#akimi.writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sufferthesea · 4 years

Note

Omg LOTR. Will you do a fic where Celeborn and Galadriel first meet and both are nervous to admit that they have feelings for one another, especially Celeborn because Galadriel is pretty much higher ranking??

Whoo boy, did this give me a mental and creative workout. I spent way too much time researching the history of the Elves and the timelines, but I hope you like it! I’ve always loved Galadriel so it was fun writing for her! Thank you so much for the request!

Sunlight (Galadriel x Celeborn)

In the sunlight, her hair glowed like the golden leaves of the mallorn trees and her voice was like the deep, steady creaking of the trunks. Her eyes violently pierced right through him, right to his very core, and he was stunned at how a simple look had managed to draw the very breath from his lungs. Her skin was smooth and pale like a stone polished by the river’s current; cheekbones as high and sharp as the walls of Minas Tirith which had barely finished being erected. She looked everything befitting her status and Celeborn found himself trembling in her presence. He wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or respect or something else. Another look from her icy eyes, the tiniest pull of her lips into a not-quite smile, made the skin over his body feel like it had been plunged into the deepest parts of the river Sirion and then thrust into the midst of a great fire. If he had been asked to speak, he did not know what he would say. His voice had left him, like the last hollow wind whipping leaves off the trees and disappearing without warning.

He knew it was a fool’s idea, that he had no right to even think such things, but the way her eyes held his for a moment longer than was custom, or the way that her lips still held that glimmer of a smile when she turned away and walked off with other kinsmen of Menegroth. It felt like she could read his every thought, feel his every emotion, and she knew — she already knew what he was feeling and thinking and she still held that smile for him.

It was a young Elf’s dream but he could not help but hope for it all the same. An entire lifetime, thousands of years in the eyes of the Afterborn, spent with her; even to the end of an age, where his spirit was entwined with hers in the Halls of Mandos until the world came to an end. All of it, he could see in just the fleeting moment of their eyes meeting and her turning away with the resoluteness of the mallorn trees she so resembled.

If he had been anyone else — someone higher ranking, someone stately, someone worth speaking about and worth speaking to, or maybe even someone so young and foolish who had not yet learned their place — he could have spoken to her. He could have held her gaze, retrieved the breath she had stolen from him, and said something. He could have caught her attention, made his presence something worthy of her attention; but he had not. He could not. His hands, his legs, his very core, they still trembled when he watched her leave. The trembling did not cease, and when he saw her in the evening, it seemed to grow worse.

Her golden hair had turned silver in the evening light, her gown an ice-white river of fabric, her eyes glowing like Ithil which hung over their heads in the night sky. That same breath she had stolen that morning had not yet returned to him, and he felt like an empty basket bobbing down the Sirion, helpless in the torrent. Celeborn did not think that he could have found her more beautiful, more frightening, more powerful than that morning in the sunlight. Yet she seemed to command the evening just as well, perhaps even more so. Her features were sharp and white, even more like Minas Tirith in their dazzling shell-white splendor. Her eyes seemed to turn dark in an unexpectedly wonderful way when they landed on him, and there — upon her thin, pale lips — was the same, guarded smile.

He understood now why she was called Lady of Light. There had never been one before, and he knew there would never be one after, who could radiate all the beauty of the worlds so effortlessly. She was imposing and inviting at the same time and it confused him. He did not know whether to bow his head and retreat from the conversations, or stand his ground and return that same penetrating gaze and smile.

Alatáriel, was what came into his mind, like a whisper breathed in the early morning before the sun rose. It was shameful and exciting to have already chosen a name for her. He knew he would never get a chance to use that name, sing it against her head of golden hair, or press into the pale coolness of her skin with his lips, but still it remained at the front of his mind. Even if she exceeded him in rank and status, and had a proper name to be addressed by, his mind was always reciting the name he had given her. It was his own bit of bravery, since he knew he would never be able to utter a single syllable in the presence of the Lady.

****

When Galadriel, who in those days had only been called Artanis or Nerwen, first laid her eyes on Celeborn, kinsman to King Thingol, brother of her mother’s father, she did not expect the feeling that washed over her body. His eyes were warmer than any other’s she had ever met in her lifetime, his features were serious but kind, and he seemed to lean into her even when she was not speaking. There was something strange about him, something that did not quite match the royal rigidness of Thingol and his other kinsmen, nor his court.

It felt like a bird had nestled itself in her stomach, stretching its wings to brush against her heart. It was curious, the way her feelings had shifted so suddenly in the presence of this Elf. Before she could even think of turning away from him, he raised his gaze to hers and held her eyes. A strange warmth spread through her chest and up her throat. It felt impossible to tear her eyes from his and she found herself smiling at him. She did not know how he had managed to make her smile, with just a simple look, with his own serious expression, his unbending posture.

She wondered just what thought was going through his mind; surely something noteworthy and only resigned for the most important people in the court. He said nothing the entire time yet she, for some reason, desired him to speak. She wanted to hear his voice, see how it lilted with a question or lowered with a trusted secret, vibrated with the odd syllables of Sindarin, so unlike her own language of Quenya. She wanted to know what great speeches he held just behind his thin lips, what sounds would roll off his tongue if they spoke together in solitude. It almost brought some sort of childhood rosiness to her cheeks and she felt like wrapping her shawls around her face to hide away from Celeborn’s intense gaze. Yet she longed to be under it, to be the only thing he saw, to be the one he spoke to in that deep tone, with unfamiliar words of a foreign language, her ears full of his voice and his laughter and the light of his eyes shining down over her.

Her own voice held a sort of tremble, a nervousness she had never felt in her life before. All she could do was tear her eyes and mind from the Elf standing in front of her, instead addressing the rest of the Elves in their presence. No one who did not know her would not notice; her mother and father would. They would hear a pause of hesitation, a swallow of nerves, a stop mid-sentence at the feeling of warm eyes on her cheek. She wondered if her language sounded just as strange and awkward to Celeborn and his did to her; or if he found its melodic notes pleasing and lyrical.

Only a moment in his presence and she was already longing for his approval. It was strange and she did not know how she felt about it. At the end of the meeting, she could not help but throw another look at him and was not surprised to see that he was still staring at her, face still stony. Another smile tugged at her lips and she did not stop it from forming, her eyes trained on his as she turned away.

She did not know when she would see him again, or how she would feel upon a second meeting, but she kept the warmth of her heart close and thought on how it made her feel all that day and into the night. There was no telling what her mother or father would think, what Thingol would say, or even what Celeborn himself thought, but it did not matter. As Ithil rose in the night sky, scattering its cold light across the grounds, Galadriel found herself wandering out through the trees and into a clearing where, on the other side, stood a shadow. It was the Elf who had occupied her thoughts so fully, and who she had wished to see again even before the next day started. It was like he had called to her in the darkness of the night and her heart had heard it, beckoning her outside and to where he stood. His silver hair looked as brilliant as the decorations on her dress, and his eyes reflected the loving light of Ithil above.

Neither of them spoke, but it was not needed. She could feel that same bird nestling in his stomach, brushing his heart. He felt the same way as her. She knew that when the morning arrived, they would have to tell the others — mothers and fathers and the king and queen and their kinsmen — but in this moment, in this night, it was only them and it was all that mattered.

Celeborn with his sapling-thin lips parting in a smile to whisper above the night’s breeze, “I knew it would be you, Alatáriel.”

She had never liked the sound of a name so much and she decided, right then under the watchful eye of the moon and the pleasant smile of Celeborn, it was the only name she would ever want to go by from then on.

#lord of the rings #galadriel #celeborn #galadriel x celeborn #akimi.writes #ask #answered #request #askmenomore #lotr #that's an otp right there #pardon any spelling errors

32 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 4 years

Note

First off thank you SO SO SO much once again for Danny! 🙊🙏 I genuinely had the biggest smile on my face reading your headcanons for him! I would like to request for my #1 BAE though, please! I would certainly like some sweet, adorable headcanons for Nolan Sorrento (It doesn't have to be Birthday Specific-! 😉 but if it had birthday elements...?)? I think he deserves all the fluff and love 💙💜🙏 Thank you so much! You're a real one! ❤😘🥰

Gurl!! thank you so much for another request! This is my first time writing for Nolan, so I hope I did okay ... (I probably shouldn’t say this, but I still haven’t seen Ready Player One yet, so I used your work and the, like, 2 other Nolan fics on this site to get an idea of how to write him lol.)

Nolan Sorrento x Reader Birthday HCs

So Nolan definitely wants to spoil you so much for your birthday. You’re his best gal (his only gal, really, and he makes sure you know it) and you deserve everything. If he could literally give you everything, then he would. This is also because he likes showing off how much money he has lol.

The morning of your birthday, you are SHOWERED with gifts. Like, hundreds of roses, tons of balloons (the really cool ones that are like clear, but they have things like confetti and smaller balloons inside them), breakfast in bed, champagne — YES CHAMPAGNE FOR BREAKFAST — and a morning birthday gift. Your gift is probably something expensive and vintage. Maybe a really nice old watch, a tennis bracelet (ALL THOSE DIAMONDSSSS), or something along those lines.

If you’re not living together (which he insists that you SHOULD BE since it would make it EASIER to celebrate your birthday together), then he has all the flowers, gifts, food, etc. delivered to your apartment. If he’s working then he’ll make sure to call you the moment you wake up to wish you a happy birthday. If he isn’t working, then he’ll be showing up at your apartment first thing in the morning to present the gift to you himself, give you a kiss, and share some champagne with you.

He tries so hard to get the entire day off (really, the entire week, since he thinks you deserve a whole week of festivities), but he can’t just go traipsing off whenever he feels like it since he’s, you know, the CEO of IOI. But he does manage to get people to cover for him for at least half the day. So he leaves you at your apartment with the promise of a wonderful birthday celebration once he’s back home.

A few hours after breakfast, he has brand new clothes delivered to your apartment. The first is your lunch outfit, which is something classy but beautiful. Colors that compliment your skin tone and bring out the brightness in your eyes, fabric that drapes around your legs and arms, a cut that hugs your shape in just the right way. He has your favorite food delivered to your apartment for lunch, since he can’t be there, but he makes sure to send it with more roses, another small gift (probably a necklace or maybe something a little racier like a cute bustier), and more champagne.

You’re wondering if he really expects that you finished the entire first bottle by yourself, but then you realize that he’s just showing off his wealth. He manages to call you during lunch and you share a few moments talking. You thank him for his generosity and ask him when he’s going to be home. He says that he’ll be home before dinner, but he wants you to have a good time without him.

Then a few hours before he shows up, another package of clothing is delivered. This one is a very nice, slinky dress with all sorts of sparkles and gauzy fabric and it’s beautiful and expensive and wow there are also shoes and earrings and you realize all his other gifts from earlier in the day go perfectly with this evening dress. You feel like a walking, talking diamond by the time you’re done getting dressed. He’s so over-the-top, it’s ridiculous. And adorable.

Nolan shows up at the apartment dressed in an extremely expensive suit, ANOTHER FREAKING BOUQUET OF FLOWERS, and a bottle of wine (one from his own, very old collection and the bottle probably costs more than every single piece of clothing he’s ever bought for you). You share a glass of wine together on your couch, talking about his day at work. He’d rather talk to you about your day though. He likes to point out that you’re wearing the dress and jewelry he bought you. You admit that you really love everything he bought you, even if it was “too expensive.”

Since you’re all dressed up, you figure you’re going out somewhere. “Where are we going?” you ask him. He says that it’s a surprise, and you can’t really pry him for information since he is really good at keeping secret information safe, especially when it comes to you. His investors don’t like it when he spills secrets, so he’s learned to keep a tight lip about secrets and big events, so there’s no way he’s going to slip up on your birthday plans.

So he whisks you away and the real surprise is when you turn up to HIS apartment. Which isn’t bad, really. It’s huge and nicely decorated (except for his little “man cave” which is full of vintage items from his childhood, really dorky memorabilia, and obsolete electronics). You’re surprised to see that the lights are turned down in the living room and dining room, there are lit candles all around, and soft music playing. It’s probably something romantic but also …like, from the late 90s or early 2000s because this is one big Nostalgia Boi. (Claims to be a 90s kid even though he literally did NOT grow up in the 90s, what is he even doing.)

You are more than surprised (stunned, astonished, gobsmacked?) to see that there is a beautiful dinner waiting for you there!! Nolan is more than ready to take credit for it seeing as how touched you are, but let’s face it — this techno-CEO has nowhere near the cooking skills of Danny Rayburn, so he did not cook this elegant meal. He did attempt one, but it burned … and tasted like nothing but salt and sadness … so it was thrown away and he hired someone to come over and cook a delicious, expensive meal for you. There are two place settings at his table, framed with candles and crystal dishes, goblets, rose petals, etc.

You sit down and enjoy dinner with your man, drinking more wine (he’s even brought out a larger selection from his private wine collection so you can sample some of his more expensive tastes, which are so expensive, oh my gosh, why is anyone paying this much for fermented grape juice?). You eat dinner and you talk. You want to ask him more about work, but he pushes for how your day went, what you did, etc. He just … wants to talk about you. It’s so sweet. He could talk on and on about himself all day if he wanted, but right now he’s so focused on you and your birthday. And you’re happy to talk about your day and you end up rambling and you get distracted with how blue his eyes look in the candlelight and how he’s leaning forward, listening to everything you’re saying …

You somehow manage to get through dinner without totally turning into a puddly mess, and you move to his couch with more wine. He surprises you yet again by saying he has one more gift for you. Honestly, you try to refuse it because he has already given you so !! much !!! No more gifts, please! You feel bad. But he insists, so you relent. He pulls out his tablet (what are they called??) and you’re kinda confused because you thought it might be another piece of jewelry or clothing, but you’re not complaining.

He’s so excited but he’s trying to play it cool. He slides closer to you and wraps one arm around you, setting the tablet in your hands. You look down and see a digital rendering of an avatar that is very heavily influenced by 80s and 90s sci-fi films (or so you’ve been told; Nolan’s secret stash of old movies are something he kept close to his heart until you two got very serious, and then he couldn’t wait to have movie nights with you ALL THE TIME). You can see elements of yourself in the character (the hair, the eyes, the hands), but you’re kind of confused. It takes a moment before you notice your name and some sort of nickname up in the corner. Another second passes and then it clicks. You look at Nolan and he’s trying so hard not to grin, but it’s difficult. He’s just so excited.

