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honeysucklebuttons · 1 year

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wow my atention span is so bad i forgot i wanted to ask something literally months ago afjaiosjg , for your "as the red maples bask" fic (which i loved it made me so emotional) in one part gonta mentions "There was… a time when it not just Gonta, but he rather not talk about it right now if that's okay…" and wanted to ask what did he mean by this 👀

Hello my dear saturn!!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the emotions!!! To answer your question, I do this thing in my writing a lot where I leave some details intentionally vague for you to fill in the blank, and this is one of them!

You can take that line so many different ways, and they're all fine by me! He's old now, he could mean someone he dated, or married, or took under his wing, or almost became someone close to - maybe they broke up, or they died, or they moved, went ballistically unhinged, I mean the possibilities here are endless! Whichever suits your fancy works just fine <3 I didn't have any one thing in mind other than Gonta not being completely alone his whole life!

#thanks for asking!!!!!#saturncanis #ask meh #as the red maples bask #elliottfic

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doumadono · 22 days

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Once again, congratulations, my dear ♥ I'd like to order a mint-vanilla cone topped with M&Ms and maple syrup, please. Could I get a fantasy AU with Dragon!Kirishima and Dragon!Bakugo? Something really sweet would be perfect!

A/N: Thank you very much for all your support over the years, my dear! I hope you'll enjoy these headcanons I prepared for you ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

Kirishima

Kirishima lifts his head, his crimson scales shimmering in the fading light. His crimson eyes light up with affection as he sees you entering his den, and a rumble of contentment escapes his throat. "Hey, Y/N," he greets you warmly, unfurling his wings to welcome you. "I've been waiting for you."

You chuckle softly, running your fingers along his snout affectionately. "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

Kirishima's tail swishes excitedly as he leans in closer, nudging you gently with his massive head. "I was hoping you could help me with something," he says, his voice filled with anticipation. "My mane is getting a bit unruly, and my claws could use a polish. Would you mind lending me a hand?"

You grin at his request, feeling a surge of affection for the gentle giant before you. "Of course, Kirishima. I'd be happy to help you out."

He eagerly lowers his massive head, allowing you to run the bristles through his vibrant red mane. With each stroke, he emits a pleased rumble, basking in the sensation of your gentle touch. "Feels good," he purrs, his voice a deep, resonant melody that fills the cavern. As you delicately brush through the thick strands, he leans more into your touch, closing his eyes in bliss. "Your hands are like magic," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble of contentment. "Your touch always soothes me," he murmurs softly as you run your fingers through his mane, untangling any knots with gentle precision. "I'm grateful to have you by my side."

As you tenderly attend to him, Kirishima emits deep, rumbling purrs akin to a contented feline. It's his way of expressing gratitude and affection, a sign that your presence brings him immense joy. When you're finished with his mane, you move to work on his claws.

Being a dragon means relying a lot on the sharp claws. With all the activities dragons engage in, these claws are prone to damage. The best way to prevent further cracking and maintain them is by attending to them regularly. That's why dragon!Kirishima allows you to help him polish them.

Despite his formidable claws capable of tearing through stone, Kirishima allows you to polish them with the utmost gentleness, being careful to not hurt you during the process. He extends his massive paw with claws, allowing you to polish them to a dazzling shine. He watches you work with fascination, marveling at your skill and dedication. He watches with fascination as you buff away any imperfections. "You have such a delicate touch," he observes, admiration evident in his tone.

"I brought you some special polish today," you say with a smile, holding up a bottle of shimmering liquid. "It's a special oil, made of herbs that helps to strengthen nails, so I hope it'll work just fine with you. Let's make those claws shine like diamonds, shall we?"

He enjoys it when you rub herbal oils into his claws, massaging them slowly. He believes strongly it's the most comforting sensation he experiences as a dragon (aside from making love with you!)

Despite his imposing stature, Kirishima isn't above indulging in playful behavior with his human mate. He'll nuzzle you gently, nudging you with his snout to coax a laugh from your lips. "You're so adorable when you laugh," he rumbles, his eyes gleaming with warmth.

You're always amazed by the strength and power Kirishima possesses as a dragon, but you're even more enamored by his gentle and caring nature.

The act of grooming becomes a sacred ritual between dragon!Kirishima and you, a time for you to connect on a deeper level. As you tend to his mane and claws, he basks in your presence, cherishing the intimacy of your shared moments. "I feel so lucky to have you," he confesses, his eyes shining with affection.

