths as he spills everything he has inside of her until he is sure some of his own essence leaks out to join hers between their legs.

They jerk and pant together for long seconds that could be millennia before finally the aftershocks fade, the muscles of his abdomen relaxing as she falls, weightless into his chest. 

Sasuke cradles her close, squeezing his eyes shut as their breaths slow and the final twitches of his muscles cease. He can tell the air around them is beginning to cool but he still feels flushed, their skin sticking with their combined sweat and fluids.

He searches for trepidation, for guilt, but can find none. Only a deep-rooted satisfaction warms his chest, creeping into his extremities until he cannot resist a tiny smile from curving his lips before he presses them to the flushed skin of her shoulder.

“Some dream, eh?” Sakura breaks the silence quietly, emitting a small, slightly shaky laugh.

Sasuke hums in response, sliding his hand down, between her breasts to rest over her lower abdomen. 

“Aa,”  he says, huskily. 

“Should we…talk about it?” she asks, her voice still breathless with exertion but carrying a tinge of hesitance that sets a fire burning in his depths.

“If this is a dream,” Sasuke muses, slowly untangling himself and relishing in the shudder that works its way down his lover's spine when he slips free from her core, “there are still many things to be done. We can talk in the morning.”

Sakura squeaks when he grabs her thigh and tosses her gently to lie on her back. Green eyes widen up at him, a deep flush spreading from her temples to the tops of her full, delicious looking breasts as he snatches a blanket, fanning it around his shoulders and then plants himself on his knees between her spread out legs. His gaze slips down to her soft, dampened pink curls.

“This part, I fantasize about often,” he murmurs dazedly, peering down at the milky fluid dripping slowly from her folds. 

Sakura gasps before crying out when the blanket billows over both of them and he slides down to plant his face between her thighs.

End.

Tag list: @zenonico @ephemeredoll @psalloacappella

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Silent Choir Shaina Tranquilino October 4, 2024

The school hallways hummed with their usual humdrum as Ms. Daniella Goldsmith, the music teacher, made her way to her classroom. The distant chatter of students, lockers slamming shut, and footsteps clicking across the polished floors filled the air, a comforting, familiar noise.

But something had changed. It was subtle at first—a faint, almost imperceptible sound that fluttered at the edge of Daniella's hearing. As she stepped into her classroom, her fingers brushing the keys of the grand piano, the sound grew louder. A whispering chorus, so soft it could have been mistaken for the wind rustling through the leaves outside.

No one else seemed to notice.

Daniella paused, glancing around the empty room. Her students wouldn’t arrive for another ten minutes, and the silence should have been absolute. Yet the choir lingered, hovering just beyond her reach. A chorus of voices—soft, eerie, and dissonant—humming a melody she couldn’t place.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Was it her imagination? She strained her ears, her pulse quickening. The voices wove together, rising and falling in a chilling harmony. Children’s voices. Ethereal, disembodied, but unmistakably real.

The choir sounded like it was coming from the walls.

Daniella shook her head, dismissing it as fatigue. She’d been staying late at the school to prepare for the winter recital, and perhaps it was wearing on her nerves. Still, the uneasy feeling lingered, clinging to her like a shadow.

The following days, the whispers grew louder.

Each time Daniella sat at her piano, the ghostly choir swelled, as if it responded to her presence. She tried asking her students, her colleagues, even the janitor if they had heard anything unusual, but no one had. They all looked at her with puzzled expressions, their replies coated in awkward politeness.

"Maybe it's stress," one of her fellow teachers had said, offering a sympathetic smile.

But Daniella knew it wasn’t stress. The choir was real.

One evening, long after the students had gone home and the school was dark and still, Daniella sat in her classroom, determined to trace the source of the voices. She followed the whispers, her feet moving as if guided by an unseen hand. The air grew colder as she moved down the hall, the song growing louder with each step.

The choir’s melody pulled her to the basement—a part of the school rarely used, its dimly lit corridors filled with dust and forgotten relics. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, the chill in the air biting at her skin.

But the choir urged her on.

Daniella descended the steps, the soft murmur of the choir rising until it became almost deafening. The basement was damp, the walls lined with old music stands, broken instruments, and forgotten school supplies. At the far end of the room, she noticed something peculiar—a section of the floor where the tiles didn’t quite match.

Her breath hitched.

A sinking feeling washed over her as she knelt to examine the tiles. The mismatched section was loose, the edges crumbling as if it had been disturbed before. Her hands shook as she pried the tiles free, revealing the earth beneath.

And then, she saw it.

Beneath the tiles, buried shallowly in the dirt, were small bones—too small to be anything but human. A wave of nausea hit her as she realized what she was seeing. Tiny skeletal remains, barely larger than a child’s arm, laid in a haphazard grave beneath the school. A grave that had been hidden for decades.

The voices surged around her, the choir now a cacophony of pain and sorrow. Their song was no longer a whisper but a wail, each note filled with agony. The children’s voices—their ethereal lament—finally made sense.

Daniella stumbled backward, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind raced as pieces of a forgotten story began to fall into place. Decades ago, before the school had been rebuilt, a fire had ravaged the old building. It was a tragedy that had been quietly erased from the school’s history. Children had died in that fire, their bodies never found.

Until now.

The Silent Choir wasn’t just a strange phenomenon. It was a plea for justice, a desperate cry from the forgotten children whose bones had been buried and forgotten beneath the school.

Daniella could barely breathe as the voices crescendoed, the weight of their suffering crashing down on her. She had uncovered the school’s dark secret, and now the ghosts of the past demanded to be heard.

The next morning, Daniella stood outside the principal’s office, clutching the school’s old records in her trembling hands. The weight of the truth pressed down on her, but she knew what she had to do.

The Silent Choir had been silenced for too long.

As she opened the door, the whispers followed her, lingering in the air like an unfinished song.

[jes7er]

ultimate kinlist format lfg

[silentvoicescryingout]

Would *love* it if people asked me stuff. Answering questions is my jam!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines. 

Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

[theneophileswords]

"Beyond the roar, in Quiet's embrace, Lies a serene, unspoken grace. It's where the soul finds its True pace, In Silence's soft, ethereal space."

[cifrado2023]

WERDE ZUM GELDMAGNET🎉💸

look in BIO

Durch die Anpassung deiner finanziellen Intelligenz wirst du zu einem Geldmagneten.

Geld ist gespeicherte Energie und nur der Aufbau von limitierenden Überzeugungen vermittelt uns den Eindruck von Mangel.

Die verwendeten Suggestionen durchbrechen diese Limitierung und öffnen dich für ein Überfluss-Bewusstsein.