“Is this me? Did you design this?” you ask him. He nods and looks to you to see if you like it. You’re speechless. Nolan designed this avatar of you, for you? He finally tells you that it’s not just designed, it’s been created and that he wanted you to have a very special avatar for the OASIS. (He kind of just wanted everyone in the OASIS to know that you’re his, because your avatar’s outfit may or may not have elements of his avatar and probably has his name or his avatar’s name hidden somewhere. He could’ve just given her a sash that said “Property of Nolan Sorrento” but that seemed too on the nose.)

If you could, you’d go into the OASIS right then and test out your avatar and probably try to find Nolan’s and just check out the OASIS, really. Also probably try to figure out how you two can make out as avatars lol. He’s all for it, but that’s probably just the wine talking. You end up lounging on the couch, thanking him for his gifts while his head rests on your chest and you run your fingers through his hair. It’s so rare when he lets his guard down, so you take advantage of it whenever you can. He’s very warm and his breathing evens out as you run your hands over his back. Soon you can tell that he’s about to fall asleep, even in his expensive suit. It’s so cute, you don’t want to disturb him. So you keep rubbing circles over his back and tugging at his hair and soon he’s asleep on your chest, and he’s even snoring which is adorable.

You know you can’t stay there forever, but you let him rest for as long as you can, thinking about the wonderful day you had. You didn’t get to spend all day with him, but he made sure that you knew how much he loved you. As you lie on the couch with him, you can’t help but feel overcome with love and begin thinking about all the things you’ll do while in the OASIS with your new avatar, and how you can repay him once his birthday comes around.

#nolan sorrento #nolan sorrento x reader #ready player one #ben mendelsohn #akimi.writes #olderguysandcutiepies #ask #answered #birthday headcanons #//alcohol #//drinking #//gif #linzi is the cutie pie #thank youuuu!!!#i hope i did okay lol

38 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 4 years

Note

I have two little cute headcanon requests! 😊❤️ Danny Rayburn throwing you a surprise party at his restaurant would include? And any other Mendo of your choice - what would dating them be like? Surprise me 😘😘 Thank you sweetheart! 😊💜🙏

Ooh gurl!! thank you so much for this request!! So I know it just said “surprise party” but I made it a birthday party lol. And I kinda added in the other prompt, so you get an idea of what dating Danny is like hehe. I know this is a SUPER long post but I just can’t not write for Danny. I love him so much.

Surprise Birthday Party (and Dating) with Danny Rayburn HCs

On the morning of your birthday, he has a birthday bouquet delivered to your house, along with pastries or whatever your favorite breakfast food is. He also calls you to wish you a happy birthday while he’s at work. He tells you that he wanted to have dinner with you but your birthday landed on a really busy day and he’ll be at work all day.

Of course you’re disappointed but there’s nothing you can do about it. He asks if you’d be willing to stop by at around 7pm after the dinner rush so you can see him. He loves seeing you during his shift because the days can get long and stressful, and seeing your face helps him deal with difficult customers. Occasionally, he’ll cook for you or let you eat anything off the dead plates in the kitchen. He’s not supposed to have you back there for health reasons but … hey, it’s his restaurant.

So you agree to stop by and see him even though you’re pretty sad about the news. You love seeing him at work (he sometimes rolls up the sleeves on his chef’s coat and hoo boy is it sexy), and spending an hour or two at work is better than not seeing him at all on your birthday. And usually he has a cute surprise for you on your birthday, like a little gift or maybe a balloon or something, that he keeps in the kitchen until you’re there.

Meanwhile, Danny has been planning your birthday party for AGES. He loves treating you to things and he really loves being able to use his cooking skills to spoil you. He has contacted a few of your very close friends or family and asked them to come to the restaurant by 6pm. He secretly closed early and finished the dinner rush by 5pm to get the restaurant cleaned and set up for the party.

All the tables are decorated in nice white tablecloths and little decorations in your favorite colors. There’s a buffet table with large bouquets of flowers, a huge birthday cake (that he ordered from your favorite bakery), and all the gifts/cards are stacked neatly around the bouquets/cake.

Your friends and family help decorate the restaurant with streamers, banners, and signs. Danny and his crew begin cooking a special birthday dinner — whatever is your favorite. Steak and lobster? Fettuccine? Some complicated vegan dish with foreign ingredients? Whatever it is, Danny will make it and it’ll be perfect. He likes cooking for you, half because he genuinely loves the art of cuisine, and half because he loves showing off and impressing people (especially since he had been looked down on most of his life and was made to feel like he had no talents or purpose).

He makes everything absolutely perfect before you arrive. The food is ready, gifts are arranged, floor and windows are clean, and all the guests are there. He’s excited but nervous. He wants this to be a great birthday for you, and he hopes you actually show up at the restaurant instead of calling in to say you’d decided to stay home instead …

So you head to the restaurant that evening. Since it’s your birthday and you aren’t really gonna get to celebrate with Danny (so you think) you decide to treat yourself and him by buying a bottle of your favorite drink (wine, champagne, whiskey, sparkling cider, etc.). You arrive at the restaurant and are surprised to see that it’s almost deserted. There are a few cars, but not nearly the same amount as a typical dinnertime at Danny’s restaurant. It’s actually pretty popular so it’s weird to see it so empty when there are still hours before closing time. But you let yourself in through the front and it’s strangely quiet inside. It’s also pretty dark which is definitely weird.

You start to wonder where everyone is (?? Danny?? The waitresses? The guests??) when out of the semi-darkness you can see Danny standing at the hostess stand. He’s holding a plate with a single cupcake with a lit candle. He’s super adorable because he starts singing happy birthday to you as you walk over to him. You’re like, “?? What are you doing???” but it’s just so sweet so you let him sing (no matter how embarrassing you find it). He tells you to make a wish, so you do and blow out the candle.

Then he says, “Allow me to show you to your seat.” And you’re like “Okay…” Then the lights flip on and ?? The entire restaurant is decorated and all your loved ones are there! You’re completely floored and Danny laughs at your expression. You tell him you thought you were gonna have to sneak dinner with him between cooking dishes, and he laughs and quietly whispers to you, “You know you’re worth more than sneaking around in the back, even if it is fun.” When he realizes that you brought a bottle of whatever your favorite drink is, he clicks his tongue at you before taking the bottle and jokingly says he’ll save it for later.

He shows you to your seat and soon everyone is seated, and Danny and a few helpers start bringing out the food. Once everyone is served, Danny sits with you. You are totally surprised and you can tell how much work went into this party. Danny had to shut down his restaurant — his pride and joy — early just so that he could get this ready for you. He went out of his way to contact the people who meant the most to you, he went out and bought decorations, and he ordered a cake. If you were ever unsure about how he felt about you, now you knew for certain. Danny loved you with all of his heart and he was willing to do anything for you.

After dinner, he makes a big deal about the cake and presents. He makes sure you get the traditional first bite of cake (and he may or may not kiss you to get the extra frosting off your lips hehe) and then he wants to watch you open all your gifts. Really he just wants you to open his but he knows you need to open all of them. You hate opening gifts in front of people but you also know it’s rude to not so you give in and agree to start opening gifts. Danny sits you down at your table and begins bringing over gifts. All of the gifts are really nice and you thank everyone. Then you get to the last gift, Danny’s gift. You’re kind of nervous because Danny can be kind of a trickster and he likes to embarrass you a bit and he really can be quite shameless, so do you really want to open this gift when friends and family are all watching you?

But Danny is eagerly waiting so you hesitantly open the gift and it’s actually ??? A really cute gift? It’s probably something like a little locket with a photo of both of you, or something sentimental. Whatever it is, it’s really cute and personal and you’re kind of surprised at how sweet it is. Danny is a really sweet partner and he is really good at getting gifts for you, but he still keeps his heart pretty guarded so knowing that he got you this gift and wanted you to open it in front of everyone? You’re blushing pretty hard but you make sure to tell him thank you, and when you give him a hug you also manage to kiss him and lean in to whisper that you love him.

After the party (which probably goes too late), everyone leaves except for you and Danny, and the few helpers who stayed to clean up. Danny takes you into the kitchen and pulls out two glasses and pours your favorite drink for both of you. He probably sits you on the counter because he thinks it’s so cute and he likes watching you dangle your legs back and forth because your feet can’t reach the ground. Then he tells you that he’s going to give you your “real gift” now and you’re like … yeah, alright, shameless pervy Danny was here all along, he just needed some alcohol to steel his nerves. But you’re surprised when he pulls out another gift box and gives it to you and watches you open it.

It ends up being a little photo album full of photographs of both of you together through your relationship. Little candid pictures of you that he took, selfies together, group photos, etc. It’s so cute, you could die. You end up crying a little bit because of how sentimental and sweet the gift is, and that’s in addition to the sweet locket he gave you!!

You end the night with drinking and him walking you home after he locks up the restaurant. To your surprise, he’s pretty gentlemanly but you assume it’s because he has to work early tomorrow morning and he can’t afford to jeopardize his livelihood. So he kisses you goodnight (it probably actually didn’t start off that innocent because, well, it’s Danny, but he certainly tries to make it teasing and he is an expert at teasing, so just when you’re just about to ask him to stay the night he breaks the kiss and says he has to leave lol). Then he waits to make sure you get inside okay, then he heads back to his apartment. During the night, he’ll text you periodically to remind you that he loves you and to wish you a happy birthday.

“Your birthday doesn’t end until midnight, so I can wish you a happy birthday all I want until then,” he says. He’s such a dork. But sweet. And the last thing he texts you before he goes to bed is, “I love you.” It may seem pretty plain to some (no nickname or anything), but you know how much he means it, and how hard it is for him to be open with his feelings. So, really, that little text means just as much as the gifts he got for you. You make sure to text him back, “I love you too” because, honestly, he needs it and deserves it.

#danny rayburn #ben mendelsohn #headcanons #danny rayburn x reader #olderguysandcutiepies #ask #answered #akimi.writes #//gif #i was trying to EDIT this and put it in a draft #when it POSTED IT #i'm so old idk how to work tumblr anymore lol #you should have heard the gasp that left my mouth #when i saw i posted it instead of drafted it #you'd think i'd seen someone get murder't #right in front of me #thank you for the request btw!!!#you're such a peach!!!! ily!!

31 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Text

Puppet (Page 4/4 and end ficlet)

Pairings: ShikaSaku Rating: Teen Warnings: Blood/gore, body horror, psychological abuse, verbal abuse, and disabilities discussed. Notes: Read right to left, like a standard manga. For @dimancheetoile who deserved more than this. Thank you for waiting for so long.

@fineillsignup @thetoxicstrawberry @raendown

This is what it’s like to lose, her mind screams, but it’s topped by the cold even tone of Sasori.

This is what it’s like to be weak. This is what would have happened to you if I hadn’t let you win. If I had wanted to, I would have made you my next weapon. Every sinew, every tendon, every fiber of muscle and cell of skin would have been mine to craft and cut and create. My perfect creation. And I would have used you and your strength against your teammates and turned you against all of Konoha. But look at you now. You may have a wooden arm that looks like mine, but you’re no good to me with that injury. A perfect weapon can’t be made out of an imperfect body. You’re useless.

The voice is somehow louder than Sakura’s sobs and she clutches at her ear with her hand, trying to shut it out. “Stop it!” she screams, tears and saliva dribbling into the sink. “Leave me alone!”

Worthless. What good is a ninja with only one arm? You can’t complete any jutsu. And while you may rely on your brute strength and short temper to finish jobs, your balance is so off-kilter because of that prosthetic. You’ll never be a real fighter ever again.

“N-Naruto and Sasuke o-only have one arm!” she shouts back, eyes screwed shut. She doesn’t even know who she’s talking to at this point. The voice is some strange mix of her own and Sasori’s, and a few others. They sound like her teammates, her friends, her mentor, her Hokage. They’re chiding, disappointed, mocking.

Naruto’s got his arm back and Sasuke, well Sasuke’s off doing his own thing, isn’t he? But the thing is, Sakura, they were far more powerful than you to begin with. Sasuke is an Uchiha and he has harnessed the power of the Sharingan. Naruto is from the famous Uzumaki clan. He is a jinchuuriki. Not only was he strong before, but he managed to funnel the kyuubi’s chakra for his own use. They were surpassing you in their sleep. You never stood a chance to be at their level, let alone beat them. They could lose all their limbs and still be powerful, respected ninja. You’ll never be that. You’re so weak, you’re useless with just losing one arm.

“I’m n-not useless!”

You are. What jutsu can you do? Who can you heal? What surgeon operates with one hand tied behind their back? What is the percentage of disabled ninja sent out into the field? You. Are. Useless. What can you do with one arm?

“I can do this!” Sakura screams, her throat raw and torn. She throws herself back, face slick with tears and spit, eyes puffy, body trembling. She pulls back her right arm, closes her hand, and shoves her fist through the mirror and into the wall. The glass shatters instantly into thousands of small pieces, exploding around the room. The bare wall behind it is left with a spiderweb of cracks that run along the ceiling and down into the tiled floor. She pants heavily and pulls away her arm, leaving a large hole in the cement wall. Dust swirls about the room and there is a commotion of everyone else in the apartment complex scrambling to figure out what on earth just happened. She can hear theories of earthquake, paper bombs, even a gas explosion from one of the units’ stoves.

Sakura limps out of the bathroom, glass and plaster coating her skin and weaving into her hair, and collapses onto her bed. Her face is burning hot and more tears find their way down her cheeks and into her sheets.

“I’m not useless,” she breathes. Grabbing the prosthetic off of the bed and throwing it across the room into the wall, she buries her face into her pillows. “I’m not a puppet. I’m not like him. I’m real. And I’m okay.”

The sounds of running footsteps thundering past her apartment door are nowhere as loud as the pounding of her heartbeat in her temples. She can faintly hear people chattering and then banging on her door as the landlord goes from room the room to ask if everyone is okay. She is too tired to get up and answer the door, even to let them know she’s alive and well.

Or at least that she’s alive. Even if it doesn’t feel like it. And she doesn’t want to have to put her prosthetic on just for a brief exchange between herself and the landlord so she stays in bed and takes up as much breath as she can to shout over the noises in her own head and says she’s fine, and she can’t come to the door because she’s showering. No she didn’t feel an earthquake, and yes her apartment is in one piece. The footsteps move on, the chatter dies off, and Sakura is alone again to stir in the fragments of the argument she’s having with herself.

She resists the will to continue the fight with the amalgamation of voices still mocking her and squeezes her eyes shut, hoping her weariness will let her sleep before her thoughts turn darker.

