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dayseternal-blog · 3 years

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i think im running out of naruhina fluff/smut. T-T. Can you help me out? hihi

🔍

you think you can hide behind anonymous 🧐 I’m quite certain I know who this is haha 😘

And for you, dearest anon, have three completely unfinished, barely started wips (EVIL CACKLES BECAUSE THESE GO NOWHERE)

But actually, if any of these one-shot ideas catch your interest, please let me know and maybe I’ll actually try to finish one of them?

Smutty Soulmate AU, where you meet your soulmate in your dreams each night upon turning 20.

When her alarm jars her from sleep, she’s always only left with a feeling and flashes of color. Today...she desperately tries to focus, to reach back, to remember…

Excitement. Red. Dark.

Her heart beats faster for reasons unknown to her, and there’s no point in trying any harder to slide the experiences of the soul into her brain. After pointless meditation sessions, longer naps, and all manners of effort with dream diaries and online tips, she’s been resigned to the fact that only her other half can unlock that translation of dreams to memories. She has yet to meet her soulmate in person.

Ever since her 20th birthday a few months ago, since that nerve wracking night of meeting her soulmate for the first time, going out has been a secret manhunt. Eyes peeled to every single passersby over the age of 20. Any one of them could be the person she’s spent the last 200 or so nights with.

So she dresses carefully for a day out with Sakura, Tenten, and Ino. They’ll be going to the restaurant where Sakura’s fiance works his part-time job. For all she knows, her soulmate might be there, too.

A guy? A girl? Her age? Much older? She has no idea what she’ll say to her soulmate, either. But she imagines that when she sees them, it’ll be like a homecoming. Planning is unnecessary, right? When it’s someone you actually see every night? If they didn’t like her, she can’t imagine why she would wake up every morning with so much residual happiness and longing.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT @bunny-hoodlum

Ghost-Hunting (Obake Hunt) Comedy Modern AU, Naruto & co. visit a college at night for some scares that take an unexpected turn...

A shadowed driveway leads up the mountain toward the private college.

“Is this it?” Sasuke asks, peering out the car window.

“Yeah, turn here,” Ino instructs.

“Okay, but why is the place even open at this time of night,” Sakura states, arms crossed with a skeptical expression as Sasuke drives the minivan through the gates, up the grand driveway. The dorms for the college were built at a separate location down the main thoroughfare.

Ino shrugs. “They have all kinds of events that go on at night. I don’t know.”

“At least we know we’re not trespassing if the school’s open.” Hinata’s soft voice comes over the back seat.

“I still can’t believe we actually talked you into coming with us!” Ino teases.

Sakura laughs, “We’re having a bad influence on her!”

Hinata shakes her head. “Actually, I’m amazed that Naruto-kun is here,” she shyly replies.

Sasuke lets out a quiet laugh. “Doesn’t mean he won’t shit himself if we find a ghost.”

“Okay!, no!, I won’t shit myself, alright?” he immediately defends. “...I might just scream a little, but I won’t poop my pants…” He’s already in a protective stance, arms crossed, back hunched a little.

Everyone laughs at him, but Hinata takes his hand, smiling half-amusedly, half to comfort him. “I’ll protect you, Naruto-kun.”

That only makes everyone laugh harder as Naruto sinks into himself in embarrassment.

Despite Ino’s school being open, the parking lot is somewhat empty save for a few cars. The buildings are magnificent in design, echoing back to an era when arched entryways and stucco were favored over walls of glass. The hum of cicadas pierce through the still, late summer air.

The small group of friends silently follow Ino back toward the driveway of the school with only yellowed street lamps lighting the dark sidewalks. They cross into the street, stopping right in the middle at the fancy traffic meridian. It’s an odd decorative aspect of the driveway they passed on the way up. It’s right in the middle of the street, separating the in and out lanes, somewhat built-up and rounded with a grassy patch and flowering bushes planted high on top. It really only serves to make the school look expensive.

Ino smiles, then whispers, “Put your hand here on the wall.”

“Why?” Sakura asks, also in a whisper.

“Just feel it.”

They do, all of them placing their hands on the wall, waiting for something to happen.