Bakugo

Upon reaching the den, you found Bakugo resting on a bed of soft moss, his scaled form coiled comfortably. He raised his head, crimson eyes gleaming in the fading light as he greeted you with a rumbling purr. "What took you so long, idiot?" Bakugo grumbled, though the affection in his voice was evident.

"Hey there, you big brute," you chuckled, not paying attention to his wry remark, brushing a hand against his sleek scales. "Sorry, got caught up with something. How was the hunt?"

Bakugo's expression shifted, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Successful, as always, woman! What were you thinking?! Brought back enough for a feast."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of the raw, blooded meat he had to bring to his den, but before you could discuss it, you noticed something that made you pause. "Bakugo, your scales," you said, furrowing your brow. "They're covered in dirt and grime. You need to clean them."

Bakugo's gaze narrowed, a growl rumbling in his throat. "I don't need to do anything. I'm fine. I bathed in the lake."

You shook your head, undeterred. "Come on, Katsuki. You know how important it is to keep your scales clean."

He scoffed, clearly not amused by your suggestion. "I can take care of myself just fine. I don't need you nagging me about it, idiot. I don't need to be pampered like some weakling," he grumbled.

You knew how to approach his offended, grumpy ass. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes as you crossed your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Oh, really? Because I seem to recall you bragging about how you're the mightiest dragon around. Surely, the mightiest dragon can handle a little cleaning."

Bakugo's jaw clenched, irritation flashing across his features. "Fine, woman. If it'll shut you up, I'll let you clean my scales. Goddammit! I can't have a quiet moment, even in my own fucking den!"

You grinned triumphantly, knowing you had won this round. "Great! Let's get started then." As you set to work with a cloth you carried in your woolen bag, gently scrubbing away the dirt and grime from Bakugo's scales, you couldn't help but notice the way his tense muscles gradually relaxed beneath your touch. You marvel at his scales texture, smooth yet with a slight roughness. You feel the dirt and grime loosen under your touch. His scales are warm to the touch, radiating heat like the sun itself. With each stroke, you're careful not to apply too much pressure, mindful of his sensitive skin beneath.

Bakugo grumbles impatiently at first, shifting restlessly as you work.

You take your time, working methodically from one section to the next, ensuring that every inch of Bakugo's scales is cleaned to perfection. As you climb him to reach his back, you encounter a particularly stubborn patch of dirt, embedded deep between the ridges of his scales. With a determined frown, you scrub harder, eliciting a growl of discomfort from Bakugo.

"Watch it, human," he warns, his voice tinged with irritation. Yet, his initial reluctance faded, replaced by a quiet contentment as he leaned into your ministrations. "You know," Bakugo grumbled, his voice softer now, his crimson eyes closed, "this isn't as awful as I thought it would be."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you step back to admire your handiwork. Bakugo's orange-red scales gleam like polished emeralds in the sunlight, their vibrant hues shimmering with newfound brilliance.

Bakugo snorts in approval, a rare smile gracing his snout. "Not bad, for a human, I guess," he concedes, his tone grudgingly admiring. "Well, I guess you're not completely useless." The dragon nuzzles his snout against you affectionately.

As you curl up together in the warmth of the den, surrounded by the comforting scent of the forest and the gentle rustle of leaves outside, you can't help but feel grateful for moments like these. "I love you, my Great Explosion Murder Dragon Bakugo."

A deep rumble echoes in his chest. "I love you too, my little human."

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polarisjisung · 8 months

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cherry flavoured

05— WALK YOU HOME

SYNOPSIS: y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung

PAIRING : dancer!jisung x fem!reader

jisung knew it wasn't healthy, the way he was so focused on getting his routine perfect, the one move he just couldn't get down occupying his mind, the image of him messing up every single time imprinted into his brain

dancing, for him at least, had always been relaxing, until he was voted in as captain of the dance team— now the responsibility weighed down on his shoulders and the expectation to be perfect and a flawless dancer didn't seem to alleviate the situation

on nights like these jisung wished he hadn't lied to his friends saying he was just working on a project in the library, or going on a walk, he wished he had an outlet, someone who'd save him from himself when the tears would brim in his eyes and reassure him that what he was doing was enough— he didn't want to be left alone in these moments no matter how many times he said it but he couldn't blame the guys when they'd never even known anything was wrong