A/N: Thank you Mako for your incredible patience and understanding. There actually was more ShikaSaku moments in the fic, but it fought me tooth and nail the whole time and it won. If I ever get around to finishing it, and making it less like what I’ve already written you, I promise to post it and tag you in it. You deserve to have the entire story.

58 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Text

A Compliment For Brown Eyes (KakaIru)

Found the prompts thru Google so if you know the OP, feel free to tag! Also I saw a headcanon that Iruka is related to Hashi and I believe it. I’ve wondered about it for a while now, but when I saw someone else think the same I was v happy!

Words: 537 Pairings: None / KakaIru if you want Warnings: None

“But I think it’s important for all students to feel that their hard work is being recognized, even if they’re failing their classes -”

“Your eyes aren’t brown.”

“Huh?” Iruka’s attention was ripped from the list of things he’d pretty much memorized. He blinked a few times, the unwavering stare of the Rokudaime making him nervous. “What?”

“Your eyes. They aren’t brown,” Kakashi said as if it were perfectly normal business to interrupt the principal of the Academy with a tidbit of information in regards to the younger man’s eyes.

Iruka’s eyebrows furrowed together, a mix of annoyed that he’d been interrupted when discussing something important and confused because, yes his eyes were brown thank you very much.

“What are you talking about? They are too brown. But as I was saying -”

“No, no, they aren’t,” Kakashi insisted.

“Yes. They are.”

“I mean, they’re brown, but that’s not it.”

“May I please continue? I’d like to get through this before I lose you to another appointment.”

Kakashi, clearly distracted, went on. “They are brown but … they have little flecks of gold in them. Around your pupil. And there’s a little bit of green. I’d never noticed before.”

Iruka huffed. “I’d never expect you to notice my eyes.” Though secretly he was impressed. He’d noted the green a few years ago, but hadn’t yet seen the gold. Maybe it was just the lighting. “Can I -?”

“Wait.”

Iruka grumbled as Kakashi escaped his desk to stand before the photographs of the previous Hokage. “Come here.”

The chunin reluctantly sidled beside Kakashi and looked at the photos. “What?”

Kakashi motioned to the first Hokage, Hashirama. “Dark hair, dark skin … similar eyes … your jawline and chin are the same too.” He turned suddenly and surprised the younger man, his eyes closed in a smile. “Are you sure you aren’t related to Lord First Hokage? All the signs point to it. Maybe that’s why you have such a soft spot for Naruto … The Senju and Uzumaki bloodlines are connected. It’s your nature.”

Iruka now studied the photo of Hashirama carefully. He couldn’t deny there were similarities … But so what? Lots of people looked alike but weren’t related, like Gai and Lee. Though that was mostly stylistic similarities. He noticed Kakashi was staring at him again and he made a face. “What?”

“Nothing. Go on with your report.”

“Thank you. As I was saying about the children -”

“Actually -”

Iruka snorted and looked close to committing murder.

“You may not be related, but … you are the same.” Kakashi looked again to the portraits. “Kind, patient, a love for knowledge and spreading the Will of Fire to the next generation … A good shinobi, a wonderful teacher, a friend even to your enemies. It doesn’t matter if you’re related by blood or not. You inherited the traits befitting a Hokage. Maybe you should be sitting here instead of me …”

Iruka stared in stunned silence until Kakashi turned back, smiled and urged him to continue his request. He fumbled through his report and said nothing else as Kakashi gave him feedback and sent him off. He was fairly distracted the rest of the week, wondering how such a revelation could come from a simple comment over eye color.

307 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Note

not very original, but headcanons for kisame finding out someone has a crush on him?! (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑ (it's me. i have a crush on him.)

Who cares if it’s not original? And ya I know it’s you. I wish we still knew/could find the quiz that started it all. It was probably on Quizilla, rip. A bit of a mix of modern AU and canonverse because why not? Spookie Scary Skelefish. Spookie Sharky Skeletons. Idk. Ship names?

KISAME FINDING OUT SOMEONE HAS A CRUSH ON HIM

Kisame would probably be a bit surprised. He is a little (a lot) self-conscious about the way he looks, so he wonders just what about him that you find attractive. Is it his personality? His ties to the Akatsuki? His sword, Samehada? He really doesn’t think it has anything to do with his looks. Maybe you saw him fighting once and thought he was pretty cool, but he’s convinced it was from a distance so you didn’t get to see his face and that’s why you’re still interested.

I think it depends on how he finds out you have a crush on him. If it’s because you sent a note admitting your feelings, he’d really want to find out who you were because “Someone likes me even though they know what I look like?” Even if nothing came of it, he’d just want to meet the person who had feelings for him. If he found out because a close friend of his told him because they knew, he’d pester them into giving him for information - who is it? Does he know you? What do you look like? Can he meet you?

In canonverse, he’d probably be a bit hesitant because he’s part of a super secret organization and there’s quite literally a price on his head. But if he ended up meeting you and he liked you (he would, he totally would, he’d be so ecstatic) and you were willing to work solely for the Akatsuki and were serious, he probably wouldn’t have too many issues getting to know you better and possibly even dating you, if you wanted to.

In a more modern AU, possibly a college or work AU, Kisame would definitely pester his friend/co-worker (it’s Itachi) into spilling the beans on who you are. Itachi works with you and runs messages from you to Kisame, and vice versa. He’s a good messenger boy, tbh. Never reads the messages if they’re physical, and doesn’t repeat them to anyone else if they’re oral. Itachi would probably be the middleman as Kisame and you arrange a meeting of sorts. Both of you are nervous. Itachi isn’t. He knows it’ll work out well. He knows both of you and he laughs to himself about how ridiculous you both are.

Once Kisame and you meet, it’s SOOOO sweet omg. He’s such a sweetheart, honestly. People don’t really expect him to be because he’s this huge, burly guy who has this intimidating laugh and probably owns a sword or two. But he also loves tiny animals and baking and ofc loves anything related to the ocean, and he’s very gentle and kind and a true gentleman at heart. We’ve also established he’s into pop punk music, so there’s that.

Kisame thinks you’re so adorable omg. Probably because you’re so small compared to him (literally everyone is), but your personality is also a huge part of it. If you’re shy or more reserved, he thinks that’s kind of sweet. But if you’re more outgoing or sassy, maybe you can banter with him, laugh at his jokes/make your own jokes, then he’d probably already be planning a second date haha. He loves it when you talk about something you’re passionate or enthusiastic about, and if your interests or goal in life involves anything to do with animals or the ocean, he’s sold.

All in all, I think Kisame would be super hyped someone had a crush on him. If he wasn’t able to see you for long periods of time, or if it was before you met and you were hesitant to meet up in person, he’d totally be willing to exchange letters with you. Other people around him would probably make fun of him for being so sentimental, but he doesn’t care. He likes having physical proof of someone who cares about him, and he keeps everything you send in a box of some type. He’d also probably send you weird things that he thinks are romantic - like a nice rock from a village he stopped in, maybe a piece of lining from his Akatsuki cloak, or even a scale from Samehada if that’s possible.

He’s just super sweet and kind and probably gives gr8 hugs and is so proud and excited, and would show off every letter/gift you gave him, and brag to everyone that someone has a crush on him. Definitely brags about it to Itachi because Itachi is the “good-looking one” in the group, according to Deidara. Proves Deidara wrong that he’s not so weird that someone wouldn’t like him. (Totally taunts, “How many people have crushes on you, Deidara? I don’t see anyone.”)

#mine 44 #akimi.writes #spookie scary skeletons #kisame #kisame hoshigaki #hoshigaki kisame #naruto #headcanons #naruto shippuden #shippuden headcanons #akatsuki #akatsuki headcanons #kisame headcanons #kisame hoshigaki headcanons #itachi uchiha #crush headcanons #hoshigakii

200 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Note

Hi again Can I get some headcanons with Genma celebrating his girlfriend Birthday for my big day?

Of course!! I lovedoing headcanons. 90% of my convos recently with my angel have beenstupid Akatsuki headcanons (mostly Saso and Dei but also Obi). You’returning 21 right (maybe?? Based on my limited knowledge and the lastrequest you sent in??)? Happy birthday!! I hope you have anabsolutely beautiful day! I’m also gonna tag @shiranuigenma because she can always use some Genma Wholesomeness™ Hope these are alright!

HOW GENMA WOULDCELEBRATE HIS S/O’S B-DAY

Genma may not be themost organized party planner but you bet your boots he’s gotsomething in store for you. If you’re more social, he’d probablytry to do a surprise party with all of your and his friends. It maybe at your apartment, or his (if you don’t live together), orsomeplace like a restaurant.

If you’re not verysocial or don’t like big parties, he’d do something smaller. He’deither invite a few close friends to your place for dinner (he cookedit, it’s amazing, you’re #blessed to be eating his creations tbh)or he’d arrange to have a small group of friends meet at arestaurant for lunch or dinner. He may even have a lunch with you andfriends, and then do a nice dinner with just the two of you.

Genmais a master baker. Seriously. This boy just knows how to makedelicious food. I headcanon he learned it from his mama. When he wasbut a wee toddler, he’d hang onto her apron and stand on her feetwhile she cooked and baked and eventually he picked it up. (He hasmad respect for his mom and still calls her up for recipes, advice,and asking why his souffle has chunks of egg in it instead of beingsmooth he followed the instructions perfectly.)So he’s definitely baking your birthday dessert, if you want one.Cake? Sure. Ice cream or custard? He can make that. Tarts? Flan?Something really complicated but delicious and beautiful? He’llspend all day working on it to make it perfect. So sweet.

Soafter dinner and dessert comes presents! Or before - it’s really upto you. I don’t know how you personally celebrate it, but sometimeduring the day Genma will turn up with anywhere between one to fivegifts for you. He just loves you a lot and wants to spoil you (butnot too much). Andevery gift he gets for you is very personal and something you’d useor like. He does his research. He may not be too sneaky about it atfirst (”Hey, what do you want for your birthday? Just wondering…”)because he wants to make sure what he gets you is actually what youwant. If you’re anartist, he’ll research the best brands, and may even snoop a littleto see what brands you frequently use and what you’re running lowon (paints, brushes, pens, markers, sketchbooks, etc). If you’re anauthor, he might buy you nice notebooks or some type of organizer foryour notes and ideas. If you’re not very artistic, he’d find theperfect gift for you - books, movies, music, collectibles, whateverit is that you really love. He loves supporting you and your hobbies.

After all thecelebrations are over - friends are gone, food’s eaten, presentsare opened - Genma would really just want to cuddle on the couch andwatch a movie or read a book with you. He’d also be willing to justsit in silence or talk with you if you wanted. He just loves spendingtime with you and holding you close (if you’re comfortable withit), knowing that you’re there with him, celebrating another yearof your life with him in it. He also probably breaks out some nicewine or other not-too-heavy alcohol to celebrate what he genuinelyhopes will be a wonderful next year for you. (And, yes, he does dodumb stuff after a few glasses and ends up singing “Happy Birthday”to you and pulls out the party hats he’s been hiding all day.)

Tbhhe probably has onemore gift stashed away for you, just for you to open by yourself.It’s not necessarily anything naughty or embarrassing - more likelyheartfelt and important. He just wants you to be comfortable openingit by yourself, so he’ll either leave it in your apartment (if youlive separately), or give it to you and go into another room (if youlive together). He’s a sweetheart.

Totally loves givingyou “birthday kisses”. He says they’re even more special thanregular kisses. He doesn’t really explain why, but he doesn’tneed an explanation or a reason. They’re always gentle andlingering and he smiles softly afterward. (also after-wine kisseswith Genma? 10/10 would recommend)

Ifyou have to spend your birthday apart, he’ll send a card and a giftto you so it arrives precisely on your birthday. He’ll try to use acourier ninja (even if he has to lie and say it’s some importantdocument or gift for a feudal lord so that he can use theirservices), or he’ll give it to someone he really trusts since hecan’t hand deliver it. He either uses some sappy romantic birthdaycard or a really stupid birthday card with a lame joke, there’s noin between. The gift he sends is a nice one, but the moreimportant/personal one he keeps at home to keep it safe because hedoesn’t trust courier nin that much.Then he’ll celebrate with you when you get back (probably just anat-home dinner and movie).

Justgenerally, Genma will try to give you the best birthday he can. He’dnever force his own ideas of a “perfect” birthday on you. If youwant to stay home in sweats, that’s fine. If you want to getdressed up and go out, that’s cool with him too. If you want tocuddle, awesome. If you’d rather not be touchy-feely at all, that’sA-OK. If you’re uncomfortable accepting gifts, he wouldn’t forceyou to accept any from him. If you’d rather cook, he doesn’tmind. This is YOUR special day, and he wants YOU to enjoy it. He’sjust a really awesome boyfriend and loves you lots and lots.

#mine 44 #akimi.writes #naruto headcanons #genma shiranui #shiranui genma #genma headcanons #litkatkim #birthday headcanons #genma x reader #genma sfw headcanons #knocked these out in like 10 minutes #i've been having major writer's block #on one of my stories #ughhh #i consistently do around 8 bulletin points for headcanons per character #is that too many?#i don't want to idk 'cheat' people?#i just talk a lot

65 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Text

Cheapskate (Kakashi Drabble)

Found the prompts thru Google so if any of you recognize them, please feel free to tag the OP!

Words: 469 Pairings: None Warnings: None

“It was so nice catching up with you two again,” Sakura beamed, her bottle green eyes shining in the fluorescent lights overhead. Her wooden chopsticks clinked against the empty ramen bowl on the counter as she set them aside. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

Naruto grinned wide, drops of dashi broth sitting on his chin and a tiny fleck of nori between his teeth. “It was nice having a meal with two of my favorite people,” he agreed, turning to look at Sakura and then at Kakashi. “We should do this more often!”

“Hm,” Kakashi nodded, already pushing his nose into the pages of Icha Icha. He suspected this had been one more attempt for his grown students to catch even the slightest glimpse of his unmasked face. But an over-boiling pot and Teuchi cutting his finger on a freshly sharpened knife provided just enough distraction for him to eat without them seeing.

“You know what we should do?” Sakura quipped, leaning an elbow on the counter and sitting forward to see both men.

“What?” Naruto asked, drumming his fingers together almost mischievously, like he knew the answer already.

“We should start treating each other! So one time, you pay for all of us, Naruto, then the next time, I pay and so on.”

“Good idea,” he piped up, his blue eyes full of understanding. They turned on Kakashi who was only half listening. He quirked an eyebrow and threw a glance in their direction.

“Hm?”