“You see how the plaster is kind of rough over there?” she asks.

They nod, their fingers dragging over the rushed job.

“...This is an ancient burial ground,” Ino explains in a hushed tone.

Their hands spring off of the wall, their fingers wide in stress at what they were just touching.

“Ino, what the fuck?!” Naruto hisses, barely containing his volume, his legs already carrying him away from the meridian and onto the side of the street.

Sakura stares at her hand wide-eyed. “Oh my gosh, we’re all cursed,” she laments. She can practically feel the spiritual energy twisting around her fingers.

Ino snickers. “That’s what my course major senpais did to me.”

Sasuke and Hinata are silently trailing after Naruto with abject horror on their faces. Hinata fists her hand uncomfortably against her skirt.

Once they’re all gathered safely away from the meridian, Ino continues to explain. “When they were constructing, they found the remains of the ancient natives.”

“So they just built that random thing in the middle of the street to house the bones and then continued on their merry way?” Naruto asks for clarification.

Ino nods. “After they found them, they built that wall around the burial ground, and apparently they were in a hurry to cover it back up. They just made the driveway go around it.”

They stand there, staring at the burial ground, picturing the bones just on the other side of the wall they touched, below the grass and bushes.

“Did you have to make us touch it, though,” Hinata asks, regretfully, with a really sad frown.

“The spirits of the ancient warriors are going to find me and kill me in the dead of the night,” Naruto states, as if it’s already fact.

Ino brushes his paranoia off. “We’ll, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Note to all of us--don’t do anything Ino tells us to do,” Sasuke says.

Ino gives him a very evil smile. “That’s not all there is to this place.”

“Why...why am I doing this…” Naruto asks to no one in particular.

She leads them deeper into the center of the school, where a large tree spreads its thick limbs over a beautiful cobbled courtyard. A simple fountain beneath the tree spouts water, and pennies shine beneath the surface of the circular pool. The gurgle of the water as it falls is relaxing, serene in the quiet of the night.

“Wow, this is nice,” Sakura says, looking around at the manicured gardens surrounding the courtyard.

Ino nods. “A girl hung herself here.”

They turn their attention to the blonde. Suddenly, the peace of the courtyard feels like an ill omen.

She tilts her head at the large tree. “They say that when this used to be a mental hospital, a girl got away from her caretakers. She was found hanging from this tree.”

They frown at the branches, wondering which one the girl chose.

Ino gestures to steps that lead to an academic building. “They said that at night, you could see her ghost walking and talking to herself in the corridors, always bringing herself to this tree. Someone suggested to the school that they build this fountain here to give rest to her spirit.”

“So no one sees her ghost anymore?” Sakura asks.

Ino shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out…”

“What?” Naruto scrunches a face of distaste.

“Let’s go,” Ino invites.

“Go where…” he whines quietly.

Ino takes the disturbed group down the steps to the building. “Hm, I wonder if it’s open…” She pulls the handle.

The door opens.

“Whyyyy is it open…” Naruto groans.

“But actually, though, why,” Sakura states.

“Maybe the teachers are still here?” Hinata suggests.

Ino laughs. “Psh, what college professor cares that much about their job?” She holds the door open, inviting them into the building. “Welcome to the language arts hall.”

The corridor lights are all on, assuring them that the building is, indeed, open.

They enter the hallway. Naruto lags behind. When the door shuts, he opens it again. “I’m just making sure…” He tests the handle a couple more times before closing it. Then he tests it once more for good measure.

“You satisfied?” Sasuke asks.

“I’m just making sure,” he repeats.

Hinata frowns, imagining the door locking them in while they’re inside the building.

Naruto’s paranoia is only making things worse.

Ino starts ahead of them, and Naruto has to rush to catch up. “Wait for me!”

“SHHHH!!” Sakura scolds, finger to her lips.

They stand there, noticing how her shush seems to echo in the hallway.

“This place is really creepy,” Hinata comments quietly.

Ino shrugs. “Only at night. I had classes in this building in my first year.”

“So this place used to be part of the mental hospital?” Sasuke asks.