just this once, jisung convinces himself a quick walk about campus will do enough to clear his head before he heads home, but the squeaking of worn out trainers against a freshly cleaned court seems to grab his attention

he'd seen her a couple times since the party, somehow always in the 02 jersey she wore around campus, exchanging smiles every so often, but never actually on the court

her red hair is tied back into a loose ponytail, one that swings with her every move, the orange tinge of a ball faintly visible in her hands as she makes an aim for the hoop above her once again and despite the ball bouncing back down through the net successfully, she doesn't seem satisfied— jisung wonders if she had an outlet, someone who'd take her away from the self critiquing thoughts that circulated her mind

he doesn't know when, or why, perhaps the similarity of their situations, he assumes, but he finds himself walking her way, tired feet softly treading on the maple floors

"I didn't think I'd find anyone else on campus" he says, unsure what to say to you when you turns to face him, sweat dripping down your face, a barely visible red flush spreading across your features

his own blue hair is matted to his forehead, a pair of loose black trackpants and white shirt doing more than enough to tell you he had been practising too— the sight has you choking back on your words, unable to formulate sentences with him stood in front of you like this

"how long have you been here?" he asks, slight worry creeping through his tone, you feel the heat rise up to your cheeks again and smile

"I only got here at around 7" you sigh, dribbling the ball, "what about you?"

jisung doesn't seem to even want to respond to your question, eyes wide in shock as he grabs your hand and leads you off the court

"it's reaching on midnight you know" he flashes his phone screen, "you can always practise another day, don't overwork yourself"

jisungs words are so genuine you find yourself wishing you'd come across him before, lips threatening to curl upwards when you realise his hand still grips yours tightly

but before you can reply, a loud rumble from your stomach has you crouching down in embarrassment

"I take it you haven't eaten" you smile his way shyly, shaking your head when he chuckles again, the same deep hoarse chuckle from somewhere in the back of his throat that has your stomach tied up in knots

"I haven't either, let's grab something and I'll walk you home?"

you don't realise you've barely even said anything, too concentrated on hearing the words fall from his lips, basking in the warmth of his speech

"sounds good pretty boy" he pulls you up, finally letting go of your hand, the cool air hitting your sweaty palm as you walk side by side— your basketball tucked safely between your waist as the boy next to you wordlessly took hold of your bag

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES: I just wanna incorporate more dancer jisung 😔

TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @jising-jisang-jisung @nanawrlds @222brainrot @chichiuu @dinonuguaegi @ishireads @yyy90210 @hibernatinghamster @stqrrian @makiswrld @everywonuu @marizhua @luumiinaa @asteriaskingdom @jeongintwt @90s-belladonna

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iamthecomet · 6 months

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Kinktober - Day 16 - Primal

Playing it fast and loose with "primal". It's not so much primal play as it is 1.2k words of Cirrus and Cumulus being really super into each other after a kill. (No on-screen murder but there is blood and blood drinking, so be warned if that's not your thing.) Read Below or on AO3.

Cirrus likes her mates best when they’re covered in blood. Not their own, of course. But still. Bodies streaked with it, fingers slick when they reach for her. Nothing turns her on quite as much as watching Cumulus pick viscera out of her hair. Or watching Sunshine spit red onto the forest floor after a particularly vicious hunt.

She supposes, if she were Human, this would be a problem. That getting wet every time she watches Cumulus rip a throat out would be a bad thing. But she’s not human. And there’s really nothing more beautiful.

She plays at humanity well. Well adjusted. Solid. Baser instincts always kept tight to her chest unlike some of the others. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel them. Doesn’t feel her fangs drip, hunger curling tight in her belly, when certain siblings walk by. Tossing their hair, filling the air with the smell of cheap shampoo, or citrusy perfume. When they stand too close, brush their arms against hers in an attempt to get her attention she feels claws grip tight to ribs. Dig in. Hold her in place when all she wants to do is spin, sink her fangs into the delicate skin of their upper arm, their inner thigh. Open an artery and drown out the chemical smell of them with something more organic.

Human. Visceral.

She’s buried in that smell now. Sitting against the base of a large maple tree. Watching Cumulus finish with their kill. Cumulus leans back, pulls away from the ruined body in front of her. She sits on the soft forest ground.

In the distance they can hear the others. More hunts. The distant sound of a scream. Humans crashing through the trees in an attempt to get away from the monsters hunting them.