Both grinning like toddlers who’ve just put into place the best prank against their unsuspecting parent, they crowed together, “Thank you for treating us to ramen, Kakashi-sensei!”

“Huh?”

Quicker than Lee without his weights, Sakura and Naruto bolted out of the ramen sand, leaving Kakashi behind with an enormous stack of empty bowls. He turned to see Teuchi standing there, bill in bandaged hand, staring him down. Sheepishly, Kakashi tucked away Icha Icha and began patting down his clothes. He fumbled through a few pockets, muttered, “I know it’s here somewhere …”, then turned suddenly and pointed out onto the street.

“Quick, catch that cat! It stole my wallet!” Jumping to his feet, Kakashi sprinted out of Ichiraku, chased by the angry shouts of Teuchi and Ayame. For a disappointed moment, Kakashi thought he’d never be able to return to the ramen stand. Then he realized - the bill would be added to an open tab, and the only shinobi with an open tab at Ichiraku was Naruto. And judging from Sakura’s suggestion of “treating each other”, it’d be Naruto’s turn to pay for them all next time anyway. Humming to himself, Kakashi strolled down the street and thought about inviting Gai to their next outing, and perhaps even Chouji. Maybe he’d even make it a challenge; a ramen-eating contest.

#mine 44 #akimi.writes #kakashi hatake #kakashi drabble #sakura haruno #sakura haruno fic #kakashi fic #kakashi hatake fic #naruto #naruto uzumaki #naruto fic #naruto drabble #tagging is a nightmare idk how to do it #naruto uzumaki fic #naruto uzumaki drabble

28 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Text

Hardly Working (KoteIzu)

Prompts found thru Google, feel free to tag OP if you know who it is! I just found out Izumo is older than Kotetsu?

Words: 632 Pairings: None / KoteIzu if you want Warnings: None @shiranuigenma

At half past three in the afternoon, Izumo and Kotetsu were pretty much dying of boredom. They still had piles of paperwork to do, but neither of them felt like doing anything. Being a shinobi seemed to consist of two things - going on missions, or doing paperwork. Some missions were pretty boring too, but paperwork just didn’t have the same danger of ambush, injury or death that a really good mission did.

Izumo folded one paper into an airplane and lobbed it at Kotetsu across the room. One wing was larger than the other so it tilted harshly to the let, swerved away from Kotetsu’s desk, and straight into the ground. The other man didn’t even seem to notice so Izumo tried again. This one was wrinkled at the front and nosedived right into the floor. At the failure of his second attempt, Izumo cursed quietly under his breath and started a third. Kotetsu finally looked up and quirked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

Izumo hurriedly shuffled the papers together and coughed, “Nothing.”

“Mhm …” He watched the older ninja try to stealthily fold another airplane, properly this time. Kotetsu decided he could one up his partner and began tearing one report into small pieces and balling them up.

“What are you doing?” Izumo challenged, alerted by the sound of paper ripping.

“Nothing,” Kotetsu mimicked, not even bothering to look up. He worked the report into a few dozen paper balls and retrieved the straw from his long empty cup. He turned just as Izumo launched his third plane and it soared across the room and glided onto Kotetsu’s desk as if it were its very own landing strip.

“Dang. Missed.”

“Missed? What were you aiming for?”

“Your head.” Izumo started on a fourth plane.

Kotetsu took the opportunity to slip a paper ball into one end of his straw, drew the other end to his lips, aimed expertly, and blew as hard as he could. The paper ball shot out like a bullet and hit Izumo in the eye, causing him to throw his head back and groan.

“What are you doing?!” he shouted.

“I didn’t miss.”

Izumo crumpled up the final paper plane and threw it at Kotetsu, who was firing more spitballs at him. Before long the room was cluttered with torn paper, crumbled up reports, and soggy beads of paper balls. Izumo had run out of paper and was just reaching for a bookend to throw when a harsh voice cut in,

“Skipping out on work again?”

They both turned hurriedly to see Tsunade standing there, looking annoyed. Each tried to clean up their desks but it didn’t matter since the rest of the office was a mess. Kotetsu opened his mouth to speak but one look from Tsunade silenced him.

“Clearly you two have a hard time working together. I’m going out for a late lunch. By the time I get back, I expect this place to be cleaned up and every - single - report - finished.”

Neither protested as she left. Once her footsteps faded, Izumo moved to pick up the first of many ruined reports when he was hit in the back of the head with a paper ball.

“What are you doing? She said to clean up.”

Kotetsu scoffed and began unfolding one piece of paper to make into a whole new set of spitballs. “She said she’s going for a late lunch. That’s code for she’s going out for a few drinks and won’t be back tonight.”

Izumo’s face lit up and he abandoned his task of cleaning, throwing the handful of paper balls at Kotetsu. “Well then - looks like it’s night shift’s problem!”

Kotetsu fired three spitballs at once and they each stuck to the side of Izumo’s desk. “No wonder they hate us.”

28 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Photo

Click on the photo to view the larger version on dA.

Kakashi either must’ve done something incredibly wonderful or gone through something incredibly awful in a past life to deserve this family. He’d gone over every possible situation in his head, if reincarnation was even real. Which he half-wondered sometimes since occasionally there’d be someone on the street who was a complete stranger to him, but their eyes - their souls - seemed so familiar.

Kakashi really didn’t know if he was being rewarded for good behavior or if this was an apology gift for what he’d been put through in his previous time on earth.

There was his father - Sakumo, who was strong and kind and wise. He’d never raised his voice or lost his temper (not even when Kakashi really acted up).

His mother was dead, and considering that he never felt any supernatural connection with someone that felt “motherly”, he suspected he hadn’t known his mother in past lives either.

And then there was his younger brother. The one who admired him to the point of worship. The one who did whatever he said, held a loyalty to him that rivaled Kakashi’s loyalty to their father. Some mix of innocent and terrifying - worldly and naive - dependent and independent. A brother that seemed to realize the same thing Kakashi did - they’d known each other in a past life, all of them had. Yet it was never a topic of discussion between them, nor was it something that weighed on the mind of their father. As far as Sakumo was concerned, they were a happy family, just the three of them. A man and his two sons. Brothers with a bond that transcended time, transcended lives, controlled and ordered by the universe, arranged by the invisible strings of fate so that they were never apart.

The brothers, Hatake Kakashi and Yamato.

My Christmas gift for @kujyou12! She wanted a reincarnation AU with Kakashi and Yamato as brothers. All I could get out of writing was the above short fic, and so I tried my hand at drawing it. I drew it in my new sketchbook and scanned it from there, which is why the right edge is kinda funky (it’s the spine). I hope this is okay! Merry Christmas!!

Kakashi: It’s cold! Yamato: Papa look! Kaka oniichan and I switched coats! Ha ha ha Sakumo: My sons are so cute!

32 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 7 years

Note

Hi can you do something with this? Tsunade throws a ball (or something fun ) for the ninjas (after the war) and hires someone(that's shy) to teach dance for the ones that want extra practice and Genma ends up asking the girl who was hired to go to the ball with him?

Of course!! This is such a cute request ommggg, thank you for sending this in!! Sorry if it’s too long. I don’t know how not to do that??? Also I haven’t finished the series so, like, everything I know about most of Shippuden/the war is through gifsets, rip.

I’m sorry this took me a while to get out! I had 3 different versions and this was the one I liked most. I also haven’t written for Genma since I was like 15, so I kinda took cues from @shiranuigenma ‘s writing. If anyone knows Genma, it’s her (what a hoe).

Words: 3.406Rating: General Pairing: Genma x Reader

Your entire body stiffened at the solid knock on the front door of your studio,signaling someone’s unexpected arrival. You’d been hired a littlemore than a week earlier to give a few dancing lessons to some of theshinobi in the village for the upcoming dance that the Hokage, LadyTsunade, had arranged. When she’d called you up the week before,she explained that she wanted the residents of Konoha - especiallythe ninja who had risked their lives during the war - to know thatthey were moving forward and leaving the dark past behind. While manypeople were still recovering emotionally and physically from the war,and bits of the village were still in disrepair, enough time hadpassed for something as seemingly frivolous as a Shinobi Ball to beheld.

“It will beshinobi only,” Tsunade had explained to you very seriously. “Ithought it’d be nice to have something just for them. However …These are trained soldiers of war. Many of them won’t be willing togo to these lessons, but I’ve made them mandatory for that veryreason. I really don’t want to see a bunch of grown adultsstumbling around like pre-teens, stepping on each other’s toes andfalling over themselves. Everyone has to have at least a full week oflessons, and after that they can get extra lessons from you if theywant.”

Tsunade had seemedvery sorry that you were the only person in charge of teaching dozensof shinobi how to dance, but your studio was the only one leftstanding in the village - and since dance lessons weren’t apriority immediately after the war, you were the only instructor whowas still teaching. But every one of the ninja who’d shown up forthe past lessons had been more or less very kind and willing to workwith you - and, surprisingly, with each other. The ones mostenthusiastic about learning to dance were the ones you had come toknow as Gai and Lee. They were both already incredibly flexible andagile (even with Gai’s leg in a cast), eager to learn the evensteps and calculated movements of the dances on the list Tsunade haddrawn up. (More accurately, the list her assistant Shizune had drawnup.)

Thankfully, Gai andLee’s overenthusiastic participation in every lesson - and theirnatural talent for many of the dances - had distracted most of theothers into watching them, leaving you without a dozen pairs of eyes on you. It also helped that many of the shinobi were more interestedin dancing with one another (an exuberant blonde had been more thanwilling to partner up with a girl with pink hair “for old time’ssake”), and some of them seemed to know the basics of dance prettywell (a silver-haired jonin turned away when you asked where helearned how to dance and he merely mumbled, “I’ve had … a lotof diverse training since I was a child”).

But as the days wenton, fewer and fewer shinobi showed up for the full lessons. Each onehad been given a piece of paper that Tsunade asked you to mark withyour signature to prove they’d shown up.

“It doesn’t saywe have to stay for the whole lesson,” the one you’d learned wasIzumo said as he held out his slip. “Just that we have to show up.We’ve shown up. Not that we don’t like it here,” he motioned tothe dim studio, hot with body heat and humid with sweat, “but we’vegot a lot of important things to do. I think we’ve learnedeverything we can from you, so maybe just … put your initial nextto the rest of the days? Thanks.”

You’d compliedwith Izumo and Kotetsu who opted out after the second day, and oncethe others realized how easy it was to get out of the lessons, theysoon followed suit and abandoned the class. Yesterday was the finalday of mandatory lessons and only Gai and Lee had shown up, asfaithful as ever, dressed in green jumpsuits and wearing their toothygrins. Not even the stoic Kakashi, who had a natural rhythm he wasalmost ashamed of, had bothered to show up (not that he showed up ontime for the lessons in the first place). As far as you knew, no onehad signed up for extra lessons and no civilian in the village hadstopped by your studio since before the war.

You steeled yournerves, strode over to the door, and did your best to yank it open.It sat crooked on its hinges and the top corner was shoved tightlyagainst the jamb, forcing you to brace one hand on the wall and useyour entire body’s strength to wrench it open. It flew back,slamming against the wall, and sent you stumbling back a few steps.Your face burned hot with embarrassment when you saw one of yourstudents - one of the ones who’d dropped out halfway through -standing there, a look of mild surprise on his face.

“Sorry,” hesaid, chewing on the senbon between his lips, “didn’t mean tobreak your door.”

“N-No!” you saidquickly, reaching out to place a hand on the peeling paint of thefront door. “It wasn’t you. This old thing always gets stuck whenthe weather changes. Uhm, wh-what are you … doing here?”

The man pursed hislips together and the senbon wiggled in the air. “I’m here for alesson, what do you think?”

You looked away whenhis brown eyes caught yours, a look of mischief crossing his face. “Alesson? Did the Hokage realize you dropped out and make you comeback?”

“No,” he saidsimply, leaning against the jamb, his eyes trailing over youplayfully. “As far as the Hokage’s concerned, I came to everylesson. I’m just here for the extra practice.”

Youfelt your hands shake as you picked at the paint on the door’ssurface, letting it crack and flake to the ground. “O-Oh, well …I didn’t think anyone was interested in extra lessons. Only twopeople actually came to all the mandatory ones,anyway …”

“It didn’t hurtyour feelings, did it?”

Quickly, you turnedto him with wide eyes to see his face was serious, his eyes dark.“What? Hurt my feelings? No!”

“Oh, good. Ithought maybe …” He cleared his throat, adjusting the senbon inhis mouth. “So what? Are you gonna make me stand out here allnight? We can dance in the street, I don’t mind. Do you?”

Your ears turnedpink and you shuffled away from the door, awkwardly motioning himinside the cool building. “S-Sorry about that. I don’t normally …er, what dance did you …?”

Genma grabbed theedge of the door and gave it a good once-over. It was clearly in poorcondition and not at all sized correctly for its frame. Biting histongue from making a rude comment, he pushed it closed and it slammedshut, wedging itself closed too tightly. You jumped at the noise andGenma now bit his tongue to keep from cursing. “Uh … Whichever one youwant. I think I dropped out after the third day, right? So, whateveryou taught after that.”

Youfought the urge to give the man an unimpressed look. If he would’vejust shown up in the first place … “Okay, so what do you rememberfrom the lessons you didgo to? We can start from there and continue.”

Genma gave asheepish smile and shrugged. “To be quite honest, I don’tremember much. Do you think we could start over?”

Paling, yourshoulders dropped and you looked at the man in disbelief - but thepuppy dog look he gave you sent a hot blush across your face. Youturned stiffly and mumbled an unconvincing “sure…”

Walking to thecenter of the room and standing to face the wall of glinting mirrors,you watched in the reflection as Genma followed you, a flirtatioussmirk across his face. Did he have any other expression?

“Sure is lonelyhere,” he said, his eyes moving up to look at you in the mirrors.Even if the mirrors hadn’t been there, you would’ve been able totell he was approaching. The floorboards underneath you shifted andcreaked under his weight and you could feel the heat radiating off ofhis body as he approached; he was like a human space heater.

“Mhm,”you said, already regretting this decision. You couldn’t deny thatthe older man was incredibly attractive and the ever-present smirk onhis face made your stomach turn to butterflies, but your cripplingshyness wouldn’t allow you to entertain such thoughts without anice layer of blush covering your face. You were sure that by nowhe’d noticed the embarrassing stutter that cropped up whenever youspoke, a side effect as your brain malfunctioned from his cuteness.Your heart fluttered in your chest as you turned slowly to face him,keeping your eyes away from his. Reaching out with your left arm, youtook his hand in yours and gently folded your fingers between his. Hewatched you closely with entertainment written all over his face -without even looking at him, you could just feel hisamusement. Desperately trying to act professionally, you guided hisother hand to your waist.