[kavipelai]

#kavipelai #mounam #mounampesiyadhe #silent #silentvoice #voice #voiceover #alagu https://www.instagram.com/p/CmGkts6ygxR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[spiritshaydra]

WOE WARRIOR CATS BE UPON YE

Okay so YEARS ago back when I first got into TFP, I didn’t know how to draw humanoids OR mecha so I just drew catformers instead. Flashback to last year, and I’ve came full circle by doing it yet again 💀

ANYWAYS so my dumbass warrior cat AU where the Nemesis crew is like,, a sort of Great Value Shadowclan? With the ‘bots being off brand Thunderclan. NO idea if they’d have their own unique clan names yet so I’ve just been,, calling these morons Whoreclan 💀💀

FIRST OFF WE GOT MEG who’s the Leader

He’s just gigantic hairy asshole of a Maine coon who you know for a FACT he sheds like hell just by looking at him. He definitely killed the previous leader of the Clan because they sucked. He’s got an addiction to catnip 💀 also no idea what his cat name is yet,, maybe Greystar? Silverstar??? Lmao no clue

NEXT FELINE FREAK is Starscream! He’s the conniving deputy of these losers. I was thinking that his cat name is something like Shrikescream? Because,, he can’t be called Starscream because if he was made leader his name would become Starstar and yeeeeaaaaah 💀💀💀 I was also thinking that all of those rusty red streaks on his fur are also all artificial, like how bearded vultures dye their feathers with clay. But except he’s a cat. So nope, not a weird calico, but just a stained grey cat.

NEXT IS SOUNDWAVE

He’s a very high ranking warrior who’s also easily the best at patrolling and being all around creepy. He’s mute as well. He also seems to be on really good terms with a raven of all things. As for his cat name,, I can’t decide on if he’s just,,, still gonna be called Soundwave or if he’s gonna have a cat name like Silentvoice.

I’m still not sold on his coloration,,, might make those light silvery blue patches that mimic his biolights red or gold instead, which would essentially make him a tortishell instead of a weird colorpoint,,

dude’s just the resident cryptid

HELLA WE GOT KNOCKOUT NEXT

Dude’s the Medicine cat

also not sure what degree of his coat coloration is natural, and what portion is stained with clay like Starscream. Breakdown’s his apprentice and assistant :) The med cat den is also like a hotspot for gossip and other inane chatter, who cares if there’s a cat being patched up on the ground (it’s Starscream) there’s juicy tea to be spilled!

As for cat name,,, I thought something like Redlight would be funny 💀

I still wanna do the designs for the rest of the clowns,, especially Breakdown and Shockwave,,, (and Airachnid who I’ve decided will be called Spiderflight because haheheahaheh spider,,, flying,,,)

ALSO BONUS QUANTUM

Her names Six-Toes (her pre-warrior name being Quailpaw) and she has a perpetual case of that blue eyed stare. Nobody really knows WHAT exactly she is?? Other than she’s the size of a Maine coon, a tortie, has the coat of a Lykoi, and polydactyly. She can often be found in the Freak Corner of the Warrior Den sharpening bones and sticks because “it’s useful I swear” for… whatever reason. She’s also got beef with Shockwave who could,,, literally care less.

might also hit my other OCs with the cat mallet. (The mew mallet?? The miaullet???)

Bonus kittens <33 LOOKIT THEM ICKLE BEASTIES

[koi7774]

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

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#fyp #art #digital #digitalart #lookingformutuals #artfriends #newacc #newusername #explaination #hi #hello #apple #appleproduct #horse #babyhorse #red #pink #sketch #WIP #heart #humanheart #procreate #koi #person #protrait #koifish #kny #demonslayer #tokyorev #Pokémon #MHA #silentvoice #portrait #idk #russian #english #french #korean

[kurokensei41]

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[silentvoicescryingout]

we await the floods

Read on Ao3

  For cherrytomoeto, by silentvoicescryingout

The sun is bright, the air warm and fragrant. The silence of the forest is hardly that at all; each second and the transient modicums in between are filled with ambient noise. Wind whistling through trees, water trickling over rocks. A bird cawing here, a wild hare snuffling through dry grass there. Creatures cooing, the earth singing its quiet, yet reverberant song. 

In the midst of it all stands an imposing, lone creature. Tall, lithe and dark of mane, sharp-mouthed and fine-jawed. Eyes that glow deep red like burning embers.

“What brings you here, small one?” says the figure, voice rich and deep. 

Sakura rises from her haunches, clutching her woven basket against her side. As she approaches, the light from the sun shining above beats down over her head, fractals of rose and gold reflecting off her pink locks, her honeyed face. Eyes green like the mountainside, green like the moss climbing up the trunks of towering trees settle first on the coastline and then upon him.

“I am small, among many things,” she says, casting her eyes over his face for a long moment. “Nameless, I am not.”

“Sasuke,” he offers, tipping his chin ever so slightly. 

“Sasuke,” she repeats, full, berry-pink lips widening in a tiny smile as she dips her head. “Of the fire. The Fae King’s second son. I know who you are.”

“You do,” he says, blinking slowly as his red irises flicker over her face. “Who are you, then? Surely you stray far from home.”

“I am called Sakura,” she states, glancing away to peer at the small waves lapping against the sand. “And I am far from home.”

A small, dainty, bespeckled hand moves to lift the cloth resting atop the basket at her side. Spinly green shrubbery is revealed.

“I am here collecting these little plants,” she murmurs, voice soft, almost a coo as she runs her fingers lightly over the bristles. “Legend says that the best medicine could be found at the edge of the land, sprouting mere weeks before the floods.”

“And you would risk the journey and the waters for it?” Sasuke’s fine brow quirks, a quizzical glint in his eye.

They two, although separated by much distance, are both children of the Earth. It is impossible for them to cross moving waters (and how terrible would it be for the waters to cross them). Risk enough persists when one dares to even dip their toes in the swells.

Both have risked much coming to this place, daring to linger by the coast even as the sea prepares to swell.

Slender shoulders shrug, “The waters do as they must, and I know to keep my distance. I can mark the phases of the moons.”

“The waters obey no moon nor markings,” he mutters, a bitter note to the richness of his tone. “The floods come when they must, not necessarily when they should.”

“And yet you risk it,” Sakura smiles with another shrug. “I bet it’s not even for the best medicine in the world. Me , I will be helping many sick people by venturing so far.” 

“Tch,” the whites of his eyes hide the red for a moment as they roll upward. “A healer, then. I should’ve known.”

“Pardon my station, great Majesty,” the elven woman responds dryly. “Pray do not burn me to ash where I stand.”

Another scoff is carried away by a strong gust of wind and Sasuke takes a long stride forward. The gentle tide laps mere inches away from his sandaled toes and as Sakura watches with a critical eye, his knees begin a slight tremble.

“The Fae must be in an uproar with their Prince away,” her soft voice muses. 

“I go where I please.”