Cirrus sighs, content. She looks up through the gaps in the forest canopy. Sees a smattering of stars, and the moon. Hung full and swollen in the sky above them. She’s full. Happy.

Turned on.

“Lus,” she says softly. “Come here.” Whisper quiet like she’s afraid if she speaks normally she’ll break the spell. It’ll shatter the want in her belly. That she will accidentally push herself back into the ghoul she makes herself be when she’s inside the Abbey walls. Reserved. Controlled. She doesn’t want any of it. She never feels as close to the pit as she does during hunts.

Cirrus basks in the memory of being a hunter. Predator. Top of the food chain. It’s harder here. They’re still predators. Still looking after their pray with hungry eyes hidden by the lenses of their masks. But Cirrus feels stifled by it sometimes. Living inside of a vessel that looks human. Having to smile at siblings during events. Some part of her loves them, adores them, the other wants to taste their humanity at the source.

Cumulus crawls over to her. Silvery eyes glinting in the moonlight. Cat-like. Blood smeared over her cheekbone. On her fingers. She’s in Cirrus’ lap in no time. Offering up finger still dripping with blood for Cirrus’ waiting mouth.

Cumulus, at least, always understands. Cirrus laves her tongue over Cumulus’ fingers. Catching each drop of blood. Careful to lick in the space between them, over the soft pads of her hands. Licking viscera from her palm. She does it on memory. Holding Cumulus by the wrist and watching her face. Seeing a blush start to ride high on her full cheeks.

Cumulus settles further into Cirrus’ lap. Knees pressed into the soft ground. Chests pressed together. Cumulus smells like their kill. Honeyed perfume and thick blood. Cirrus throbs with it. Clenches around nothing and wonders how long it will be until the fingers in her mouth are buried in her cunt.

Cumulus pulls her hand free of Cirrus grasp and buries both of them in Cirrus’ hair instead. Fingers digging over the shaved undersides as she digs in. And then Cumulus’ mouth is on hers.

It’s less of a kiss and more like being devoured. Cumulus licks into her mouth, gathers the lingering blood from her tongue. It’s not long before Cirrus is dragging her fangs over Cumulus’ lip.

Before Cirrus is curling both arms around Cumulus’ waist and trying to pull her closer as Cumulus rolls her hips, finding what little friction she can.

“Cir,” Cumulus pants as she pulls back. Lip nicked from Cirrus’ fangs. Cheeks pink.

“Need it,” Cirrus responds. Chasing Cumulus’ lips. She doesn’t elaborate on whatever it is. Doesn’t know that she needs to. She needs Cumulus between her legs. Needs to slot their cunts together, grind her clit over the swell of Cumulus’. Needs to pin Cumulus to the ground and eat her out until she cries. Needs Cumulus to do that to her. They’ll do it all. Right here. Stained with blood, and dirt, smelling of death and dried leaves. Under the light of the blood moon. Two feet from the sibling they’ve just devoured. Nowhere and nothing else will do.

Cumulus doesn’t ask for elaboration. There’s the same glint in her eyes. A need driven by their kill, by the hunt, the moon, the thinness of the veil between hell and earth.

Cumulus slips off of Cirrus’ lap. Just enough to pull her shirt over her head. To slide her leggings off until she’s left in just a pair of lace panties. Milky skin breaking out in goosebumps. Begging Cirrus to warm it. To touch her. To worry each inch of it between her skin until Cumulus is marked as hers and no one elses.

She reaches out to touch. To press her fingers to a pebbled nipple but Cumulus pulls back just as Cirrus grazes over her skin. Cirrus whines, a sound she almost never makes. Propelled by instinct and not thought she can only focus on her own desperation. The desire to bury her face between Cumulus’ thighs and never come up for air.

“Not fair,” Cumulus admonishes and Cirrus sighs. Sitting up a little straighter to pull her own shirt over her head. Cold air wrapping around her bare skin. Cumulus looks at her the same way she looks at siblings before the hunt. Ravenous. It makes Cirrus’ clit jump in her jeans. Cumulus helps her with her jeans. Popping the button and helping Cirrus ease them over her hips. She pulls her shoes off and throws the whole pile of clothes somewhere off to the side. The ground is cold now that she’s nearly naked. But the discomfort doesn’t last long.