“P-Put your hands,um … here,” you mumbled.

“Ooh, saucy,” heteased when his fingers brushed against your hip. You felt yourentire body burn and you quickly adjusted his position, moving hishand up higher on your waist.

“S-Sorry, Im-meant h-here …”

“That’s okay,”he said, settling his thumb under one of your ribs. “I like thisposition better anyway.”

Jell-O didn’tshake as much as your legs were in this moment. You blinked rapidly,the studio suddenly far too hot and small, your hands tremblingviolently.

“You’reshaking,” he murmured, the senbon rolling over his pink lips. “AmI making you nervous? Is it this?” He bit down on the needle so itturned upwards, shining in the overhead lights. “I can put it awayif you want. But, trust me, I’ve never harmed anyone with this Ididn’t intend to.”

“N-No, it’sf-fine,” you muttered. “Take a step back.”

“Huh? Am I too close?” He looked at the space between you two, your hips nearlytouching, his chest hovering before your face. “I thought we weresupposed to be this close for this dance.”

“I mean … that’sthe first move - you take a-a step back. And then you take a step toyour left.”

“Right.” Genmagrasped your hand and waist a bit tighter, pulling you with him as hestepped backwards, slowly going through the dance with ease. When youlooked up at him in surprise, the corner of his lips pulled up in asmile. “Sorry,” he said, “I guess I remembered more than Ithought.”

Genmaled you around the studio and you almost immediately relinquishedpower to him, allowing yourself to follow in his graceful footstepsaround the creaking floor. For a brief moment your eyes closed andyou took in everything about the man you were with. His palms werecalloused and dry - undoubtedly from years of fighting and trainingwith weapons; his shirt smelled like woodsmoke; and his breath wassoft as it brushed against your hair. The clickof the senbon was easy to hear as he bit down on it and rolled itover his tongue to the other side of his mouth. Never once did youdare to look up, instead keeping your eyes on the middle of hischest. Your mind reeled at the grace with which he spun you aroundthe room and you could sense that he was staring at you - smirking,mocking you. He hadcome here fully knowing how to dance; he was just here to get areaction out of you. He’d known from the first day how shy you were- he was one of the ones who’d made comments about how softly youspoke and how you must’ve been afraid of your own voice. Truly youwere afraid of being heard, and subsequently judged, by thedisgruntled ninja who were being forced to take your lessons. He didall of this just to make fun of you.

Whenyou stopped moving, Genma’s hands remained on your body and hechewed on the needle for a while before saying, “So, how was that?D’you think we can move onto something more complex? I heard youtaught Gai something that involved some sort of flip at the end? Idon’t know how hedid it - but I’m sure he’d figure out a way …”

You shrunk back fromGenma, prying yourself out of his grasp. “I-I think that’s enoughfor today. I didn’t teach him a-anything like that. The Hokage’sgiven me a list of dances to teach all of you, and - and they’reall pr-pretty basic. Since, uhm, … you know Gai and Rock Lee werethe only ones to complete their lessons. Everyone else got about asfar as you … so it doesn’t matter if - if I teach you the otherdances … because you’d have no one to dance with.”

“Sure I would.”

“You’re …going to dance with Gai? You know he’s in a wheelchair, right? Ikind of … had to teach him … a modified version of the dances -”

“That’s not -no.” Genma huffed, sticking his hands into his pockets. “I meantyou.”

Youwould’ve been able to hear a pin - or senbon - drop in the silenceof the room. Despite being frozen in shock, your eyes snapped open tothe size of plates and your heart shot up to your throat. Did youhear that right? Genma was asking youto the dance? Finally gaining some sense back, you blinked thedryness from your eyes and looked towards the front door, a beam ofearly evening light filtering through the cracks in the wood.

“You - You should,uhm,” you cleared your throat and fiddled with the hem of yourshirt. “You should go.”

“Wha - why? Did Isay something wrong? Did I -” His eyes widened slightly and he tooka step back, his lips pressing tightly together to keep the senbonfrom falling out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, did I do something tooffend you? If I did, then —”

“I can’t,” yousaid suddenly, catching him off guard. “I can’t go with you.”

“Why? Did - oh …”He tried to hide the disappointment on his face. “Somebody elseasked you, huh? I should’ve known. I guess that’s what I get fordropping the lessons. Do you mind my asking - who was it?”

“Huh?”

“Who asked you?Don’t tell me it was Gai. He already has this ‘eternal rivalry’thing going on with Kakashi, I don’t need him starting it with metoo if he finds out I wanted to ask you.”

“No, I - I’m notgoing with anybody.”

“Oh! So you’refree! Wait - then why aren’t you going with me?”

Racking your mindfor a legitimate excuse, you folded your arms across your chest andheaded for the front door. “It’s - It’s a shinobi-only dance.The Hokage told me that b-beforehand. I’m not … a shinobi. Ican’t go. Even i-if I wanted to.”

“Is that all?”

You threw acautionary glance over your shoulder at the man and he lookedrelieved.

“I thought youdidn’t like me or something.”

“It - uhm, I just… I-It’s not professional,” you sputtered, reaching the doorand grasping the handle tightly to steady yourself. “I was hired toteach you, I can’t …”

“Oh, c’mon.Mixing business with pleasure isn’t always bad,” he mused, hisfootsteps echoing in the room as he drew closer. “And I’m surethe Hokage doesn’t mind if you go. I’m sure she’d be glad tohave you there to correct us when we make fools out of ourselves infront of everybody.”

Your hold on thehandle tightened and you wondered if you’d be able to open it intime to make a quick escape into the evening. This was too much foryou to handle. It was bad enough when you were just teaching - butnow he was asking you out, and you still couldn’t tell if he wasmocking you or not.

“Am I making youuncomfortable?” he asked, noting your shaking hands grasping at thedoor handle and twisting it nervously. “I’m not … I’m notgoing to hold you hostage here until you say yes, you know. I - jeez,you’re trembling. Am I scaring you?” Genma took a few large pacesback, throwing up his hands. “I’m sorry! I promise I’m not acreep. I just …” He flipped the senbon in his mouth and lookedaway, a soft pink tinging the bridge of his nose. “I just reallyliked you, was all. I thought you were really cute and …” Hetrailed off, pulling the senbon from his mouth and rolling it betweenhis fingers. “I’ll leave now. Sorry for bothering you.”

Still he stoodbehind you - realizing he couldn’t get past you to get outside. Youreleased the door handle, clenching your hands into fists and turnedaround slowly, your head turned down. “Are you … Are you makingf-fun of me?”

“Huh? What do youmean?”

“Y-You… You dropped out of the class … after three lessons and - andnow you’re showing up for extra practice. And you asked me to thedance, even though it’s only f-for shinobi. Besides, you’re -you’re way too …” You huffed and crossed your arms to keep abarrier between the man and yourself, “You’re way more attractivea-and cool than me. There’s no way you’d want to go anywherewith me. I’m - I’m just a dance instructor. If - If - If you’rejust asking me as a joke, I don’t appreciate it …!”

“No, I’m notdoing anything like that! I really want to go with you! I wouldn’task you as a joke. I mean, I’m not always the nicest but I’m notmean. At least not like that.” Genma took a few slow steps forwardand you looked up to see he was smiling softly, the teasing look gonefrom his face. “Now that we’ve gotten that cleared up … Ifyou’re still worried about the Hokage not letting you attend, thenwe’ll just skip it. We can have our own dance here - just you andme. It wouldn’t bother me any. And if the Hokage asks where wewere, just tell her you were still giving me lessons and we losttrack of time.”

You couldn’t helpbut laugh at that and felt your heart flip at his grin. “If - Ifyou’re serious, then … Okay. Sure. I’ll - I’ll go with you.”

Genma reached hishand and you hesitantly placed your fingers to his palm. “Good. Now… you really need to teach me the rest of the dances. I was bornwith two left feet, you know.”

“Hmm, you seem todance pretty well …”

“That’s onlybecause of your instruction.”

You let out anothersmall laugh and allowed Genma to take your hand in his after hepopped the senbon back between his lips, resting his other palm onyour waist. “So, where did you want to begin?”

Genma squeezed yourwaist, “Why don’t we pick up from where I dropped out?”

“Okay … you’ll- you’ll have to stay close to me. So I can guide you properly.”

“Uh-huh.”

His shoulder rolledunder your hand and he instinctively pulled you closer. Taking along, shaky breath, you managed to say, “So for this one you needto take two steps to the right and then —”

“Don’t tell me,just show me. Go ahead and lead. I’ll follow.”

You nodded,straightening up and looking Genma in the eye. “Okay, then. Butyou’ll have to keep up. I won’t slow down.”

“I wouldn’texpect anything less. After you.”

Youweren’t sure how or why, but the moment the two of you startedmoving, all hesitation left your body and you found yourself glidingaround the room - not sure if he was leading or you were, but itdidn’t matter. Before you knew it, you’d danced well into theevening and had no intention of stopping any time soon.

#scenario #naruto #genma shiranui #shiranui genma #genma x reader #reader fic #reader insert #genma sfw scenario #genma scenario #mine 44 #akimi.writes #idk how to tag #naruto scenario #naruto sfw scenario #litkatkim

122 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Text

Thanksgrieving (Sakumo, Kakashi & Reader - Gen)

I wrote this last night at like midnight. It’s been a while since I was around a 4 year-old, but let me tell you they are cutthroat. Kids don’t hold back. Also sorry for typos. I didn’t feel like going through it a 3rd time.

Words: 2.702 Rating/Warning: General / Mentions of death, grief, mourning Pairings: None (could be SakumoxReader if you squint) Inspo: This series of headcanons by imaginesensei Also on AO3

The hustle and bustle of the house was both appealing and overwhelming. A dozen or more wild-haired, loudmouthed adults crowded into the kitchen, clanging pans over a hot stove and stirring pots of bubbling liquids and throwing caution to the wind as they played with fire and knives in a startling array of talent and haphazardness. The cooking skills of ninja never ceased to amaze you. But this particular evening was different - there was a more familial sense about it all. This was no ordinary dinner, this was Thanksgiving dinner. With Sakumo’s deceased wife’s family. Her side of the family was much different than Sakumo - they were boisterous and invasive and never stopped talking. Six people were in the kitchen trying to cook over each other while five sat around the dining room table, and another half dozen or so lounged about in the living room trading stories everyone had already heard ten times before.

Sakumo had explained that they nearly always had Thanksgiving dinner with his wife’s family, since he had no real connections with his side of the family, and it was nice to spend time with the people who also loved his dearly departed as much as he did. This year he had invited you to the celebration since you had no one to spend Thanksgiving with this time around. He must’ve said something to his wife’s family because they never asked you what your situation was - whether you had no family, or they were busy, or you didn’t want to see them. Sakumo never pressed these issues (it’s why you had befriended him in the first place), but his idea of “Everyone is entitled to their own secrets” must have been a topic of discussion before you arrived because there were very little questions about your personal life. Which you were grateful for, although you did suspect some of the people guessed you and Sakumo were an item, which you weren’t.

The man in question was sitting at the table with his wife’s father, talking about something shinobi related, you were sure. Nothing you were interested in at the moment. Your attention was on the 4 year-old standing at Sakumo’s side, one hand clutching at Sakumo’s pants, eyes narrowed in dislike at the adults clamoring in the kitchen like a flock of gulls at an abandoned picnic on the beach. He did not look pleased. In fact he looked the complete opposite of pleased. He did not want to be there.

You had witnessed this annoyance grow firsthand; when the three of you first arrived, you had been introduced as Sakumo’s friend who was joining their Thanksgiving dinner (received with lots of hugs and nudges and comments about your clothes and your “smart-looking face” and your excellent choice of friends), and then the attention was turned to the 4 year-old Sakumo held.

Poor Kakashi. He hated the attention he received. All the hugs and kisses and cheek-pinching and “oohing” and “ahhing” from aunts and uncle he didn’t care for, and grandparents he only spend holidays around, and cousins he despised for their antics because they were “too old to be acting that way”, even though they had few years more than himself. He’d shown up with his little mask on but it had been quickly discarded by an aunt who was hellbent on giving him a kiss on his unclothed cheek, squeezing his face and gasping, “You look so much like her.” When he tried to pull it back up, Sakumo told him to leave it off since they’d be eating soon anyway - and that they were around family, so he didn’t need to wear it.

It had been nearly an hour since you three arrived and Kakashi’s mood had tanked dramatically in that short span of time. Mostly, he was grumpy that the food wasn’t ready yet and he had to wait to eat. Sakumo kept handing him snacks - pieces of fruit or crackers from the appetizer tray on the table - but it did little to fill Kakashi’s little stomach. He pulled and pulled on Sakumo’s pants, grabbing the tablecloth with his other hand. He tried to tug the cloth down, bringing the snack tray closer to him but Sakumo stopped him, prying the cloth out of Kakashi’s balled up fist.

Sakumo was beginning to look exhausted - more exhausted than normal for a single father who worked full time as a soldier of his village - and you decided it was time for you to take action. Making your way from the living room, gratefully excusing yourself from a rousing conversation about ninja tools with one of Kakashi’s second cousins (who looked older than Sakumo and his father-in-law combined), you walked over to the kitchen table and knelt down beside Kakashi. He gave you a side look that said he did not want you there.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, reaching up to bring the snack tray closer to the edge of the table. “Do you want something off of this?”

Kakashi said nothing, eying you with suspicion and extreme dislike. Clearly you were doing something wrong.

“I know you want dinner,” you said, picking up a small stack of buttery crackers and some cheese slices, “but we’ve got to wait a little bit longer. Why don’t you eat these?”

Kakashi turned away and pawed at Sakumo’s leg again, trying to climb into his lap.

“He’s tired,” Sakumo explained, ruffling Kakashi’s head of silver hair. “He got up early this morning and hasn’t had a nap at all.”

“Oh, I see.” You smiled gently at Kakashi but he continued to give you the stink eye. “I can take him to go lay down for a nap.”

“Thank you, that’d be wonderful. Kakashi, you need to go lie down, okay? And take a nap. When you wake up, the food will be ready and we can eat, okay?”

Kakashi huffed and tried again to climb into his dad’s lap. Sakumo gently pried him away and you picked Kakashi up in your arms. He pressed his fists against your chest, pushing away from you and leaning back to get to Sakumo.