His legs start to shake in earnest. Green eyes bore into him as his chest rises and falls with each haggard breath. 

“Ah, in that much we are alike,” she murmurs. Sasuke’s long fingers have curled into a tight fist. “Pray step away from the water, Prince.”

His eyes narrow until mere slits of blood-red irises are visible as he peers across the glittering waves, sunlight reflecting off his pinched features.

“Pray leave me to my solitude,” he mutters, but stumbles back a step nonetheless. 

Sakura’s hands glow green and then they are pressed against his chest. Applying light pressure, she pushes him back one pace, then two, three. A coolness sinks into his over-hot flesh, a feeling like taking a seat in the cold, damp soil under the shade of a large tree after days of long-journey.

The aches of his body and his consciousness seem to slip away as they both sink to the sand. It is coarse, gritty against his palms but no more noticeable than the sensation that sweeps through him. Like a balm applied to his inside, it smooths over his muscles, below to the sinow, sinking deep (but soft, gently) into the marrow of his bones. 

“The tide rises, Prince,” Sakura’s voice is weak and yet the wintry aura does not falter. “We must move elsewhere. It weakens you.”

“ You weaken me,” he slurs, eyes burning less brightly by the moment. A flickering ember rather than simmering coal. 

“Come,” she breathes. Her small hands move to his shoulders, hauling him up to unsteady feet.

Her petite frame is bent nearly double under his weight, but she trudges forward. 

Hours, she walks. Till sweat clings the fabrics of her clothes, and her breath burns icy in her throat. Yet her grip does not falter, her arms rigid with strain as she pulls them further and further away from the waters which siphon their strength. Sasuke is limp for much of the journey, hardly conscious until the distance between them and the shore is large enough that the sounds of crashing waves muffles.

The sun is falling steadily, but beats heavy still against Sakura’s brow as she crests a tall hill. A tiny hut sits deep within a cocoon of thin trees and hanging vines and it is at an overgrown path to the doorway that the elf falls to her knees.

“Small one,” Sasuke rasps. “Here you have weakened yourself and yet admonish me for the same.”

Pink strands spill toward the ground like silk when the fairy heaves Sakura into his arms. He stumbles the entire way up to the tiny abode, but keeps a tight grip on his passenger. Sweat beads at her temples, trickling slowly down the sides of her face and pooling in her exposed clavicle. The golden hue of her skin has turned grayish and wan.

There is a layer of dust on every surface inside and so Sasuke manages to cradle the small figure against his chest with one arm briefly enough to wave his hand and send a gust of air just strong enough to remove the thickest layers.

Her lips tremble and teeth begin to chatter as he lays her down upon the low-sitting, narrow bed in a far corner of the place. 

“ Foolish elf,” says he, running his warm palms over her arms. “How can someone I’ve known for less than a day irritate me so?”

   “Ah, such gratitude… for the one who has saved you,” her voice is weak but holds its snark. “And who is he that throws around the word fool after nearly diving in the ocean swells?”

Sasuke’s face hovers above her own and their gazes lock. His hands continue their motions over her goose-pimpled skin almost absently as they stare into each other. 

“Your warmth has returned,” she murmurs. 

“It is a good thing,” he scoffs quietly, applying more weight to his fingers as he strokes over the muscles of her arms, over the knobbed joints of her wrists. “Had it not, you would have collapsed and frozen.”

“I did not collapse the entire trek here,” green pupils peer at him through the narrowed slits of her eyelids. 

“Another good thing,” he murmurs. “A thing I truly should show my gratitude for.”

“It is not necessary,” she breathes, flush returning to her cheeks. “Any other elf would have done the same.”

“Ah, kinder beings than mine,” he replies, voice low and rumbling. His skin burns hot, like a fever but not quite. “I shall thank you, nonetheless.” 

Fae were well-known for many things, but above all their thanks. Self-sufficient creatures they were, and so rarely did they need to express gratitude; they were those that gave favor, hardly did they ever receive. 

And so their thanks was a tangible thing, a gift bestowed only upon the special, the deeply appreciated.

“Are you familiar with the ways fae show gratitude?” he asks.

“I’ve heard tales,” she mumbles, staring as his face looms close.

Lips far softer than such a hard creature deserves brush lightly over her own. Pale pink lashes flutter as if taken by a breeze, and Sakura’s head lulls back against the flat and threadbare pillows. The rush of heat through her person causes deep pink to rise to the surface of her cheeks, for her pulse to quicken and her breaths to grow deep. No rejuvenating herb could have such an effect– she could have trekked down and up that hill again, three times, in this state.

“That was a fine thanks,” she huffs, sitting up slowly.

“Only the first one, for your company,” Sasuke says. “The second, for your labor.”

This time, his mouth presses firmly, his exhale seeping between the small space between her lips, sinking into the depths of her chest and warming it like a hearth. Large hands wrap around her waist, before one reaches to cup her cheek. 

“A third,” Sasuke’s voice is gruff, his eyes soft and burning red like a blood moon, “for my life. Because who knows if I would have let the tides sweep me away on this day.”

Sakura’s mouth is soft and plush, tasting both of tangy herbs and sweet fruit. Her hands are dainty–they creep slowly from his chest, to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck. When his tongue dips inside to slide against her own, the soft exhale she elicits is cool like a sip of water from the deepest of wells. 

They pull apart at the sound of clapping thunder, followed by the distinct patter of rain against waxy leaves.

“The floods,” she whispers. “They…are early.” 

“It is safe here,” Sasuke murmurs. His lids rest low over his irises, gaze fixated on the warm flush about her mouth. “We must only wait until the waters pass.”

“That might take weeks, Prince,” Sakura shakes her head, fear creeping about the edges of her green orbs, darkening their hue. “And to journey around the area to my home…to your home-”

“I suppose home for both of us is here, then,” he remarks. No fire had ever glowed so bright as the one in his chest. “Until it is safe for both of us to return from where we came.”

The air feels heavy with a sense of timid anticipation, a slight foreboding. The waters are routine, but also unpredictable. It is unlikely the tides would climb so far up, but how long would they stay high and cover the land below this hill? How long would Sakura be far from her village and its forests, Sasuke from his kin and their fires? 

“Sleep, small one,” Sasuke stands from the bed and sheds his long, inky-colored cloak. The fabric falls heavy and warm over Sakura’s waist. “I will ensure this place stays warm through the night.”

  ✣✣✣

Five days pass before the two reach a breaking point. The two stranger-companions attempt to make their shelter more hospitable. Sakura gathers the fabrics and washes them with water from an old well, refilled by her efforts to turn the soil deep below and reveal trickles of water from within. Sasuke sends gusts of hot air to force dust and debris out of the windows, through the open door. They stabilize the walls and ceiling, scrub at the dinghy floorboards and fuss at each other over temperature and ambience.