“Yeah,” Ino affirms. She brings them to a classroom. “You see how there’s this little window that you can use to look inside?”

They nod, taking turns peeking into one of the dark classrooms. It’s a normal room with normal desks.

“All of the rooms have this hallway window, you see? It was so that the nurses could check on the patients.”

“Oh gods,” Naruto mutters.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT

College Ballet AU, Naruto sees a different side of his quietly reserved friend.

It wasn’t a trick.

Winter had dragged its sharp claws across the ground as long as it could, but finally, finally, three seasonal false-starts and numerous wilted, early-blooming daffodils later,

Spring had finally decided to stay for good.

Trees bloomed pastel pinks instead of icy white. New hopefuls popped out of the wet dirt, ready to face the sun. Birds were suddenly a real thing again.

Students strolled across the college campus in shorts and light sweaters, eager to shed the winter coats they had worn for six straight months.

And most importantly…

“The forecast is in the high 50s all week!” Ino announced as she pranced into the room, swinging her dance bag to the floor.

“Oh!! Remember last spring we had class outside?” Sakura asked, turning her attention to their ballet instructor.

“Can we have class outside, Kurenai?” Ino pleaded, eyes wide in hope.

“Hm, the weather is nice today. I suppose it is a shame to stay indoors on an afternoon like this,” she considered aloud.

Hinata listened with alarm. She had never danced outside before, never in her 14 years of dancing. Yes, she had danced on stage before, had performed in front of many strangers before, but still... Everyone will see us, she worried.

“I didn’t bring my speakers today, though,” Kurenai continued.

Before Hinata could feel any relief, Tenten pulled out her tech from her bag. “You can bluetooth your phone to mine!”

“Awesome, Tenten!” Sakura exclaimed.

“Oh, please, Kurenai? Can we have class outside?” the other girls begged.

Hinata already knew her fate. She was going to have to wear her body-conforming leotard and tights in front of the entire student body. Nevermind the fact that the last time she had gone barefoot on grass was in elementary school.

They all picked up their belongings and made the quick trip to the center lawn.

As she predicted, many students who were already finished with their classes for the day were enjoying the afternoon weather, laying out in the grass reading or playing frisbee.

And here they were, in their leotards and tights, about to have their whole ballet practice for all to see.

“There’s so many people,” she whispered in embarrassment to Sakura.

The pinkette looked at Hinata in confusion, then sympathy. “Don’t worry. Just relax and enjoy the sunshine! It’s a lot of fun to dance outside. It feels like…” Sakura glanced up in thought. “...Like freedom. Or like...nature!”

Hinata took a deep breath and nodded. She slipped off her sandals and lined up with everyone to begin their barre exercises...without a barre. She spread her toes open to first position and settled her arms and hands into en bas.

Already she could see curious onlookers watching them, and she could only thank the god above that they were having class in a corner of the field, and not front and center.

Kurenai glanced over her dancers, noting their prepared positions. She rattled off the instructions for their plie routine before setting up the speaker and scrolling through her phone’s music menu.

Familiar piano music rose into the air.

More students glanced around.

Hinata tried not to think that all of their eyes were on her. Because she knew, logically, that they weren’t all watching only her, but her heart just hadn’t been prepared for this sudden public display.

Eventually, with the right side completed and the combination repeated on the left side, Hinata began to feel less tense.

The students lazing on the lawn returned to their own devices, and only passersby watched as they headed to their destinations.

She fell into the muscle memory of the exercises, and her focus turned inward on the flow of her arms with the music, of the dart of her toes with the beat, and the alignment of her body.

It was like Sakura said. There was a certain freedom she had never felt before in dancing barefoot in the grass under the Spring sun, turning, leaping, and reaching into the fresh air.