“Don’t be fussy,” Sakumo said calmly, looking directly at Kakashi. “You need to go lie down, okay? And I promise that when you wake up, food will be ready.”

Sighing heavily, Kakashi sat back up and grasped at your shirt collar, reminding you that he was in charge and he didn’t like this but his dad said he needed to do it, and he couldn’t go against his dad. You walked him to one of the guest bedrooms at the back of the house, the noise fading but the smell of rich food still thick on the air. You laid Kakashi down on the bed but when you tried to stand up, you were pulled back down. He clung to your shirt, his dark eyes glaring into yours. Confused, you tried to peel his fingers off of your clothes but he had a vise grip - far too strong for such a young boy.

“Kakashi, you need to let go of me, okay? Let go and then you can go to sleep. Then dinner will be ready and -”

“Don’t want you,” he said.

“Huh?”

His hands gripped tighter and you swore there was malice in his eyes.

“Don’t want you,” he repeated, his dark eyes turning darker. “Not Papa. Not Mama.”

“I - I know I’m not your dad or your mom,” you said, hesitating on the last word. “I’m not trying to be.”

“Mama will come back,” he said angrily, pushing you away and releasing your shirt. “You are not Mama.”

“I know I’m not,” you said, rubbing your throat with one hand. Were all ninja babies this strong? You bit your tongue as you thought of what to say. Of course Kakashi was angry. This would be another holiday without his mother, and here you were - joining his family dynamic without his permission. Kakashi had been dismissive of you before, but once he found out you were attending their Thanksgiving as well, he hadn’t spoken a word to you in over two weeks. Now it made sense. He feared you were trying to replace his mother.

You knelt beside the bed and Kakashi turned on his side, his back facing you. “I’m not trying to be your mom,” you said gently, trying to carefully word your spinning thoughts. “I’m not trying to take her place. Your dad and I are friends only. You know what friends are.”

“Mama will come back,” Kakashi said again, this time his voice cracking softly. “Mama always comes back for me.”

Swallowing hard, you sat on your heels and folded your hands on the bed. “I’m sure she will,” you said, not quite sure what to say in this situation. “I think she’ll … she’ll come to you when you need her the most. She’ll know when that is. All mothers know that.”

Kakashi’s tiny body began to shake and you heard a soft sob rise out of his throat. “Papa said Mama will come back for me in my dreams.”

“He’s right,” you murmured. “Your mom will take care of you from where she is. You can always talk to her in your dreams.”

“But I - I want Mama here.”

“I know you do.”

Kakashi sat up suddenly and wheeled on you, his small face beet red and coated with hot tears. “You don’t know!” he screamed, his lips sticky with tears and spit. “You don’t know Mama! You aren’t her! I want Mama here! Not you!”

You sat back, staring in surprise at the young boy. He glared at you through the tears, not bothering to hide his sobs. “Kakashi, if I could give you your mother back, I would -”

“Good! Go where she is! Bring her back!”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and looked away, ashamed. “I can’t. No one can. But … you can keep her alive in your heart, Kakashi. Didn’t - Didn’t your dad tell you that? No one can really die if you keep them alive in your memories and in the love you give to other people.”

Kakashi sniffled and wiped his eyes with his wrists. “I c-can’t,” he cried, his voice thick with sorrow. I f-forget things … and I o-only love Papa.”

“That’s good enough,” you said, reaching out to wipe a few tears from his cheeks. “You don’t have to have to love a lot of people, and you don’t have to remember everything. You just have to remember who it is that’s important to you. I doubt you’ll forget your mom. She seemed pretty special.”

“She was.”

“And if you ever forget some things about you, you have your dad to talk to. And you have all of those people out there who know about her too. I bet Ojiisan could tell you some pretty good stories about your mom.”

Kakashi buried his face into his hands and sighed heavily. “I don’t like Ojiisan.”

“I guess you don’t have to like him,” you mused. “But you could listen to him. I’m sure he’d be more than glad to tell you some stories.”

Kakashi finally looked up at you, eyes watery and red, some combination of tears and snot bubbling down his face, his hair even more wild than usual. “You aren’t Mama,” he said. Before you could respond, he cut you off by saying, “But you … You knew Mama?”

“Kind of,” you admitted. “I only knew her for a little bit.”

Kakashi nodded and wiped his nose with his arm. “Will you … remember Mama, too?”

“Of course I will.”

“Do you … love people?”

You nodded. “Yes, there are some people I love and care about. You and your dad are two of those people.”

“So she … she’ll live in you too?”

You gave a soft, sad smile and nodded. “Yes, I believe she will.”

Kakashi reached out and grabbed your face, pushing your cheeks with his wet palms. “Help me … keep her ‘live. Please.”

You fought back your own choked sob and nodded. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Kakashi’s large, misty eyes searched yours to see if you were telling the truth. Satisfied with your answer, he let go of you.

“You’d better lay down and take a nap,” you said, turning away to wipe your eyes. “You’ve got to be rested before dinner.”

“You have to wake me up when it’s time to eat,” Kakashi said seriously, laying back down. “Okay?”

“Okay, I will.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll wake you up in time for dinner.”

Kakashi relaxed into the bed and closed his eyes. “Tell Papa I did what he said.”

“You took a nap?”

He shook his head and rolled onto his side, once again turning away from you. “Talked to you.”

“Talked to me? He told you to talk to me?”

He shook his head again. “Papa said to talk to someone … about Mama. To ask about her.” Kakashi sighed again and curled up, wiping his nose once more. “Talked to you … Maybe … Maybe … talk to Ojiisan. Later.”

You patted the bed. “Good. I’m glad … I hope you do talk to him. I’m sure he has a lot of good things to tell you.” AS you stood to go, Kakashi rolled over and his arm shot out, grabbing your wrist and holding you in place.

“Please …” He paused and looked up at you. “Please remember … Please remember Mama. And Papa. And me. I want to … I want to live on, too. In memories.”

You smiled down at him, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Kakashi, you don’t have to worry about that. I can tell now - you’re very special. And so is your dad. People will remember both of you for a very long time. There’ll be lots of stories about both of you. And I’ll be sure to keep you, and your dad, and your mom in my memories, okay?”

Kakashi squeezed your wrist before letting go. “I’ll remember you too.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

Kakashi turned away from you for the final time and let out a dramatic huff. “You can go now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Standing, you gave a final look at the small boy lying on the bed. “I’ll come back in a little while to wake you up for dinner. I hope you have good dreams.”

The boy scoffed. “Mama’s there. Of course they’re good.”

“Right.” You quietly left the room, shutting the door behind you. You joined the lively crowd in the dining room again, sitting down next to Sakumo. He looked over at you, weary but happy.

“Did he go down okay? He can be really troublesome when he’s cranky.”

“He was fine,” you said, giving a smile just as weak but filled with the same happiness. “He wants you to know that he did what you said. And he … He has good dreams.”

A momentary glimmer of sadness passed through Sakumo’s eyes but it was replaced with joy and he reached out, patting your hand. “Good,” he breathed. “That’s very good.”

You both sat in the midst of the chaos, saying nothing for quite a while. Finally Sakumo removed his hand from yours and cleared his throat.

“We can’t be the only ones not helping with dinner,” he said, standing. “That just makes us look lazy. Why don’t we pitch in so we can eat sooner? I’m sure Kakashi would appreciate it.”

“Maybe we should just let him sleep, he seemed pretty tired. I know I promised to wake him up, but …”

Sakumo laughed and moved towards the kitchen. “You don’t know my son. He may have warmed up to you a bit, but he would never forgive you if you let him sleep through Thanksgiving dinner. No, I think we should help and then we’ll get him up. Besides, it’s important for him to be with us for today. Maybe he’ll …” Sakumo glanced down the hallway before he stepped into the kitchen. “Maybe he’ll even listen to a few stories from his grandfather.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking the wooden spoon you were handed and tapping it on the edge of the stove, musing over your conversation with Kakashi. “I think he might.”

#akimi.writes #mine 44 #scenario #kakashi hatake #sakumo hatake #hatake kakashi #hatake sakumo #reader fic #self insert fic #kakashi hatake fic #kakashi fic #kakashi fanfic #sakumo #sakumo fanfic #holiday fic series #hfs part 1 #thanksgrieving #fanfic

38 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 6 years

Text

Coffins (Yamato - Gen)

Summary: Yamato builds coffins. He doesn’t know what else to build. Words: 1.540 Rating/Warnings: Teen / Mentions of death, slight verbal/mental abuse, darker themes Inspiration: My Boy Builds Coffins - Florence + the Machine Part 1 of the Florence Fics Series (Also on AO3)

The first time Yamato uses his Mokuton to build something useful, instead of as a weapon of war, he isn’t sure how he feels. A small voice at the back of his mind says he is wasting his time, using a tool as a toy. He is being careless, foolish, stupid. But another voice tells him that what he is doing is okay. It is good to use something like his Mokuton to help others, rather than harm them. It is good to build, than to destroy.

Still, the doubt lingers and the item - a small wooden top - sits untouched in a drawer for quite some time.

The second time is almost the same. A lightness in his stomach as he creates something good and useful, followed by the tightness in his chest as words of disapproval crowd his mind. The second voice is quiet, but still it is there.

It doesn’t take long for Yamato to realize that the first voice - the one to berate him and insult him and remind him that the Mokuton is a weapon, that he is a weapon - belongs to Danzo. But the second voice is harder to identify. He doesn’t know where such soft, kind words come from. It certainly isn’t himself, and he knows no one else who’d encourage him like this. Yet the voice is still there, letting him know it is okay to create for good.

Yamato learns to build all sorts of things. Chairs and tables, rocking horses and dolls, walls and buildings. He even builds a bench for Kakashi, one of the very few people who’ve been a near constant in his life. But it isn’t the only thing he builds.

Secretly, as the years pass and he watches comrades and dear ones fall in battle, Yamato builds coffins. The first one is very roughly hewn and lopsided - a result of being made during extreme emotion. Fear, anger, sorrow. The first coffin belongs to another member of ANBU and Yamato has never felt more ashamed of something he’s created.

He isn’t sure how to feel about making coffins. They are, in his opinion, halfway between good and bad. They keep bugs out and keep bodies in - they preserve and protect, which is good. But it is a reminder that whoever the coffin is for, is dead. Dead from battle, from disease, from themselves. One way or another, it is the same. Making coffins seems to be on the very edge of a thin line teetering between good and bad like Yamato himself. He still wonders if he is good, or if he is bad. It is far too easy for people in power to twist their stories and make him believe he’s doing good, when he’s not. So he sticks to what he does know, which is that he can create with wood and he’s a ninja of the Leaf Village.

Yamato makes a lot of coffins. Large ones and small ones - since war and death do not care about age or status. He builds coffins for ANBU, for teachers, for genin, even a few civilians. The more he makes, the better he gets. He hates the fact that he is so good at making things like coffins. What he hates even more is that he knows one day he’ll have to make the coffin he dreads most.

One day he makes a plain coffin with splintered edges and dull wood, just large enough to fit the body - his body. He knows one day he’ll need one and if he can make it now, it saves trouble for somebody else later. Even when it’s for himself, he only thinks of other people and how he can make sure he isn’t inconveniencing anyone. He hates the idea of being a bother even after death.

He sets it away in his apartment to forget about it, but he can never forget about it. Death is on his mind constantly. Death surrounds him on every mission. He wonders if somebody will find it after he dies and bury him in it - or if it’ll be forgotten, only to be unearthed weeks or months later when the landlord decides to rent out his empty apartment to somebody else. He wants to leave the wooden box alone, but he can’t help but wipe it down every now and again. He doesn’t want it collecting dust - doesn’t want to get too comfortable with the fact that his daily reminder of death is going untouched. Yes, he’s lived another day - but that just means he’s closer to using the coffin.

Yamato’s habit becomes an obsession and soon he is building coffins for everyone he knows, everyone he has ever interacted with. Some are haphazard, created in the dead of night as anxiety and guilt overtake him and he can’t stop thinking, “One day they’ll need this, one day they’ll need this,” but he hopes and prays that that day isn’t soon. Sometimes he gets his wish - and the coffins go unused for a long time. Sometimes he isn’t too lucky, and only a short time later is the wooden box loaded up and buried deep under the cold earth. There are weeks when he cannot sleep because someone’s died before he’s made their coffin. He feels like he’s failed - he wasn’t ready for them. There’s far too many of them, far too many deaths and far too many coffins to be built.

Some of the coffins he builds are nicer, created under a strange sense of calmness. They have round corners and blended seams and small details that make them unique to their future resident. He doesn’t know how to present them to the people he’s built them for. It is too strange to admit to them he’s thought of their death and, just in case, he’s prepared their eternal resting place out of obsession.

Out of the hundreds of coffins he’s built, there is one that stands out as his treasured work - a morbid favorite that he is both proud of and terrified of. It is the one he was most afraid to create. It is made of smooth, polished wood that reflects like a mirror. It is cold to the touch, but has the softest edges and nearly invisible seams. The inside is just as smooth and smells faintly of the great forests surrounding the village; he’s made it a bit larger than it needs to be. He doesn’t want the person to feel crowded, even in the afterlife. He knows they’ve always felt like they’ve been suffocated - by expectation, by ridicule, by rumor, by life itself. Perhaps, if only in death, he could give them the comfort of having enough space to breathe.

Yamato hides this coffin in his apartment beside his. He is afraid of when this one will be called up and used. He is afraid it’ll be before he gets to use his. He is afraid it’ll be long after he’s buried himself. The coffins go together - one rough hewn and splintering, one glossy and refined. He can find no time to be at peace as the days and months and years drag on and the coffins go unused. He knows one day - one day - one day. He dreams maybe not ever; but he hopes maybe they’ll go the same day. The coffins can’t be separated - he’s decided it now - they have to be buried together.

One day Yamato realizes he hasn’t built anything other than coffins - no toys, no benches, no buildings or walls. Just the dark wooden boxes that lie buried underneath the grass in the village cemetery. He thinks it’s a shame he doesn’t get to see the more lovely ones; and he can’t tell if that’s from the perspective of a craftsman, or something darker. But that same day he realizes he hasn’t heard Danzo’s criticizing voice telling him what he’s doing is wrong or foolish or selfish. In fact, Yamato can’t see what Danzo would complain about - he may not be using his Mokuton for a weapon anymore, but he’s still building things that remind him daily of the fleeting lives of those around him, the causalities of war, of death and destruction and all things evil.