The towering, flame-eyed fairy would have them trapped in a dark, stifling heat day in and out. The petite elf prefers to leave the windows open to allow a whisper of cool breeze, to welcome the smells and sounds of nature in.

“You’ll freeze to your death if you do not draw these shutters,” Sasuke growls. His footfalls are heavy on purpose as he approaches where she stands, reaching around to tug the window shut.

Sakura hisses as he crowds her, her nose centimeters away from his chest, “Better than suffocating from heat and ash. Must you have a fire burning constantly ? We will run out of lumber soon enough.”

“Then you shall draw up more for us,” he says brusquely. The small creature before him vibrates, pointed ears burning red with frustration.

“ Oh , I do hope you are betrothed to an old, wrinkly hag,” she spits.

The scoff elicited in response is nasty at best.

“And who would be your betrothed? Some tiny little man with whiskers falling to his knees?” 

“Not all elves are small!”

“And yet, you are the smallest intelligent creature I have seen,” as if to emphasize his point, the prince bends slightly at the waist to peer into her face. “Were you not so loud, I might tread on you by mistake.”

“I am loud, but I wager that is better than having the character of a stone,” Sakura retorts. Her arms cross tight over her chest.

She had shed her heavy dressings for a thin tunic to combat the heat Sasuke caused in the small shelter. It exposed much of her flesh in an irritatingly appealing fashion.

“This stone keeps you from freezing solid in the night,” Sasuke is deadpan, and he mirrors her stature. 

“ Thank you, kind Prince,” she drawls with an eye roll so violent it is a wonder the green jewels do not fall from her head.

“If you intend to show your gratitude, at least do so properly,” Sasuke says. 

With his arms crossed tight over his chest, his shoulders look broader, the muscles of his biceps sinewy and defined. His hair is long enough to brush his collarbones, locks swept wild about his head and falling haphazardly over one side of his face. The room feels small with him drawn to his full height and Sakura hates that she can feel the heat of him from where she stands.

“If you desire me, simply say so, Prince,” she snaps. “All this talk of thanks and gratitude tires me.”

A single dark brow rises and his jaw clenches tight.

“I desire you.”

“Your games exhaust me, truly,” Sakura steps around his imposing form and makes her way to the sorry excuse for a bed. “I feel not one ounce of guilt for you sleeping on the floor each night. If I must suffocate from the heat–”

“Sakura,” her name is nearly foreign to her for how little she hears it from his lips. A shiver crawls down her spine despite the heat of his breath behind her neck. “ I desire you .”

“You have been cruel to me since we began to shelter here,” she whispers.

“Have I been cruel?” he murmurs and now his palm is resting on her shoulder, heat seeping deep into her muscle, licking over the surface of bone. “Or have I disagreed with you on occasion?”

“Those things are one in the same,” she says, voice weak. His fingers are long enough to sweep over the flesh just below her collarbones, the heat of his body stifling as he draws closer.

“You have been the cruelest,” he breathes, grip tightening as his head lowers to level his mouth with her ear. “You lie inches away from me in the night, but do not allow me to share with you my own warmth. You shed layers of dress, but hide the best of you underneath such frustrating fabrics. Teasing, and taunting you are, but…”

Sakura’s mouth is dry, her voice hardly a rasp, “But?”

“But you do not want as I do,” he says tightly. “You do not suffer through a one-sided attraction. I am but a stranger taking up your space.”

“You speak so lowly of yourself, my Prince,” she mutters. “Perhaps a tonic for your mood.”

“Joke how you like,” he hisses and a shudder works through her at the way his chest vibrates against her back. “I will desire you no less, even as you annoy me so.” 

Sakura can finally feel the chill of the night air as the prince rips away and stalks over to the old fireplace. She hears the deep exhalation and then the crackling and popping of embers. The fire roars to life, sending flickering shadows and licking silhouettes across the walls, but she still feels cold, freezing.

Sasuke lingers close to the hearth, unflinching as tiny sparks sprinkle across the skin of his feet and arms. A cool pressure at the center of his back pulls his attention away from the dancing flames.

“You have kept me warm each night,” Sakura says, so quiet it is as if he feels her voice rather than hears it. “And I should thank you for it.”

He turns, a scowl curling his features but is given pause by the shining of green that faces him. The shape of the flames dance across jade irises, cast shadows over high-set, freckled cheeks and plump, blossom-pink lips.

She beckons him and he bends so she can grasp his face, pressing her mouth to his. And he is lost, falling into her embrace as if he did not better her in size and stature. They sink to the floor, resting on their knees as small hands scrape through his locks and against his scalp, and strong, hot hands grip at her slender waist and full hip. Steam billows thinly between their mouths as their lips and tongues dance together, pulling and pushing, taking and giving in. 

Sakura’s posture crumples slightly as her muscles tremble. Sasuke tightens his grip and guides her slowly to rest back on the floor, cushioning her head with one palm and cradling her back with the other. 

Her fingers knot near-painfully in his hair and a small whimper spills from her mouth when he nips at her lower lip in response. He soothes the sting with a sweep of his burning tongue and then sucks it into his mouth with a deep groan.

“I could kiss you from sunrise till dawn,” he whispers, running his lips over her jaw, kissing at her ear before flicking his tongue at the pointed tip. 

“Aren’t those the same, Prince?” she laughs. Her mirth turns into a shuddering gasp when he sucks at her earlobe before kissing wetly down her neck..

“The entirety of the day is what I mean, elf–from one sunrise to the next,” he chuckles. “And call me by my name, Sakura.”

“Sasuke,” she breathes.

“ Yes .” 

His mouth covers her once more, pulling another whimper from her throat. His hand slips around her waist and slides slowly until he is palming her breast, kneading the flesh with a dizzying combination of heat and firm pressure.

“I wish to see you,” he rasps.  

Sakura frees his hair from her grasp to tug at her gown with clumsy fingers. A shuddering breath expands his chest when her breasts are exposed to his gaze. He pulls back slowly, enough to kneel between her thighs and shrug out of his own tunic, before tugging her skirts away from her legs.

A deep flush rises from the top of her chest to her hairline when Sasuke grasps her knees and pushes them wide to stare down at her center. Her crevices are slick and plump with desire already. 

“Bless the waters,” he chokes before lowering himself so his face is level with her stomach. He presses a deep, fervent kiss to her belly button before trailing his mouth lower, and lower still. “Bless them, for bringing you to me.”

“Pray they don’t rise high enough to submerge us now,” Sakura replies tremulously. The stroke of a wet, flexible appendage between her folds sends her squirming.

“There is no better place to drown than between your thighs,” he groans before kissing her intimately, his tongue lapping at her wetness and lips teasing the pearled nub at the peak of her mound. 