Cumulus is settling in between her legs. Draping her warm arms around Cirrus’ thighs, her waist, as she eases her back against the tree trunk. Pressing open mouth kisses over her belly, her hips, her thighs. Nosing at the the short dark curls between her legs. Nose catching against the ridge of her clit.

Cirrus gasps. Threads the fingers in one hand through Cumulus’ curls and sinks the other into the dirt.

“I was gonna–” Cirrus’ words choke off in a sharp moan as Cumulus licks through her folds. Humming at the taste. “Fuck. I was gonna do this to you first.”

Cumulus laughs, nipping sharply at Cirrus’ thigh. “I’ll let you make it up to me later.”

#comet writes #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghostober #ghostober 2023 #Cirrus ghoulette #Cumulus ghoulette #Cirrus/Cumulus #Ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fanfiction #murder ghouls

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d4vynn · 10 months

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"Kazuha!"

When he opens his eyes, Kazuha doesn't see the sunlight as it cascades over the landscape like a golden tsunami. Neither does he see the rich red hues of the maple leaves surrendering themselves to the wind- a sign that autumn was finally in full swing and winter would be fast approaching.

When he opens his eyes, Kazuha sees you.

Bounding up the hill with that bright, effervescent smile plastered upon your face. The red of your haori matches the flush on your cheeks.

It's like a picture straight from a fairytale, he thinks. You're running towards him, hair askew and fabrics in disarray while calling his name. His heart pitter-patters in his chest like a Taiko drum.

He might be a young, but even he knows what he feels for you isn't completely platonic.

"Kazuha, I've been looking for you!" His name has never sounded so sweet. When it falls from your lips weaved in between your melodious chortles, Kazuha can't help but want everything else in the world to fade away until there's only you.

He chuckles, scooting on the rock to allow you room to sit. "I'm afraid there's nowhere I can hide if it's you that's looking for me."

That's right. Even in a game of hide-and-seek, you will always manage to sniff him out- perhaps it's a sixth sense you've developed after being friends for so long. What with how often the boy tends to wander off without telling anyone, you tend to just gravitate to where he is.

"That's right. You're pretty bad at hiding." You grin, plopping down next to him with a tired sigh. For a moment, the two of you bask in the idyllic scenery before you speak. "Father told me to invite you and your parents over for dinner next week."

You've been friends for years. It wasn't uncommon for both families to meet up once and a while for dinner.

"We'll be there." Kazuha says despite the odd twisting feeling in his gut.

a/n: this draft is from months ago and i forgot where i was going with this and i probably won't finish it

#i think it was supposed to be friends to strangers to enemies to lovers #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin #kazuha x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact oneshots #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff #kaedehara kazuha x reader fluff

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your-average-genshin-enjoyer · 2 years

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- O v e r w o r k -

CHARACTERS: Kazuha x reader

WARNINGS: Might be OOC(Out of character), may have grammar mistakes, I may use different pronounce accidentally for the reader qwq and this is just a random 3 am idea so sorry if it sucks TvT

"Kazu I'm back." You greeted, taking off your shoes after another overtime session on your work.

"Oh, welcome back Dove. Do you want me to make you dinner or something else?" Kazuha asked softly, moving his arms wide open for you. A laugh emits from his mouth as it echoes in the serene room when you slumped onto his porcelain white arms.

You two sit down on the floor in silence, you start to breath in his scent while basking in his gentle warmth as the smell of sea salt and maple leaves fills your nose. His bandaged hand pets your head so softly it almost lulls you to slumber.

"Thank you Kazu, but I think I'll go finish the last few of my paperwork for now." You replied, forcing yourself to drift away from his hold. Even though you still want to linger in his soothing warmth at least a little longer.

He frowns in your reply, both of his hands on your shoulder as he shook his head.

"Dove, you've been overworking for almost two weeks now. Isn't time for you to rest at least a bit longer? You've been skipping meals too these days, you need to rest for at least a day and catch up on yourself." Kazuha argued, concerns lingering in his fine red eyes while he speaks his disagreement to your statement.

"I know Kazu, but I'm fine really. I'll go shower and then get some rest, how does that sound?" You asked in hopes that he'll accept your offer.

"*Sigh* as you wish Dove, I guess I can't drive your statement further." Kazuha sighed in defeat.

You got into the shower while Kazuha prepared dinner for both of you. The sound of trickling water and sizzles of pans in contact with oil start to loosen you up from the strict work atmosphere your workspace has left you with.