And one day, as he’s wiping down the glossy surface of the second coffin shoved into his tiny apartment, he realizes he knows that second voice. The one that encourages him and lets him know that what he is doing is okay; that he can use his powers to create for good. It is a voice he’s heard so many times over the years; a voice that hangs on the air and is ingrained into every mental conversation he replays.

It is Kakashi’s voice.

And Yamato hasn’t realized until now, hasn’t realize this voice that has been taking care of him all these years is the same voice that has given him commands, guided him through missions, talked to him until the early hours as he - as they both - recovered from nightmares. He doesn’t know how he missed it, how he couldn’t tell it was his dear friend, especially since the voice was loudest when he was polishing his treasured piece - his magnum opus - the most elegant coffin - Kakashi’s coffin.

42 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 7 years

Text

Puppy Love

Kakashi Week 2017 - Prompt: “I hate to do this, but please call me Hokage-sama this time”

Not feeling this one 100%, but I think it’s the best it’s going to get. Is Kakashi slightly OOC? Idk, I haven’t seen him as Hokage yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rating: General Words: 2.416 Read on ao3

Kakashi could barely contain the gasp of surprise when his eyes landed on the tiny puppy walking through the crowds towards one of the food stands. Iruka’s words fell on deaf ears as Kakashi gawked at the tiny animal, its paws padding along the dirt road, its little ears flopping around as it bounded eagerly to keep at the heels of its owner. Not even Naruto’s extremely loud voice in his ear was able to draw his attention away. As soon as the pup was swallowed up in the legs of the crowd, Kakashi turned to Iruka, his eyes wide and serious.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“What? I - Kakashi! I’m in the middle of going over some really important things that you need to —”

“Do you see where we are?” Kakashi cut in, motioning towards the open street lined with booths. “You showed up in my office to talk to me, and I left my office and you followed. And you brought Naruto with you. If I’m not in my office, then I don’t have to listen to anything work-related.”

“That’s not how that works!” Iruka shouted, clutching his stack of papers in his hands. “You’re Hokage now, and as that, you must —”

“Keep your voice down - I don’t want people to …” Kakashi stopped, whipping around to see if he could see the dog. “Wait, that’s a great idea! Thanks, Iruka.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto spoke up, folding his arms across his chest and scrunching up his face, “what are you looking at? Oh! Did you see a cute girl? Ha, even as the Hokage you’re just as perverted as ever —”

“Follow me,” Kakashi said, hurrying off. “This’ll only work with you two. I don’t look the part.”

“What do you mean?” Iruka asked, gathering up the rest of his papers and rushing after the other man. “Look what part?”

Instead of answering, Kakashi slipped into the crowd of festival-goers. Iruka growled in annoyance, turned to Naruto and barked, “Follow him! I have to get through these papers before this weekend!”

The two rushed after Kakashi, trying their best to catch up to the man who seemed to have disappeared among the sea of bodies. Naruto hesitated in front of a takoyaki stand but Iruka grabbed his collar and shoved him forward. ”Keep going! He’s given me the slip one too many times; but not this time! He can’t avoid his responsibilities forever.”

“There he is!” Naruto called, pointing above the crowds at the silver head of hair moving swiftly through two groups of people heading in opposite directions. “He’s near the barbecue pork stand - oh, that sounds really good… Iruka-sensei, can’t we stop for something to eat?”

“If you can catch Kakashi, then I’ll buy you Ichiraku —”

Naruto sprinted down the road, leaving Iruka behind in a cloud of dust. When he caught up to the Copy Ninja, Naruto reached out and grabbed his arm. “Sensei! What are you doing? I mean, I understand not wanting to do paperwork, but I think you’re annoying Iruka-sensei — and he’s scarier than Grandma Tsunade when he’s angry.”

“Shh,” Kakashi said, throwing up his index finger.

“Wha —”

“I said shh!”

Naruto huffed and turned to see where Kakashi’s gaze had landed. When he saw a pair of long legs dressed in sensible heels and framed by the short hem of a summer dress, Naruto let out a devious snicker and nudged Kakashi in the side.

“I knew it! You’re still an old perv, sensei! Don’t worry, I’m sure even Iruka wouldn’t complain about her. Do you know her? She doesn’t look like a ninja —”

Iruka grabbed Kakashi’s shoulder tightly and pulled him around, looking at him right in the eyes with a deadly glare. “You - can’t - run - forever - Kakashi -!”

“I have a favor I need to ask of you,” the silver-haired man cut in, obviously not paying attention to what the younger ninja was saying.

“Wh-What? A favor?”

“Yes, I …” Kakashi paused, looking up towards the sky. Naruto looked up too but saw nothing. “I hate to do this, but …”

“No you don’t,” muttered Iruka, shoving his papers under his arm. “What is it?”

“Please call me Hokage-sama this time.”

“ … what?”

Kakashi’s face burned hot with shame as he turned back towards the crowd and spotted the puppy sitting at the feet of its owner, who was resting at an outdoor table of a cafe. “I’m going to walk by that table and I’d like f-for you … t-to please call me … Hokage-sama. Just this once!”

“What are you up to?” Iruka frowned, scanning the crowds. His eyes fell on the young woman sitting at the table, her attention pulled into the pages of a book. He sighed irritably and planted his feet firmly in the ground. “Absolutely not. I am not going to be part of some - some - some scheme for you to flirt with a civilian! If you want to talk to her, then go do it! But don’t pull us into it!”

“What are you talking about?” Kakashi gave Iruka a puzzled look. “Just - nevermind. Naruto!”

“Yes, sensei?”

“You do it. When I walk by the table, call me Hokage-sama.”

“Uh … sure thing.”

Kakashi took a deep breath to steady himself, straightened out the front of his flak jacket and started off at a moderate pace towards the cafe, Naruto by his side.

“Okay,” Kakashi hissed out of the corner of his mouth, “you can start talking now.”

Naruto threw his hands to the back of his neck and grinned widely. “Jeez, Kakashi-sensei you sure seem nervous. This girl’s got you acting all funny! I didn’t think she was that cute, but —”

“Hokage-sama, just call me Hokage-sama,” Kakashi muttered frantically as they got closer to the table.

“Huh? Oh, right. So, Hokage-sama, thanks for running off, actually - Iruka was going to try to get me to do paperwork too and -”

“Naruto, call me Hokage-sama now —”

“— and I really didn’t want to. Also, I think you’ve gotten slower in your old age! I was able to catch up to you easily! Good thing too, because I’m hungry - and broke - but Iruka-sensei said he’d buy me —”

“Naruto, now —”

“Huh? Now what?”

“Naruto!” Kakashi stopped and turned, his eyes narrowed threateningly at the younger ninja. “You’re supposed to call me Hokage-sama when we’re passing by the table! So she can hear you say it!”

“I thought I did that —”

Kakashi turned Naruto and pointed at the spot they’d been when Naruto had called him ‘Hokage’. “Don’t do it when we’re 10 feet away! Do it right in front of her! Okay? Now we have to go back and do it again.”

“Jeez, sensei. You must really like this girl! You’re putting a lot of effort into this.”

“Just - you know what? I’m going to go stand in front of the table and you can just come up to me and address me as Hokage-sama.”

“Alright.”

Kakashi strode over to the table, turning so his back was to the woman, and crossed his arms with a subtle nod to the blonde ninja. Naruto quickly hurried over, grinning widely.

“Hey! Hokage-sama! What’s up?”

Kakashi sensed the woman behind him stiffen and turn her head slightly towards him. Under her breath she muttered, “Hokage …?”

“Naruto,” he replied calmly, giving a more definite nod to the boy. “How are your missions going?”

“Huh? Mi - oh! Fine, Hokage-sama! Just fine! You sure assign a lot of them, though, since you’re the Hokage!”

Subtle, Kakashi sighed. If Naruto threw around the title too much then it’d seem fake. Kakashi gave a gentle but firm pat to Naruto’s shoulder.

“That’s good to hear! You know, I’m actually kind of busy right now - but if you want to talk more, feel free to stop by my office anytime, alright?”

“Hu —?” Before Naruto could finish questioning why Kakashi was stopping him, he was shoved away in the direction of a fuming Iruka. Kakashi threw a glance at the girl who was sitting up straight now, her eyes focused on him. When she noticed him looking at her, she fumbled with her book and dropped it in her lap, giving a nervous giggle.

“H-H-Hi!” she stuttered, feeling her cheeks burn as Kakashi turned to face her. She gave a slight bow where she sat, her hands trembling against the cover of her book. “Did I … I mean, not to pry but … did I hear that right? Are you really … the Hokage?”

“Hm? Yes - I’m the Rokudaime Hokage.”

The woman let out another halting laugh and stood up suddenly, giving a deeper bow. “Wow! I - I’ve heard so much about the Hokage - most of my clients are ninja! But I never thought I’d meet him, er, you … This is such an honor —”

“Who’s this?”

She looked up to see Kakashi knelt in front of her, eagerly patting the head of the small puppy at her feet. Taking this as an opportunity to get to know him better, the woman crouched beside him and smiled warmly. “This is Kibble, isn’t he just the cutest? I adopted him about a month ago. Do you have dogs?”

“Ah, yes, a few.”

“That’s wonderful! Maybe,” she pushed her hair out of her face and casually pets the puppy’s back, hoping maybe hers and Kakashi’s hands would brush against one another, “maybe … they can have a play date?”

“Hm,” was all he said. He continued to scratch behind the small dog’s floppy ears, raking his short nails over its head and under its chin, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled genuinely from behind his mask. The puppy seemed to be just as in love and leapt up, planting its much too large front paws on Kakashi’s thigh, and buried its head into his arm, trying to fling itself fully into Kakashi’s chest.

“Wow! He really likes you,” the girl sighed, catching cautionary glimpses of a rather distracted Kakashi. “Now I really think our dogs ought to have a play date! We could - uhm, you know - m-meet here at the cafe, too. You with your dogs … me with mine … together … j-just a regular old doggy play date.”

Kakashi was not listening. At all. He was completely enraptured with the tiny warm body nestling against his inner thigh, wiggling excitedly between his legs and playfully leaping on his sandal, nibbling on Kakashi’s exposed toes.

“So … do you have people who walk your dogs for you? Since I’m sure you’re so busy as Hokage!” She gave another laugh, reaching out to pet her own dog only to be met with the pup slithering away to hide behind Kakashi. “Oh, uh - well … Guess he likes you … a lot …”

Kakashi was now cradling the puppy in his arms and it was giving him eager kisses all across his mask, and even leaving a sloppy trail of affection over his eye, making the hair of his eyebrow stick flat against his forehead. The dog wiggled upwards and planted its paws on Kakashi’s shoulders, nipping at his ear and tugging at the dark cloth of his hitai-ate.

“What are you dogs’ names?” the woman asked, trying to hide the exasperated sigh crawling up her throat.

Now, somehow, the puppy was lying across Kakashi’s head, its back paws kicking against Kakashi’s forehead as it scrambled for purchase in his wild silver locks. Kakashi let out a soft laugh and let the puppy roll off of his head and into his awaiting arms.

For the next five minutes, the woman tried with increasing frustration to get the attention of the Hokage, but to no avail. His total attention was on the loving dog in his arms, nuzzled up under his chin, giving wet kisses to his clothed neck. The young woman had never felt such jealousy towards a dog before.

Iruka and Naruto were standing a ways off, staring in bewilderment.

“Did he …” Naruto began, watching as Kakashi brushed off the woman’s comments and kept snuggling up with the animal. “Did he use us … to pet a dog?”

Iruka felt his eye twitch and he gripped the papers in his hands tight enough to crumple them. “Unbelievable … We’ll never get him back in the office.”

“I’ll go get him,” offered Naruto as he slipped from Iruka’s side and headed for the crouching jonin and the irate woman. “Hey, uh, Hokage-sama?”

The woman’s eyes snapped to Naruto and he reeled back, feeling the fury behind her glare. Oh, Kakashi-sensei, if this woman ever sees you again …

“Hm? Oh, Naruto. What are you still doing here?” Kakashi asked, seemingly pulled out of a daydream.

Ugh, talk about puppy love, Naruto thought, frowning. “You’re really needed back at the office! You are the Hokage, after all.”

“Right …” Kakashi sighed heavily, turned around to give the puppy another squeeze and a gentle pat between its ears. “See you around,” he said as he stood and the woman scooped up the dog in her arm, glaring daggers at the oblivious ninja. Grabbing her book, she stormed off in the opposite direction, scaring a crowd of people into parting like the Red Sea when she headed towards them.

“I don’t think she wants to see you again,” Naruto said off-handedly, watching as the woman kicked up a dust storm behind her.

“Huh? I was talking to the dog. Why? Did she say something about meeting up?”

Iruka joined them and shoved the papers in Kakashi’s slobber-covered face. “Here! You need to go over these papers as soon as possible. You still have a ton of missions to assign, reports to read, and there’s a treaty you’re supposed to go over before the end of this week —”

Kakashi rolled his eyes back up to the sky, tuning out the irritating list of things he had to do once he got back to the office. He knew Naruto and Iruka meant well, but they both could be so annoying. He hardly noticed that their small group was moving again, back towards the Hokage Building, back to stacks of unfinished paperwork, back to not finding time to read Icha Icha, back to being locked up in a stuffy room all day. He was already dreading it - but more than that, he was already dreaming of the next time he’d get to see Kibble.

#kakashi week #kakashifest #kakashi week 2017 #mine 44 #akimi.writes #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #Kakashi Hatake Fanfic #kakashi hatake fic #kakashi fic #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi fanfic #puppy love #naruto uzumaki #iruka umino #umino iruka #uzumaki naruto #prompt: hokage-sama #prompt: please call me hokage-sama

132 notes · View notes

sufferthesea · 7 years

Note

Hi again! Could you please do another scenario with Genma with a shy reader that's not a ninja and it's there first date but she ends up getting sick and he surprises her by coming to take care of her?

This was perfectly timed because I always get sick in October-November. Now if only I had a cute ninja boy coming to take care of me while I sat on the couch and watched movies all day. /sigh/

Thank you for the request!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! Please let me know if you think my scenarios/headcanons are too long! Also I literally just figured out how to write Genma, idk how he’d text 😂 I did my best.