A strangled moan spills from her lips before she catches them between her teeth, thighs trembling and flexing as she tilts her hips away from the hungry mouth, and rolls them back toward him incrementally. 

“Be still,” he orders, voice thick and slightly muffled. A particularly invasive lick that takes his tongue from her clitoris all the way to her entrance and inside sends her bucking against him with a gasp.

The gasp turns into a sharp cry when the fingers gripping at her hip become unbearably hot for a fraction of a moment. Sakura is left reeling and panting at the residual sting as she stares down at the burning red eyes peering at her from between her legs.

“Still,” he repeats, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he treats her to another long, lascivious lick.

Any refute she has is swept away as the fairy feasting on her flesh doubles his efforts, sucking and laving at her with sinful abandon. One of his hands creeps down, a long finger pressing deep into her core, followed by a second before she can even wrap her head around the sensation.

His head pulls away ever so slightly as he thrusts the appendages into her at a building pace. A keening moan spears through the quiet and her hands fall to his head, pulling him closer.

“Wh-what manner of thanks is this, my prince?” she pants, words hitching with every stroke of his hand.

“The most pure form of gratitude,” he says, pinning her with his heavy gaze. His fingers curl on an outward stroke and her hips buck in his grip, rising just in time to meet his seeking mouth as he sucks at her again.

Climax rushes through her in an instant, and Sasuke seems to burn hotter for it. The heat is emanating off of his skin in waves, combating even the fire burning just alongside of them. Sweat slickens her flesh, trickling between her breasts and he catches it with his tongue as he crawls back up her body.

A tortured groan rips through his chest at the press of her cool hands to his bare abdomen. His trousers are kicked away in a rush, but he reaches for her slowly, drawing her shivering and glistening body to his chest as he rolls to his side. Small, slender fingers creep downward and brush lightly over the dampened tip of him before he grasps her wrist and loops it behind his neck. Brushing reverent fingertips over the smooth, silky skin of her calf, he grasps at her leg and notches it over his, aligning their hips and capturing her mouth with his in a searing kiss.

Rigid flesh sweeps over her soaked folds and they both moan deeply. One large hand spreads wide at the center of her back as the other grasps at her hip tightly, rocking her lower body such that Sasuke’s arousal slips against her, the head of him bumping against her pearl.

“I have desired you since the moment I first saw you, my prince,” Sakura breathes against his mouth, cupping the back of his neck with her hand and brushing the knuckles of the other against his flushed cheek. “My Sasuke.”

He smothers her with a kiss and a breathless moan she can feel , just as she can feel how he shifts their hips and lowers her slowly over his shaft. The muscles of her inner thighs tremble as her inner walls spread to accommodate his flesh. It feels like an eternity passes before her buttock meets the firm muscle of his thigh and they exhale deeply as one.

Sasuke gives her no chance to inhale before he is thrusting in and out of her, bottoming out deep inside with each sway of his hips. She is wrapped tight around him, sliding slick and heady and he feels as if his chest will burst, as if even he cannot tame his own flames as they roar in his chest, lick hot through every inch of his flesh and through his flexing muscles. 

But then she is there, all cool, soft skin and refreshing breaths, cooling the simmering in his lungs and pulling him tight into her arms, between her legs. He sinks into her depths until he can drown himself no further, pulling back only to plunge in again. He rips his mouth away from hers to take the fleshy part of her shoulder between his teeth, panting steam from his nostrils and clutching at her with feverish palms. 

Sakura clings to him as he pushes and pulls at her, knocking into her so forcefully her breath is taken and returned with each forward sway. When he begins chanting her name into the cradle of her neck, she digs her nails into his nape, anchoring herself as she tilts her hips against his onslaught, mimicking the passion of his movement to the best of her ability. 

A slight adjustment of his flexing hand sends him careening against a spot deep inside that sets her mind reeling. Sharp pants and rough groans spill from his lips and she cries out, clutching at him as her body draws tight like a thread, a feeling like reaching a tipping point rising inside of her. 

The thread breaks, the world falls away and she is floating, no, she is pinned to the earth, sinking into the soil and being wrapped up and pulled apart by deep-reaching roots, stretching her body to its limit until she finally snaps in a burst and a shrill cry.

Sasuke shudders violently against her and she is only just coming back to the present when she finds herself slammed onto her back, caged by his arms around her head as he drives into her, pistoning in and out faster than her body can keep up with as she weathers the aftershocks of her climax.

Green eyes stare upward, nearly cloudy with bliss and awe, locking onto his and Sasuke is burning, caught in the central blue flame of a supernova, melting into her so deep it would take an eternity to remove his remnants.

“Sakura,” he gasps once the breath comes back into his lungs. Her arms wrap tight around his shoulders and he buries his face into her chest.

They are lulled to sleep by the crackling sounds of the dying flame and the slowing of their own heavy breaths.

✣✣✣

Shallow puddles pepper the grassland, muddy divots already springing forth new plantlife. The tide is gentle against the coast, golden sand glittering under the increasing sunlight. A cool breeze tickles against their napes, blowing pink and raven strands into slight disarray.

“There are many small elven communities in the kingdom,” Sasuke says in a low voice, nearly overtaken by the whistling wind. 

His face is drawn tight, reminiscent of how it was when they first happened upon each other. Features pinched and brows furrowed like the day he stood with toes dipping into the swells, his flames sputtering out in the sunlight.

A small hand reaches up, up until he is forced to bend. Just long enough for her to brush the pads of small fingertips over his jaw, bringing to life the softer expression she became so well acquainted with through many waning days and vibrant nights.

“I am needed,” Sakura replies with a tiny smile. “At least for a long while. No one else has the mastery over healing and medicine as I do. But…I will return here before the next flood season to gather my herbs.”

Her smile remains steady, even as the slightest tremble creeps about her words. Sand crunches lightly as the tall, lithe creature takes a step forward. 

“It is my earnest hope that one day we shall be able to lie in each other's arms every sunset, every dawn” Sasuke murmurs, pressing too-warm fingers against his lover’s cool cheek. 

A deep breath expands his chest, puffs hot over Sakura’s face. The edge of his lips tilts in a tiny smile and he moves his hand to prod the center of her forehead, a feather light tap.

“Until then, we await the floods.”

End.