#anon #wips #naruhina fanfiction #witness how quickly i lose interest

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eirian-houpe · 3 years

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Modern Wonders - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), Alice (TV 2009)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Grumpy | Leroy, Hatter (Alice TV 2009), Dodo (Alice TV 2009), Queen of Hearts (Alice TV 2009), Carpenter (Alice TV 2009), Mad March (Alice TV 2009), The White Rabbit | Agent White (Alice TV 2009), Doormouse (Alice TV 2009), Widow Lucas | Granny, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Wonderland, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Pining, UST, Violence, Psychological Torture, Torture, Exploitation, Revenge, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Reconciliation

Summary: Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and when Regina casts Rumple's Dark Curse, just a few words here and there creates Storybrooke in a very different place, with a very different atmosphere, and very different issues to deal with. Alliances and enmity permeate the lives of the citizens of Storybrooke, (and beyond), as they tiptoe around the various dangers they face every day. Who is awake? How can they break the curse within a curse? And what of the power struggles rife both within, and outside of Storybrooke itself.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 2 - Storybrooke

The gold handled cane did him little good in the surroundings outside, the broken terrain, but within the confines of the shanty town that was Storybrooke Gold’s stride was long, and confident, more like a lord measuring out his demesne than a poor crippled pawn broker living on the deals and heartbreak of others. He smiled wickedly to himself to think of the impression he gave to others, and the thrall he kept them under in spite of appearances.

Oh, if only they knew.

Storybrooke was not as ‘dead’ as they thought - or rather, as Regina thought - because Storybrooke was a tiny little bubble within the larger cesspit that was Wonderland, and he had the advantage. He had been here before… with Jefferson - and he frowned.

Since their arrival he couldn’t remember having seen Jefferson, not even lurking in the mansion that Regina had meant as his prison… his torment, to be shut away from his Grace. He made a mental note to pay the man a visit, determined to unlock the conundrum. Of course no one else cared. No one else was awake… and he wasn’t meant to be, he was sure of it - another conundrum for him to unravel.

“Um… Mi— Mister Gold, I ah… that is…”

Gold halted on the paved sidewalk, and turned his head to watch as Archie Hopper, umbrella in hand - in preparation for what rain, Gold wondered - cross the deserted street toward him.

“Doctor Hopper,” he greeted the man with false cheer. “A pleasure, but out with it, man, I haven’t got all day.”

“Oh, I… um…” Hopper pushed his glasses up along his nose, back into place, “I wondered if you’d had a chance to consider my… ah… proposition?”

“Ah, yes,” Gold purred. “Walk with me, won’t you?”

Gold turned without waiting for the good doctor’s agreement or otherwise, and set a slower pace toward Granny’s diner. With the library still closed, it was the one place left open for informal, communal gatherings. Of all of Storybrooke’s other, cursed, inhabitants, the proprietor was someone for whom he had a good deal of respect. Tough as nails, no nonsense, Widow Lucas was as upstanding a pillar of the community that Storybrooke possessed.

All the rest were crumbling; as crumbling as the buildings and the streets of Storybrooke itself. Gold wondered if anyone else had noticed.

It was subtle. The odd crack in a sidewalk here, the tendril of a vine there, a wall, beginning to crumble and weeds reclaiming a spot or two in the well manicured gardens. Subtle, but unmistakable. Wonderland was reclaiming its own.

“I’ve give it a good deal of thought, as a matter of fact,” Gold told Hopper before he allowed his observations to run away with him. “And while, obviously, as an upstanding member of our town council, I can’t condone what you’re suggesting…” he left a long pause as they reached the diner’s doorstep, whereupon, lowering his voice to a dangerous growl, he blocked Doctor Hoppers path with his arm, stretched across the doorway, and said, “I think it might be just what some people in this town need.”

Whale growled softly and turned away from the window. It wasn’t the paint, peeling, that was the cause of his frustration, but the fact that he couldn’t reconcile the feeling that was flowing through him, and the sky outside of the hospital. It was almost cloudless.

He was, he tried to tell Sheriff Humbert when the man called in to find out about his latest patient who had been found wandering - raving by all accounts - about some kind of ‘door,’ a doctor and not an investigator. The sheriff however, refused to help him get to the truth about his patient’s ramblings.

“This isn’t Narnia,” he said in a somewhat poor display of bedside manner, “there are no doors to other, magical kingdoms. No witches, no wizards, no—”

“Yeah?” the citizen interrupted. “How do you explain this then?” Whereupon he pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the strange, abstract shape standing out raw and painful looking on his arm.