You went to get your towel on the door but before you could get it, a sharp headache hits your head as your visions began to go blurry, your eyesight and hearing starts to blend in into nothing.

- Kazuha's Pov -

"Ok, now the soy sauce and- *Thud* " My train of thoughts we're cut off by a sudden thud from what seems to be the bathroom.

"Dove? Did you drop something?" I asked from the kitchen, then going to the bathroom not long after. knocking the door slowly. But when all I get was silence, I start to knock louder and then decide to go in to check on them.

"Dove I'm so sorry for intruding." I apologized quickly and opened the door to see Y/n unconscious on the bathroom floor.

"Y/N?! Dove, D-Dove are you there???" I asked, frantically wrapping them with a towel and carrying them to the bedroom. Their body was pale and cold, and this look of. . . Pain is in their face.

I checked up on them and was relieved to see that they are still breathing and seem stable.

"I guess I'll make some soup instead of chicken teriyaki for today, I hope you're ok with that." I mumbled while kissing their forehead as gently as possible to not startle them, and tuck them in bed with a blanket.

. . .

When the soup was ready, I served it into 2 bowls and bring them to Y/n's room so that we can eat it together. And coincidentally, Y/n start to stir from their unconscious state when I came into the room after getting some water.

"Dove? You're awake! phew, thank the archons. Are you ok? is there any pain or discomfort? any headaches? are you seeing something?" I rambled but then stops when I realized I asked too much and start apologizing to Y/n, only for them to chuckle at my behavior.

"Don't worry kazuha, I'm ok. I just felt dizzy before but now I'm fine." Y/n replied, caressing my hands that are in their grasp softly yet weakly.

"*Sigh*, that's good to know. You better get some rest now ok? I made some soup if you want to eat, or we could just rest if you're tired." I offered.

"I think I'll eat first, can you hand me a spoon?" Y/n asked with her hands open, asking for the spoon and bowl of soup.

"I know you want to eat by yourself but please allow me to feed you this time Dove." I said, placing the spoon full of soup in front of their face.

"I-I can eat by myself Kazu, besides it's sort of troublesome to feed me to be honest." Y/n said sheepishly, which makes me shake my head and differ with their statement. They finally agree to be feed by me after a few minutes, we ate our food in a serene silence that is exchanged with lingering eye contacts that somehow speaks more than usual.

"Is it fine if I wanna cuddle you?" I asked, realizing I've been feeling touch starved because of them working overtime which actually manage to make me feel embarrassed.

"Of course you can Kazu, come here." Y/n giggled with their arms wide open, which of course I respond right away at their gesture by laying on their side and hugging them.

"I miss you, Kazu. . ." Y/n said sleepily with their hands and face buried in my chest. Soft snores start to emit from their mouth, I would be lying if I said it didn't make me laugh a little.

"I miss you too Dove, rest well." I whispered, hugging them closer as I joined them into the realm of peaceful dreams and slumber that is lulled by the subtle breeze of the wind.

#Kazuha x reader #Kazuha x Y/n #Kazuha #genshin x reader #Kazuha genshin #3 am ideas :')

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dollopsy · 2 months

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DR. DARLING’S MOUTH IS INSCRUTABLE. pressed into a thin line but far from cruel … the mouth of a devout man. it’s hot in his kitchen but he shows no signs ━━━ no lick of perspiration weighing down salt & pepper locks nor rolling down the valleys of an aging face. for but a moment he basks like a cat in the sunlight moving by through the large window above the sink as he carefully slices strawberries on a cutting board, thick red stains on wood.

❛ he is terribly afraid of dying because he hasn’t yet lived. ❜

🙶 he used to be a nice young man, just like you and i, 🙷 the mortician’s patience is infinite, in certain circumstance, he hopes will @ohlympns come to accept. never quick to anger, his irritation is not brittle but liable to break when the desire to let it strikes him; rather, when gabriel forces his hand. his shirt, crisp & nearly too white makes him look professional even in his own home, cuffs rolled up to the sharp cusp of his elbows. 🙶 he was no big cheese, mind you, but what all that pain does to a man … 🙷

dr. darling breaks eye contact abruptly, sliding the fruit into a bowl of vanilla yoghurt & oat powder, the scent of sweet maple syrup wafting its way out of the thin cracked - open space of the window. the warm countryside asks him to return to the thirsty grass.