Taglist: @zenonico @ephemeredoll @pomeyasha @psalloacappella

[ocofsnakeyreferencesheets]

MASTER POST

(Will be update in future)

KINGDOM

°SPIRITUAL KINGDOM

Drage

Usky

Rei

Kristoph

Dahlia

Axe

Lana

Mia

Nuru

Tod

Daniel

Espino

Hue

Nalley

Lili

Maple

Quetzalcoatl

Tezcat

°MONARCHY KINGDOM

Diana

Harry

°DEMOCRATIC KINGDOM

Zeus

Temis

Hera

Ares

Eris

°HIERARCHY KINGDOM

Lie

Sikel

Duke

°CHINESE KINGDOM

Huanglong

Panlong

DARK TAMERS

°TAMERS

Mai Hayashi

Shan Ursun

David McBrave

Marina

Alba

Angela McBrave

Cani McBrave

Kyomi Igarashi

Suraka Igarashi

Grizz Ursun

Luna Bear

Artemisa

Camilo

Spirit

°DIGIMON

Flower

Koda

Luci

Arrow

Fang

Ambar

Calisto

Caramel

Fen

Karasu

Kinoko

Nemea

Paria

Lady

THE RISING ELEMENTS

°STORMCLAN

Duskstar

Leafstar

Dawnpelt

Stoatfang

Pinefall

Whitecloud

Appleclaw

Grasspool

Pinenose

Maplespots

Shinestone

Badgerstripe

Boarclaw

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Cavetooth

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Sweetclaw

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Snowflower

Bravepelt

Mistystep

Petalpool

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Cherryclaw

Blackhair

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Rowanscar

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Fishpaw

Owlpaw

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Redpaw

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Asheyes

Mothclaw

Jaypool

Sweetbell

Lightkid

Ivykid

Skykid

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Jaggedrunner

Redpool

Onetree

Embertail

Larchcloud

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Elmleaf

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°SUNCLAN

Adderstar

Clawstar

Azurehair

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Birdnest

Infernoscar

Briarpaw

Bugpaw

Cinderflame

Coconuthair

Cowspots

Cricketjump

Dandelionstripe

Deerhooves

Desertflower

Dognose

Doveeyes

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Ducktail

Earthface

Echonight

Eclipsepelt

Fallowhorn

Lampkid

Foxlaugh

Frogfoot

Hollyberry

Indigoclaw

Ironclaw

Junipersprout

Lavanderbreeze

Lilypaw

Lostflame

Lotussong

Nectarsong

Nightstream

Orangekid

Patchdawn

Peachheart

Pearlswirl

Pigflame

Roostersong

Rosekid

Rubypaw

Shadowheart

Sheepsong

Shellscho

Shinyflower

Snakefang

Softnose

Solarligth

Speckleface

Swiftpaw

Tansytail

Tigerstripe

Torndust

Turkeywing

Twigkid

Vinethorn

Windleaf

Yellowpelt

°MOUNTAINCLAN

Hopestar

Newstar

Aspenspots

Antcave

Bambuclaw

Blindwind

Branblestone

Breezeright

Bushpaw

Canarysong

Castlerock

Chervilleaf

Coalcave

Cobratail

Cottonrat

Dahliaheart

Daisykid

Doestripe

Dreamsong

Eggpad

Emukid

Firestep

Frozenbrook

Ghostmelody

Goattail

Goldenpaw

Gorsepaw

Hawkeye

Halfface

Houndfire

Ivoryrock

Lakepaw

Lemonflower

Liongem

Littlespark

Lynxspots

Milkshake

Mousewhisker

Mushroom

Oleanderpetal

Oliveclaw

Opalgem

Orchidflight

Otterkid

Peacockeye

Pikepool

Plummoon

Purplegem

Quietvoice

Rabbittail

Robinmask

Rubblekid

Rustyeye

Sandpaw

Shortflame

Skipperclaw

Smallwish

Sneezenose

Sparrowkid

Tanglehair

Tapirspots

Topazshine

Vixenheart

Volcanofire

Winterdance

Zirconfire

°RAINCLAN

Shystar

Moonshine

Articfox

Babulfoot

Mintstripe

Pumpkinleaf

Aquapearl

Batclaw

Bearpaw

Blizzardpelt

Brighthope

Brindlethroat

Brokenfang

Brookwater

Brownwing

Carnationbreeze

Cedarnigth

Chanterellegem

Cloudedsky

Crabpaw

Deadwatcher

Driftpaw

Dustfeather

Eagleclaw

Fastthunder

Fawnkid

Featherkid

Forestshadow

Gingerkid

Greenfish

Jadeheart

Greycloud

Hazelpaw

Hollowhope

Honeybird

Irisnose

Jaguarmask

Laburnumbhair

Lizardflower

Magentaeyes

Melonseed

Morningligth

Muddyeyes

Naturalriver

Platypusclaw

Poplarbug

Poppynose

Quickwing

Racconmask

Russetpaw

Rusthair

Silentvoice

Slowstep

Snailshell

Sorrelpelt

Spiderweb

Spottedpelt

Sproutfur

Tawnykid

Thistleheart

Timberkid

Toucanmask

Tulipsong

Tundrapaw

Violetsong

Waterfall

Wetflower

Wildpebble

Wolftooth

°LIGTHCLAN

Woodstar

Autumnleaf

Puppyheart

Riversong

Bigstep

Bloodmoon

Bouncetail

Cattail

Chamaleoneyes

Cheetahkid

Chestnutpaw

Coldrock

Dragonfly

Ebonyclaw

Eelglow

Emeraldstripe

Eveningrain

Flamefall

Freesiaclaw

Harespots

Inkkid

Lemurtail

Marigoldflower

Monkeytail

Mottledpelt

Nettlekid

Oakpaw

Oceansong

Pandapelt

Parrottalk

Pebbleears

Peckerpaw

Phoenixtail

Pricklesea

Scarletkid

Seahorse

Sharkkid

Squidpaw

Stonepaw

Strawberry

Sunnybird

Swanpeck

Teakclaw

Teddybeard

Wrenheart

°CITY HUMANS

Coral

Axel

Elizabeth

June

Aurora

Liam

°DIE BEFORE THE RISING ELEMENTS

Dragonclaw

Flowerstar

Martenrunner

Mountainstar

Nigthkid

Oakstar

Eaglestar

Poppystar

Rainstar

Ligthstar

Stormstar

Sunstar

THE ANCIENT CITY

Agustinia

Amanda

Anand

Apollo

Artemis

Athena

Aurora

Avie

Barry

Bismuth

Blanka

Blossom

Blue

Cake

Celestia

Cinnamon

Clover

Coco

Cocoa

Eric

Francis

Hades

Haily

Hazel

Herbert

Iris

Jack

Jade

Jam

Jay

Jones

Katherine

Lilah

Lucas

Marigold

Matt

Maya

Mimi

Muffin

Opal

Orchid

Oscar

Pancakes

Pearl

Poppy

Puma

Pumpkin

Raven

Ruby

Russet

Rusty

Snow

Spinel

Steven

Strawberry

Summer

Tail

Talia

Valentina

Vincent

Yang

Yellow

Zest

[silentvoicescryingout]

A dear friend of mine suggested this word as a title for this fic and I still can’t get over how perfect it ended up being.

Ikigai {japanese}

A reason for being, the reason for getting up in the morning.