“A uh… tattoo?” Doctor Whale suggested in an overly patient tone. “And a somewhat fresh one from what I can tell.”

“Uh-huh,” the patient argued, “And you get em just like that,” he snapped his fingers somewhat inexpertly, “do ya?” He jerked his head toward the window. “When the sun shines on ya?”

“Sheriff Humbert, please,” Whale turned his attention to the man hovering uncomfortably in the doorway, looking as guilty as sin and extremely distracted. “You see? You can at least tell me where you picked this man up, and if there were, indeed, a door there?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but… there’s nothing I can tell you,” Humbert answered. “I’d like to tell you I saw a door, but the truth is, I was far too worried about your patient here to pay too much attention. His safety was my priority.” He took a breath and added far too hurriedly in Whale’s opinion, “Anyway, I just called round to see how he was getting along. Can’t stay though,” he said. “I’ve a council meeting, that I have to get to in,” he glanced at his watch, “ten minutes. And the mayor doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Then he left, and Whale remained, alone and without explanation standing beside the hospital window staring at the wrongly colored sky.

Gold sighed softly as the bell over the shop door tinkled to announce an unwanted caller. He wasn’t sure why he expected that simply displaying a ‘closed’ sign would discourage random visitors, and mused to himself that perhaps locking the door might be a more effective deterrent.

Taking his time, he picked up the cloth from the workbench and carefully began wiping his fingers clean of the gear oil which he had been using on the innards of a delicate clock, even as he made his way out of the back room, and into the shop, limping as he went.

“Madam Mayor,” he said as he set eyes on Regina standing practically tapping her foot with annoyance at having to wait. He kept his tone light, appreciative, as if to imply he respected that someone so important was going out of their way to be in his presence. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Cut the crap, Gold,” Regina snapped, by way of a return to his greeting. “What did you do!”

So she has noticed.

“I’m… sorry,” he said slowly, “I don’t follow.”

“It’s a simple question,” she growled. “What. Did. You. Do? Everything’s coming unraveled.”

“Unraveled?” he echoed, deciding that he would continue to feign ignorance for as long as he were able; see what he could find out - what she would let slip. “I’m afraid I haven’t done anything, and I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He put the slightest hint of pique into his voice at the end of his assertion, to make it convincing, then for good measure, added, “If it’s something woven, or a knitted blanket, I’d be happy to take a look at it. It wouldn’t be the first time that—”

Regina’s hand slammed down onto the top of one of the glass cased, rattling the contents within as she snarled, “Drop it, Gold. I know you’re awake. Not that you’re supposed to be. Jefferson was the only one I—”

So, my old friend is in Wonderland too. He’s not going to be happy with that.

“Awake?” Gold interrupted, then with a confused laugh in his voice he added, “Regina, you’re not making any sense. Of course I’m awake. I’m standing here, talking to you - was just fixing a clock out back, so unless I fell asleep while I was working and this is all a dream—”

He made a mental note to take another walk around Storybrooke some time very soon, to check on Grace, and hoped with all his heart that she was safe; almost that she wasn’t here - that whatever had diverted the curse to Wonderland had spared her.

Regina growled, cutting off his words, and his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow, undecided whether to reveal himself in that moment, or to play the game a little longer. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“The borders are failing,” she said harshly. “This wretched realm is encroaching on my town. So if you had anything to do with that, Gold, so help me…”

It was the threat that broke his resolve to pretend he was not awake. No one, least of all Regina threatened Gold on his own turf, and the shop was his turf in more ways than one.

“Well, well, well…” his voice was more of a low rumble in his chest, and he took his cane in hand and walked toward, and then around Regina until he was barely behind her, and purred in her ear, “…Dearie…” Even so, confessing he was awake was one thing, revealing he had magic, that was quite something else. “Things not going quite how you planned?”

“I know you have something to do with this,” she accused.