🙶 swell, ain’t it ? come eat, my boy. 🙷

#𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑. YOU DID NOT NAME ME.#ohlympns #[ I <3 FAMILIAL DYNAMICS !!!!! ]

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uchihashisuii · 1 year

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seasons change (and so do we). | Kakashi/Obito

Summary: Autumn, Kakashi thinks, is a rather terrible time. or: Kakashi and his complicated relationship with the season.

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito

Rating: Gen

Author’s Note: this was the result of a discord server exchange! I was lucky enough to write for my dear friend @kanekolinkk I hope you enjoy this slice of introspection x

Ao3

---

Autumn, Kakashi thinks, is a rather terrible time.

The turning of the season brings with it a dip in temperature, swift and uncomfortable enough to have him sighing behind his mask.

People are quieter in the colder seasons, something he picks up on more and more as the years go on. Though he wouldn't classify himself as anything even approaching the concept of an extrovert, Kakashi notices the collectively soured moods and overall easily exhausted masses when the season shifts. It's colder, and darker, and the rain drips incessantly to blot against the pages of Icha Icha. It makes for a abhorrent time for any shinobi, not enough sunlight to get things done (too much darkness to linger in) and the dismal weather has the nasty habit of washing away any footprints or otherwise perfectly tangible clues to follow on any basic mission. He's already a bit of a workaholic, but in those first few weeks following summer giving its hasty farewell there's always a dozen or more shinobi coming down with the sniffles or something worse, the sudden change of weather disagreeing with just about everyone. As such, their numbers thin, and Kakashi is only too happy to pick up any slack. Miserable weather makes for miserable missions, as one of his kohai used to say; but at least the incessant noise for autumnal storms is almost loud enough to drown out his own thoughts.

That doesn't mean he's altogether thrilled about it.

Autumn brings with it a certain melancholy for different reasons. The much too short and long-since-gone days spent beside Minato-sensei and the rest of his genin squad return to rear its head when he most expects it. That is to say: always, though awful weather and somber days drag it all to the forefront much easier than he likes. Memories cling like frost, digging and dragging tiny pinpricks of awareness to the base of his spine, demanding attention Kakashi is more than happy to give. Autumn, after all, is when things went right. And wrong.

He remembers - he remembers. The first licks of autumn rains, pelting down on him the first day he trained with them. The afternoon ending in yelling and Obito's bloodied nose, Rin's disappointment and sensei's frown. The laughter of children who weren't afforded the luxury of being children, running rampant. Obito and Rin, and their game of jumping between every fallen leaf in their path. To hear the crunch, to make leaps and bounds without slipping across rain-dampened terrain. Maples, from brilliant red to dull brown to muddy gold. Kakashi remembers their joy grating to his ears, thinking them immature and making far too much noise for a shinobi. It would only be much later that he realized he was envious, of their free and clear laughter, or their unmitigated joy. Frustration bubbling deep beneath his ribs from his own stubborn refusal to join in their games, though hands were always offered.

He remembers Rin laying in a pile of leaves, uncaring of the grime and the damp. Hair askew and eyes closed as she basked in it, smile breaking across her face like the dawn. Cushioned comfortably, a bouquet of fallen red leaves gathered over her breast. The smell of petrichor clogging his throat, and the red painting her chest turning brighter, thicker. He blinks the memories away, shuts it tight in the box of regrets beside Obito's last smile.

An argument could be made that autumn possesses the notable date of his birth, something which any normal and well-adjusted person would consider as an overall positive. But for Kakashi it merely serves as a grim reminder that he has, despite all relatively half-hearted attempts to the contrary, made it through yet another year coasting along the long journey of life. Hooray. He's thrilled, truly, to wake up with the dawn on his thirty-something turn around the sun and feel a startling lack of anything. Ponders on his mother, who shares his birthday with the anniversary of her death; slips into his sandals as his thoughts turn to his father and his eyes take in the rain-soaked morning that feels achingly familiar. Rain is a reminiscence of things he'd rather forget but is too much of a coward to allow to slip free of his obsessive grasp, and even if he grumbles to anyone who would listen about the weather making it impossible to flip through the well worn pages of his favourite novels, he supposes the rain helps him hold even tighter to years gone by. Nothing jogs the memory quite like the familiar feeling of soaked palms and the taste of ozone lingering on his tongue; with eyes closed the rain could be blood, the blood could be rain.