[lindastojak]

This has always been one of my favorite paintings. Happy to see it hung in the perfect spot 🖼 . . . . . #lindastojak #art #fineart #oilpainting #portrait #visage #layers #woman #femalefigure #femaleform #gestural #installation #paintingwomen #twofigures #figurepaiting #silentvoices Image: Linda Stojak Untitled (Two Figures), 2012, Oil on canvas, 60h x 60w inches https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch-jOBTut8D/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[wearefuturefemale-blog]

Have you heard about our #silentvoices platform. Do you want your voice to be heard? You can do it anonymously! . We’d love to hear your story, gender equality, diversity and inclusivity are high on our agenda. We’ve created a safe space for your voice to be heard with unconditional support. . Either DM us here and we will keep your details private. Or go to our tumblr blog and send us an Anonymous ‘ASK’ at Wearefuturefemale.tumblr.com/ask or click on #silentvoices. We will keep you anonymous by default. . Its your choice of how you want your story told, either from the DM to instagram post or via Tumblr and our Future Female blog link above. Let’s come together to create a safe space for women and girls. Scroll 👉👉 to look at our tumblr ‘ASK’ box. We are looking forward to your responses! . . #silentvoices #wearefuturefemale #anonymous #wearelistening #safespace #unconditional #yourvoicematters

[theafroglow]

excerpts introducing each section of Woodward Academy’s award-winning “Silent Voices” student literary magazine: 

Foreword

en·dan·gered spe·cies

noun

a species of animal or plant that is seriously at risk of extinction.

16,306 species are listed by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature as endangered. Each species becomes endangered in different ways – loss of habitat, overhunting, disease, climate change – but a common thread throughout each endangerment is human interaction and influence. Still, we could not be less concerned.

We think we are above it all. That, as humans, we are so intellectually superior that we are untouchable, immortal, and immune from the the disease spread by our touch. When in reality, we too must be infected to infect others.

We have caused almost as much ruin to ourselves and the most precious and malleable of our kind, our youth, as we have to the species we have threatened or wiped out. As humans, we have constructed a society that has endangered the American Teen, killing our youth’s confidence, sense of self, passion, and will to carry on, expecting so little, yet so much. But as teens, we may not even know we are on the edge of losing ourselves, impacted by everything, noticing nothing.

In this edition, we raise awareness about the American Teen, an endangered species on the brink of obsolescence, caged and held captive by societal expectations and limitations. Disconnected from what truly makes us teenagers: the wonder of life, finding ourselves on our terms, leaving our hearts to people and places for the first time, dreaming we can make a difference in the world, and genuinely believing we can realize those dreams. At the beginning of our path towards fulfillment, society stops us in our tracks by determining our intellect with standardized tests, calculating our self worth by the number of likes we get on Instagram, stripping away creativity and abstract thinking for regurgitation of information, and creating unrealistic, heavily photoshopped perceptions of the perfect human to compare us to.

Our leaders talk about progress and pushing towards the future, but with a species so stunted in its growth, on the edge of desolation, we can never be allowed to evolve any further. Through six chapters, we discover the factors of the American Teen that are endangered by modern society and their level of endangerment in hopes that you can help us change the outcome. The survival of our youth and the future of the human race depends on it. We are worth saving.

Chapter 1: Artistry (Vulnerable)

While the craft employs technique and talent, artistry in its purest form is a practice that does not demand perfect formulas or equations, but an untamed urge to create for the sake of expression. Artists express themselves by hurling the words they cannot say, the pain they long to forget but cannot shake, and the feelings they cannot communicate onto a canvas. But the viewers of the art tap into their own deep-seated emotions to empathize with each piece, interpreting it as if it were made for them, by them.

Now, everything is calculated. Anything not related to STEM is now considered useless by many in the federal government who propose legislation to cut funding for the arts in public schools and eliminate the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities. Right now, teen artists are being told to take a seat at the kitchen table, drop their paintbrushes and charcoal, get serious, and look at the “big picture:” higher paying technical jobs are the only careers that will prevent them from falling into the black hole of poverty, a darkness people are easily sucked into, but almost never escape. Nothing but technology and innovation will propel the United States forward in the global market and the human race into the future.

But what future, what world, does any teenager want to live in without music or movies? Without the secret, sappy love poems written at night when you’re smiling so hard you just can’t fall asleep? Without your favorite beaten-up, dog-eared books that you take off the shelf shelf from time to time to look at teardrop stains blurring certain words and reminisce on how you felt when you first read it? We’d rather go extinct and have power-hungry corporate robots assume our place, which will eventually happen if we continue on the path we are now.

In this section, we explore what art should be – the untainted beauty and effusion of the artist – what it shouldn’t – a definite shape with a specific form molded and cropped by society – and the inevitable loss of art as the world continues to prioritize robotization and perfection over creativity and beautiful mistakes.

Chapter 2: Health (Near Threatened)

Our bodies are vessels, vehicles we maneuver throughout our lives to get from one place to another. Sitting in the driver’s seat, some of us are able to travel safely and quickly with ease, one hand on the steering wheel, the other searching for lipgloss in the glove compartment. Some of us don’t have to focus. Some of us don’t have to try. Some of us know they will get where they’re supposed to go.

For the rest of us, our vehicles work a bit differently, but no mechanic seems to know exactly why or how to fix them. Some days we are able to drive around just fine, our mental and physical health not affecting our daily lives. Some days we relapse and are caught in a tailspin, leaving a wreckage of cars behind us which honk and holler, but we have no control. Some days we drive through the endless pitch black tunnel that is our minds, with little to no light up ahead.

Yet, our GPS still tells us to keep driving as normal. To exhaust our engines trying to get to a light that seems miles down the road. They throw doctors, psychiatrists and piles of pills our way to keep our engines going for a little while, but we don’t even feel like we’re moving anymore. We stay in neutral, unable to feel anything good or bad, helplessly pounding on the accelerator but getting nowhere. More than anything, we wish to get out of the car and take a real step forward in our mental and physical health, realizing that the industry charged with tuning up our bodies focuses on treatments that improve their fiscal bottom line. Never on a cure that will fix our maladies permanently.

In this section, we discover how our bodies, the carriers that harbor our most precious cargo -- our hearts, minds and souls --  are not our own. They are affected both internally, by predetermined condition, and externally, by those who wish to take advantage of us.

Chapter 3: Home (Threatened)

A home is a habitat for the human. Since the origination of our species, we have found the basic needs from Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs -- food, water, warmth, rest, and shelter -- within our homes. Without these baseline needs, we we wouldn’t be able to strive for love, belongingness, esteem, or self-actualization, most of which many homes also provide or contribute to.