He circled around the rest of the way to come and lean against one of the display cases, looking far more casual than he felt as he looked her up and down, before he said, “Now, what makes you think,” he pointed at her, “that even if I had the power to - what was it you said - ‘unravel’ this little town of yours, that I’d even waste my time trying.” As he spoke of himself, he jabbed his thumb against his own chest, the grandeur of the gesture far more reminiscent of his Enchanted Forest form than the upright, uptight Mister Gold of Storybrooke.

“What you should be asking, dearie,” he rumbled, “is who would have the kind of magic necessary to mess with my Dark Curse?”

#rumbelle #au.#cursed storybrooke #wonderland #drug use #recreational drug use #pining #ust #psychological torture #violence #torture #exploitation #revenge #eventual romance #eventual smut #reconciliation #Modern Wonders #i will always write jefferson

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fallen-in-dreams · 4 years

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7 Signs of a Cheater

Links: FF.net & AO3. Pairing: Sakura/Gaara. Summary: When Sasuke cheats on her, Sakura returns the favour. It's not cheating if he did it first... right? A vignette of how GaaSaku happens when SasuSaku wasn't paying attention. AU Modern GaaSaku/SasuSaku. Status: Complete. Warning: Angst. Jealousy. Not a moral kind of story. Lemons. Bad sex. Good sex. Cheating. Also: if you do not like SasuSaku (can't stand it or just don't like reading it) I suggest you DON'T read this. It's not just GaaSaku in here. (But yes, this is ultimately GaaSaku. Disclaimer: I have enjoyed FANON SasuSaku in the past, so no character bashing was intended. Not sure that translates very well in THIS story, because of its premise, but whatever.Enjoy. ^_^

.:.

1) Mysterious phone calls or texts on his phone.

The ringing woke Sakura up and her eyes fluttered open. She didn't move, knowing before she looked at the clock that it was not light out yet and whomever was calling could just go to early morning hell. Besides, they had an answering machine and Sasuke was anal about letting it take over when his beauty sleep might be interrupted.

This was why she was surprised when the ringing stopped abruptly, and she heard Sasuke's baritone voice answer it. Sakura froze in place, hyper aware of how her breathing had stopped instinctively and closed her eyes quickly, heart racing. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she imitated sleep. Why she felt the need to do this she didn't know, until his voice lowered to a whisper.

She strained to hear him.

"I told you not to call me at home … no, she's asleep. Just …what?"

Snippets of his conversation that made no sense whirled in her head.

"I said I'll see you later."

Whispering. She watched the minutes tick by on the clock.

"Don't call me at home."

More whispering. The clock beeped three times as it hit exactly 3am.

"Hn. I'll see you there."

Then silence. Like he was trying to make sure she was still asleep, Sasuke climbed back into bed and touched her shoulder. It took all her self-control not to respond. But he tugged a little harder and she could no longer hide behind the façade of sleep. Pretending she was just waking up, Sakura let out a soft yawn, rolled onto her back and looked over at Sasuke. She rubbed her eyes for good measure and kept them only half open. She noticed he still had the phone in his hand; her eyes dropped to it and his fingers twitched, like he'd been caught out, so she said the only thing she could think of.

"Sasuke, did someone call?

"Wrong number."

She frowned as he laid down and rolled away from her on the bed. If it was a wrong number, then why had the call lasted for almost five minutes?

.:.

Sakura was done feeling sorry for herself that her boyfriend was busy. Again. She took Naruto up on his invitation—one also extended to Sasuke, but the Uchiha had cited work to get out of it—and headed out to the club that the blond had organised to take over that night for his twenty-first birthday bash. Her name was on the list, so she waited impatiently for the bouncer to let her in, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on her tits. She wished she'd worn something more appropriate for the cool night. Her strapless dress was perfect for her because she could hardly call her chest endowed. It fitted her like a glove, too, and was made of a shimmery, black material.

Naruto was going to get a kick out of it.

Finally let inside, Sakura clutched her purse tightly, moving the strap over her head; it accentuated her non-existent assets, which she was just fine with. Sasuke hadn't been making an effort to make her feel sexy lately, so this would have to do.

Strangers, beware. You can look but not touch.

She giggled at herself, inwardly, then looked around for a blob of blond hair.

Found you.