Words: 3.144Rating: General Pairing: Genma x Reader

Thiswasn’t how it was supposed to go. When Genma asked you out twoweeks ago you had been so excited that you were near to crying - butyou were also incredibly nervous. Genma was one of the mostinteresting guys you’d ever met, and you felt as if you were theequivalent of a talking potato sack. Not to mention you weren’teven a ninja so why onearth he’d even bother with a civilian was beyond you. Someone ofhis caliber should really be looking for a girl just as strong andknowledgeable and brave and outgoing ashim. (You’d barely managed to squeak out a “yes” when he askedyou to dinner, and it took every ounce of strength just to look himin the eyes when he spoke to you.) He must’ve read the confusion onyour face because almost immediately after asking you out, he said:

“You know, you’rereally cute when you act shy. And I figured if I didn’t ask youout, we’d never get anywhere.”

You’dthought about that for the last fortnight, your face bright red and ashy giggle falling from your lips whenever his face appeared in yourmind. But among the excitement was a bit of fear and the typicalinsecurity you often faced. You’d never really gone on a datebefore and certainly had never been asked out by someone like Genma.He’d suggested something simple - just a small dinner at a curryshop outside of the village. He said it was a cute little place andhe was sure you’d like it because it was out of the way and fewpeople went all the way out there to eat. It was nice of him to thinkof you like that, but there was still so much pressure. Would youlike the food there? What if it was too spicy? What if he thought youate too much? Or not enough? The thought of someone watching you eatwas a little overwhelming. And what if - did you dare to evenentertain this thought so early in the relationship? - what if at theend of the night he tried to kiss you? What if he kissedyou and you had curry breath? You’dabsolutely die on the spot.

Unfortunately,stressing out for the last fourteen days had done the exact oppositeof helping your health and you woke up the day of the date with asore throat, runny nose, and pounding headache. You had somehowstressed yourself into a cold,and now you were even more miserable than before. (Of course itsurely had nothing todo with the fact that you’d left open the bedroom window the nightbefore and had kicked off your blanket in the middle of the night…)

“I can’t go on adate l-like this,” you shuddered, pulling a thick woolen blanketover your shoulders and sneezing into a tissue. “I can’t l-lethim see me like this.”

Forlornly,you looked towards the clock hanging on the wall and your heartdropped. It was already noon; six hours until you were supposed tomeet Genma at the gates so he could walk you to the restaurant. Thiswasn’t good. It’s not like you could take some magic pill to getbetter immediately, and you were certain that if you decided to go onthe date then something mortifying would happen - you’d sneeze onhim, or go into a coughing fit while eating, or you’d get himsick. You couldn’t risk it - not when you’d somehow managed tograb his attention in the first place. You weren’t going to ruin itby being grossly sick all over him in a restaurant. There was onlyone option, and it killed you to even think of it.

You’d have tocancel the date.

It’d be a lie tosay you didn’t cry for a few moments as you convinced yourself thatit’s what was best. Did you want to cancel the date or did you wantto show up and gross him out?

Gathering whateverremaining strength you had, you dug your phone out of your sweatpantspocket and went through your list of contacts before you foundGenma’s number. He’d given it to you when he asked you out, butyou hadn’t texted him before. Would your first text to him reallybe canceling the date? Sometimes the universe sucked.

Steadying your handsenough to text out a legible message, you pressed send and waitedwith bated breath, the pressure behind your eyes and in the bridgeof your nose growing.

Genma - can’tmake it. im sick. rain check?

Itwasn’t good to sit there and wait so you placed your phone on thefarthest part of the coffee table and curled up on the couch, feelingawful. Everything was starting to ache and you weren’t sure whatyou should do to feel better. Going to the hospital was out of thequestion - you weren’t dying,you just had a cold. And you didn’t want to be a burden on anybodyelse by asking them to come over and take care of you. So you werestuck with the only solution - suffer alone until you were better.

Your heart jumped atthe sudden buzzing of your phone vibrating on the table and you leaptup to grab it, hands shaking as you eagerly read the message fromGenma.

That sucks. We’llreschedule. Hope u feel better soon

He hoped you feltbetter soon?! That was so nice of him! Before you could finishgushing over the simple text, a second one came through.

Let me know ifthere’s anything I can do to help

Yourfingers moved quickly to type that he didn’t have to do anything,but then you stopped. He was asking - offering - to help you throughthis dreadful time. Would it be ruder to accept his invitation andpossibly get him sick, or to decline it and spare him the vision ofyou stuffed up and snotty? It really didn’t matter if you were at arestaurant or at home, you didn’t wanthim to witness you blowing your nose or hacking or just looking likeyou’d crawled out some Pit Of Disgusting. You hated to admit it,but you got kind of whiny whenever you were ill and it was prettyembarrassing. With a little bit of heartache, you finished the textand sent it.

No, that’s okay- thx tho. I appreciate it

Almost immediately,another response sent your phone buzzing in your hands.

Anything for you;)

Youvaulted the phone away quickly, your body instantly burning hot, asurprised laugh escaping your mouth. “Wh-What? What was that?”you wheezed, pulling the blanket up to your face and staring inelation at the phone now lying on the floor across the room. “He -He put a - a winking face! What does th-that mean? Does he … oh mygosh.” Hiding under the blanket, you allowed yourself to gigglechildishly and closed your eyes tight. Genma’s perfect face wasthere - a smile gracing his features. He put a winkingface! That was good, right? Andhe’d said “anything for you”. Anythingfor you. Anything for you.How did he mean it? Would he really do anything for you? Your stomachgrowled and you grimaced; maybe you should have asked him to bringyou something to eat …

The phone buzzedagain and you practically threw yourself across the room to grab it,scrambling to clutch it close your face and read the message.

U allergic toanything?

Confused, you rereadthe message and checked to see who it was from. Genma had sent it,that was certain but … Did he think you’d called off the datebecause you had had an allergic reaction or something? Or - did hethink you’d canceled the date because you were allergic to curry?You were legitimately sick and this boy thought you were skipping outbecause you didn’t like his taste in food?

No - im good. Notcurry!! hahaha I was looking forward to eating there /:

Thatwas good enough, right? Assure him that you weren’t avoiding himbecause of that little restaurant, and that you actually didwant to go with him.

Same. Oh well.Maybe next week.

Then, a secondlater:

What r ursymptoms? Like are u coughing and sneezing? Sore throat? Or somethingelse?

Was he concernedthat your illness would still be there by next week when you actuallywent on your date? You shifted on the ground, resting on your elbowsas you thought over what to say. The point of canceling the date wasto keep him from knowing what you were going through at the moment.

Youtyped slowly, regretting every letter of your text: headache,sore throat, runny nose, congestion, sinus, everything hurts!!! ))):I feel like death tbh

Five minutes passedof absolute silence and your chest twisted in embarrassment. Had yousaid too much? You knew it - you’d messed this up. No good. Genmawould surely ditch you and go for some girl with a perfect immunesystem who looked absolutely glamorous even when she was suffering,and certainly didn’t complain about it. When another five minutespassed without a response, you pulled yourself back onto the couchand cuddled under your blanket and sighed heavily. Why did it have tohappen now?! Today of all days.

The phone buzzedagainst your chest and you yelped, jolting upwards and dropping it tothe ground. Fumbling around for it, you grabbed another tissue fromthe nearly empty box on the table and dabbed at your sore nose.

Grape or orange?

Nowthis was getting weird. Your response was only: what?

Genmaswiftly replied: Do you prefer grape or orange? Or cherry??

Uh… I don’t …care????? What is this for?

Insteadof answering, he simply asked: did u still want to go tothe curry place next week? I’ll pick u up next time. What’s uraddress?

Stumped, you staredat the glaring screen in your hands. What was going on? He was actingstrange. But your cold-infested brain wasn’t willing to work withyou to figure out what he was doing so you merely texted back youraddress. He stopped responding and you wondered if it was a mistaketo tell him where you lived. It was almost one o’clock and youreyes were feeling the weight of your illness. Sniffling into yourhandful of tissues, you curled up on your side and let yourself fallasleep.

An hour later youwere woken up by heavy knocks at your front door. It startled youawake and you rolled off of the couch, dazed and utterly lost as towhat was happening. Scrambling to your feet, you wiped drool off ofyour face and ambled over to the door, your voice croaking in pain asyou muttered, “Coming …”

Groggily, you pulledopen the door and looked blearily out into the bright world. Youshaded your eyes and squinted at the shadowed figure filling yourdoorway.

“You look as badas you said you feel,” came a voice.

Your eyes widenedand you dropped your hand, finally realizing that it was none otherthan Genma standing at your door.

“Wh-What are youd-doing here?!” you shouted, throwing your hands up to coveryourself although there was nothing to be covered. You were alreadydressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, and although your hair waswild and uncombed and your nose was as red as the swirl on Genma’sjonin jacket, you weren’t indecent. Still it was almost shameful tobe standing before such a beautiful man looking like you’d climbedout of a dumpster recently.

“Aren’t yougoing to invite me in?” Genma asked, a small smirk playing on hislips.

Youglanced back at your small apartment and you could almost feelyour cold lingering on the air. He didn’t want to go in there. “Uh… you’ll … you’re gonna get sick -!”

“Don’t worry, Igot it covered.” Genma reached into one of the half dozen bags hewas carrying and pulled out a white surgical mask, using one hand tomaneuver it onto his face. You’d only just now noticed his senbon was nowhere to be seen. “See? Now I won’t catch whatever youhave. Heh, do I look like Kakashi now?”

“What?”

“He… you’re not a ninja. Right. You’ve probably seen him around.Kind of weird … got hair out to herethat’s silver, always has a mask on, always reading that orangebook.”

“No, I - I knowwho you’re talking about. I m-mean … What is all that?” Youmotioned to the different bags Genma was carrying and he grinned fromear to ear (not that you could see it).

“Well I figuredsince you weren’t up to going out tonight, we could have a nightin. Is that alright?”

“What? Really?”

“Sure.” He heldup a few bags with a local market’s logo across it. “This is somemedicine - I got three different kinds, since none of them coveredall of your symptoms. I also got you some tissues - it sounded likeyou’d need them.”

You looked away andblushed, trying to stealthily dab at your running nose with acrumpled tissue. “Th-Thanks.”

“Noproblem. I also got us dinner - or lunch, I guess.” He held up two paper bags from arestaurant you’d passed by before. “I wasn’t entirely sure whatyou eat, so I got a few different things.” He then shook a fewother bags strung along his arm, “And then I grabbed us somedrinks. Nothing alcoholic, though. Didn’t think you needed to betipsy and sick. Iwouldn’t make you wake up tomorrow hungover with a cold.”

You stared inabsolute awe at the man, a happy smile spreading across your face. “W… Wow! That’s so n-nice of you! I d-didn’t think … I thoughtyou’d …”

Hecocked an eyebrow and showed you the bags again. “Listen, Iappreciate the thanks but canI come in? I’ve walked all over the village with these.”

“Oh! R-Right.Sorry.” You stepped aside to let him in and he glanced around yourapartment.

“This is cute. Youlive alone?”

“Y-Yes …”

“Good. I don’twant anyone disturbing our date.” He dropped the bags onto thecoffee table and looked back at you. “Actually, I just don’t wantto share my food with anyone but you.”

A dry, croakygiggle jumped out of your throat before you could stop it and youcovered your face in shame. Genma gave a soft laugh himself and wavedyou over to the couch.

“Don’t beembarrassed; you’re sick. Come on. I also bought tea leaves to makeyou something hot to drink, since I’m sure you could use it. Whydon’t you put a movie in and I’ll get started on making the tea?”

Defeated, youcrumpled to the floor in front of the small media cabinet that yourtelevision was sitting on. You only had a few DVDs and you’dwatched them all to death, but if picking a movie meant you’d getyour date after all then you’d bite your tongue and suck it up. Youchose one of the more exciting films - something you’d seen once inthe village’s theater and had liked enough to purchase - and pushedthe disc into the DVD player. By the time you made it back to yourseat on the couch, Genma was arriving with two mugs full of hot tea.He handed you one and your entire body warmed with the heat of thecup. He pushed the edge of your blanket out of the way and sat downnext to you, setting aside his cup and digging through the plasticbags on the table.

“Here’s themedicine,” he said as he deposited one bag into your lap and pulledanother bag closer.

Whenyou looked through it you found three different flavors of cold syrup - orange, grape, and cherry. So that’swhat he was talking about.

“And here’s thetissues.” He then opened the two paper bags and pulled out steamingtake-out cartons. “Just tell me what you want and you can have it.”

Silently, youadmired the man beside you as he shuffled around the cartons and setup a line of bottled drinks. He caught your eye and raised aneyebrow, and you could sense the questioning smile hiding behind thesurgical mask.

“What?”

“Noth-Nothing!”You held your cup tighter and brought it to your face, breathing inthe earthy scent of tea. “I just … really appreciate this.Th-Thank you.”

“No problem. Iwasn’t going to pass on an opportunity to go on a date with you.Even if it’s …” He motioned around the apartment and shrugged.“I didn’t really feel like walking all the way out to that curryplace tonight anyway.”

Feeling a bit bold,you gave him a serious look (which was made fairly intimidating withthe deep bags under your eyes and the raw skin around your nose) andsaid, “Well don’t think - uhm - that you’ll get out of t-takingme there one day … You promised me a-a date there … and I expectt-to go there.”

Genma pulled downthe mask to reveal his broad grin, his eyes locked on yours. “We’llgo when you feel better. Promise.”

You smiled back andpressed the rim of the hot cup to your lips. “You know - you didn’thave to go through all of this for me.”

“I said anything,didn’t I?”

“Huh?”

Genma pulled out apair of disposable chopsticks and broke them apart, handing you oneof the take-out containers. “I said I’d do anything for you,right? I meant it. Mostly. Some things I wouldn’t - … Anythingwithin reason, I guess. This was no bother. This the movie you wantto watch?”

He changed thesubject so quickly your foggy brain had a hard time keeping up. “Yeah… uhm, thank - thank you.”

Genma gave you asideways glance and a small smile pulled at his mouth. “You’dbetter stop talking before you lose your voice. We won’t be able totalk when we go out next week. Then what’ll we do?”

Shrinking into thewarmth of the blanket, you nodded. “Uh - oh, well … What if I’mnot feeling better by next week?”

“Oh, you will,”Genma said as he relaxed into the couch, kicking his legs up onto thecoffee table. “I’m gonna take care of you until you feel better,so you’ll have no excuse for canceling our next date.”

Blushing hotly, younodded and smiled down into your tea. You were starting to think thatmaybe being sick wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#scenario #naruto #genma shiranui #shiranui genma #genma x reader #genma shiranui x reader #reader fic #reader insert #genma sfw scenario #genma scenario #naruto scenario #naruto sfw scenario #litkatkim #akimi.writes #mine 44

91 notes · View notes