Our homes are meant to provide a sense of security, as we enter the front door and slam the cruelties and judgements of the world out, then proceed to kick off our shoes and follow the engrossing smell of our mother’s homemade soup to the kitchen table. A sense of identity, as we explore the history, hardships, and traits of our people, who once inhabited our homes or homelands. A sense of love, as we nestle into the couch alongside a loved one and sit there together, exchanging energy, wisdom, secret family recipes, the worst and best parts of ourselves that we wouldn’t dare share with anyone who wasn’t forced to love us by the bond of blood.

But now we have compounded and confined this gargantuan, amorphous interpretation of home into four expensive glass walls, shiny, bright, and easily shattered, broken by actions beyond our control: separation, greed, divorce, and death. Someone always moves forward while another gets left behind, perhaps at the expense of the other, yet home is supposed to be the place that binds us all.

In this section, we see just how easy our homes, the brick walls sealed with mortar that we believed would withstand any storm, can fall to pieces with one slight blow.

Chapter 4: Relationships (Endangered)

Love has never been an easy thing. There’s always been awkward hand holding in the tub of movie theatre popcorn, writing “Do you like me? Yes or No” on a sheet of paper and sliding it to your crush across the classroom, and praying to God that you won’t trip over your words when you meet his or her parents for the first time. But it certainly was easier before the internet and social media came into play. Now we are in relationships with our phones, attempting to communicate messy, fuzzy feelings through a piece of cold, hard metal and black glass. We’ve taken “playing games” to the next level, constructing an algorithm of the appropriate amount of time to respond to a text or Snapchat for optimal interest: open the message at exactly double the amount of time it took the other person to open the message, and respond in at least double the amount of time it took the other to respond. You can’t use too many bitmojis or emojis to carry on the conversation, but you also can’t nix them completely, because then you’ll seem like you don’t have a personality or sense of humor.

On our social media accounts, we brand ourselves as completely different people. With the right lighting, camera quality, punny caption, and clothes showing off a Kylie Jenner-approved amount of skin, we display the most beautiful, likeable, funny, sexy, and witty versions of ourselves. We put on that same surface level front in our relationships, calculating every joke and flirtatious jab we make at the other to match the images we’ve constructed. It’s hard to make a real connection or find “the one” when we don’t even truly know the person we are posting mushy couple photos with. When we do finally lay rest to our guises and allow ourselves to be authentic and vulnerable with people, that’s a huge deal.

It’s scary and amazing to be human with another human. To tell them your deepest fears and share your worst memories. To show them your weird quirks and stay up all night on FaceTime looking at each other and marveling at the other’s smile, saying you’re going to go to bed in five minutes every 15 minutes. To tell them the truth about who you are, what you believe, where you’ve been, and where you want to go. To hear them say they’ll join you on your journey to that place.

But that feeling either fades elegantly or is severed violently and unexpectedly. Both hurt. Both make you feel like you made a mistake by dropping the facade. Both make you feel worthless. Both make you attempt to become the person you think the other would want, somehow thinking that it isn’t too late to at least make them regret it. Both make you wonder what you could have done differently. Both make you cling to the future, the only place where you can rebuild your image.

But that means it wasn’t love, because if you loved that person, you wouldn’t be able to mend your broken heart by retreating back to social media for validation, posting a #PostBreakup selfie and then methodically scrolling through every like and reassuring comment. Real love is gone. Real human connection is few and far between.

In this section, we see the highs and lows of relationships and how we deal with those in comparison to past generations.

Chapter 5: Identity (Critically Endangered)

Confined to a cubicle hedged with two-way mirrors like the ones you’d find in a police station’s interrogation room, we sit and stare at ourselves, unaware of the crowd lining up on the other side to behold and take pictures with the rare beast. A creature coined as both weak and dangerous. Both ugly and exotic. Both useless and entitled.

We grow up in captivity being told we are in control of our mind, thoughts, and opinions. That we are the masters of our fates and shape our our own identities. But in reality, we are products of our environment, which requires each one of us to strive for a specific hair texture. A specific gender role. A specific balance between prude and slut. A specific skin color. A specific sexual orientation. A specific religion. A specific norm that society is familiar with and understands so they’re not afraid of it.

We do tricks and perform for an audience we cannot even see -- that does not know us, understand us, or relate to who we are or what we can become -- to be rewarded with a scratch behind the ear, a new toy, or food to keep us quiet. We shape shift and contort ourselves, ripping out wads of hair, scratching away skin cells, removing our religious garb, or covering our distracting shoulders to fit into narrow crates they can seal, label, rate, and determine if we’re worth keeping, killing, or shipping off to the next zoo.

We pay attention to their judgements. We listen. We jump for joy at their validation and sadly accept and apply their criticisms. They give us ideals to reach for, standards to aspire to, but constantly remind us we are nothing less or more than everything they say we are, and we’re okay with that. In this section, we explore how our harsh, judgmental society impacts our sense of self.

Chapter 6: Hope (Extinct)

Hope is believing in the endless possibilities and continuation of life and evolution. Hope is believing things will be different. That we can constantly die and be reborn again as people slightly better than we were yesterday. When we didn’t have anything, we had Hope, but society has abused our Hope to the point where we don’t even recognize its face anymore.

We search for it in a crowd, but we can’t seem to find it. We only see endless streaming videos of police brutality and bloodshed. We see corrupt government leaders suggesting paths that do not reflect the better nature of men. We see people who are supposed to be role models relishing in the destruction of our planet, and people in the pursuit of power above all else. We see the good guy, capable of making significant positive change in the world, silenced and pushed to the side. We see our parents crumble before us, admitting they don’t have all the answers, who cry at night when they think about the uncertainty of our futures.

Hope says, “Enough is enough,” but feels like an unwanted guest at a dinner party. Hope doesn’t make a scene, doesn’t say goodbye. Hope just exits. Goes home, takes a cold shower, gets into bed, and fades away as fast as it falls asleep.

In the morning, we feel the shift. We feel the loss. But we can’t ever put a name to it. Hope is eradicated from our vocabularies. We stop looking for it in the crowd, because we are convinced it never existed to begin with.

This is the greatest endangerment to the American teenager, who was built upon hope. In this section, we attempt to repopulate Hope by recognizing that we lack it and realizing we must become it.

Conclusion

When beings from other nations or planets look at the remains of the long extinct American Teen, we don’t want them to say we sat and watched as our fellow man wiped us out. We don’t want them to say we didn’t care. About authenticity, ambition, growing into the most awkward parts of our bodies and emotions, making mistakes and learning from them, falling in and out of love, blaring music in the car on the highway, putting ourselves down and picking ourselves back up time and time again. About what it means to be a teenager. Because we care. We care enough to write these words for you in hope that you’ll understand. That you’ll become aware that we are an endangered species, becoming increasingly rare everyday with every part of ourselves that is manipulated by society. That you’ll have the courage to make a change before it’s too late.