Mah. Too early in the morning for his usual bout of self-imposed suffering. He's truly getting more and more maudlin as the years pass.

-----

Autumn, Kakashi thinks, might not be quite as terrible as he once believed.

The weather cools, the leaves fall. He gains three students, loses one, and again gains so much more. He sneezes into his mask -an altogether unpleasant experience, made the slightest bit more bearable at the sound of Naruto's laughter- and gratefully accepts the rough pat on his arm from Sakura. Family, friends - the years pass, and he has bright little lights following him around and reminding him with every turn of the season that there might just be a reason for him to see another autumn.

-----

Autumn is as dismal as it's ever been, made even worse by the promise of war. Made infinitely worse when war comes for them all, and Kakashi finds himself staring down the endless and inescapable hall of responsibility. Lives, too many to count, linger in the fringes of his awareness. No matter the strife, no matter the cost - he'll see them home. He'll guide them, as he always has, to a brighter future.

The weather cools, the leaves fall. Autumn is quiet in its timely melancholy, when the sun rises on a still and grave October morning. The world is silent, locked away in Tsukuyomi; he watches Naruto make his goodbyes to his father, and for once Kakashi hasn't had to make one of his own.

Obito's hand is comforting, wrapped around his own. Warmer than the morning chill, keeping him present and here and alive. Gloriously, wonderfully alive.

The weather cools, the leaves fall. Kakashi does not witness it alone.

-----

Autumn, it turns out, might just be his favourite time of year.

Winter is too frigid, too dark. Summer too hot, making him itch and sweat beneath his layers. Spring too rainy, though he has found a bit of a soft sport for gentle February mornings. But autumnal winds bring with it its remembrances, and Kakashi cannot find any true fault in it. They shine like gold in his memory, much like the fallen leaves that dot that path to the future; the smell of petrichor calming to his sensitive nose. Autumn, after all, had taken much from him over the years. His mother, his sensei, his friends, his innocence. But it gave something back - something infinitely precious that Kakashi has no plans to let go of anytime soon. Obito came back to him on an austere autumn day, chasing away the cold and the dark. Months, years, pass them by - but not apart. Never apart, not again.

#hatake kakashi #uchiha obito #obkk #kkob #obikaka #kakaobi #naruto #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #jules writes #jazz hands welcome back to more jules nonsense

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vitamntea · 1 year

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I wrote a snippet instead of working on my fics HAHA!

Kiara is an autumn spirit. She controls the wind, as well as the dried leaves, and drove them toward the children playing under the orange tree. The giggles are music to her ears and the bright smiles on their faces are the gold of her mind. She has always loved making them smile with her creations, she spins around her feet when summoning the wind while gathering the fallen leaves — almost look like dancing — and her heart warms when the kids watch in awe of the phenomenon, unbeknownst to the existence of the spirit of autumn. She giggles. Then, extending her left hand, her fingers flicker and sends a couple of maple leaves into soaring toward the small audience and then passing against their hairs, ticking the nape of their necks.

Somewhere in the distance, a winter spirit stands with his arm looped over the curve of his staff. A soft smile on his face. He admires her even in a mile away, he doesn't want to intrude as it will ruin what he is doing, Jack wants to bask in watching the autumn angel bring joy to children as much as he does in winter. They are the contrast of one another, but share the same fire igniting in their hearts once their gazes find each other, like an electric pull that make it seem difficult to look somewhere else.

The feeling of her hand on his cold palm is crisp, an avalanche of sensations. He touched it with his lips once, and he will not mind doing it again if it meant seeing the red blush across her soft cheeks. She has always looked adorable. So tender. Jack wonders if her reaction will be the same when he plants a kiss in her face this time.

Fantasies fly in his hand as he continues to watch her, patiently waiting for her to notice him after playing with the high-spirited children pouncing over a pile of leaves. Kiara will find him no matter what, and when she does, his arms are always prepared to pull her in a loving embrace.

Two spirits under a magical roof called love.

Look.

I hate to be a beggar but can I please have more? I love this. I love all of it. I love it so much.

I even threw in a cover post.🥹🥹

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mccnstruck · 2 years

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Hi there ^^ I heard you're feeling horrible today so I decide to write a fic on Kazuha in hopes that it'll make you feel a bit better. Sorry if it's bad or has any mistakes. Also sorry for this coming in late qwq

take your time on sorting things out but I hope you're doing better :D

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- O v e r w o r k -