He was talking animatedly with some guy with red hair. They both turned to look at her as she drew closer; the redhead caught her eye and she remembered him right away from a picture on Naruto's desk at his apartment. It was for the redhead's birthday the year before, apparently. Sakura rationalised her quick memory from a single photo because his unusual hair colour stood out. And now that she'd seen him in the flesh, she remarked internally just how good it complimented him. Gaara was an out of towner, only in Konoha because of the blond. He was also apparently some big shot in Suna.

She felt a thrill go through her body at he way he was blatantly ogling her.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto yelled and hugged her. "You look amazing! That dress is awesome! Come, meet Gaara. He doesn't bite, I promise."

This Gaara smirked, taking her hand and kissing it gently; his fingers brushed over her skin, teasingly. She blushed. "Not unless you want me to," he said, and she felt her mouth go dry.

This is going to be a long night.

.:.

2) Unpredictable behaviour.

He'd been more quiet than usual the past few weeks. Sasuke was working so late his head had barely hit the pillow before her alarm went off; her shifts at the hospital were also starting earlier. Tsunade-sama was running her ragged, but Sakura enjoyed the challenge. It was a welcomed distraction from the nagging doubts that forced their way into her head when she was at home—alone and wondering where her boyfriend was this time.

But every so often she thought he might tell her; he opened his mouth when she asked him how his day was but then shut it just as quickly, murmuring, "hn" and then going back to whatever he was doing that was so damn important. Sakura would be more offended by his standoffish attitude if she too, hadn't been overworking herself lately.

But she missed her boyfriend. She missed his kisses, his caresses, and when she was able to get more than a monosyllabic response from him. Sakura saw him in the morning when he got up and she was almost out the door, as well as some nights when she'd woken up as he returned home. Then there were a few sporadic days—such as weekends and his normal day off—where she would wake to the smell of him cooking breakfast. Or to the feel of his fingers working their magic between her legs and his mouth leaving wet trails along her neck. But those days were few and far between and becoming a chore to wait for.

They'd talked about this.

And his behaviour became so unpredictable that Sakura—in her desperation for his attention—started a fight with him. She didn't want it to come out of nowhere and be about something stupid, but that's ultimately what their fights ended up being centred on. She wanted to get him to admit what was wrong with him, so she brought up his family. It wasn't a taboo topic, but he didn't like talking about them, either. Other times she'd mention them, he'd just go quiet and wait for her to give up on getting a reaction from him. But this time…

"Sakura, shut up!"

She recoiled as he stormed out of their apartment, grabbling his car keys and coat, and slamming the door behind himself. The minutes ticked by as she stood there, with her mouth hung open and the tears prickling at her eyes.

Sasuke didn't tell her to shut up and he certainly never yelled at her. Not even in his angriest moments.

What the hell is wrong with him?

And how the hell was she supposed to help him if he wouldn't talk about it?

.:.

Alone for her day off, Sakura contacted a few friends, bored out of her mind. But everyone seemed to be busy, so she decided to invade Naruto's space—he did it to her so often. Doing it back to him wouldn't bother him at all, she was sure. And as luck would have it, she ran into Gaara instead. Apparently, he was staying in Konoha for the week, on vacation and baka that he was, Naruto had forgotten to make time in his own schedule to hang with him. So that was how Sakura found herself, early Sunday morning, letting herself into Naruto's apartment, only to find out the blond had been called into work.

And his hot, new temporary roommate, was a master at Call of Duty. She'd never played this game before, and contemplated just turning around and leaving, but those jade eyes caught hers and she found herself completely unable to move. Away, that is. She was perfectly capable of sitting down next to him, putting her feet up, and watching him play.

They said nothing for two hours. Occasionally, Sakura would get up and grab a drink or bowl of chips—which he shared with her, without asking—but eventually found herself next to him again, in silence. But every time she sat down, she sat closer. He didn't seem to mind. The smirk on his face told her that her presence was welcome.

His eyes would dart to her bare legs when she shifted position next to him and occasionally watch her lick the salt of the chips from her lips. But she didn't find it perverted. It was flattering.

And surprisingly, the lack of chatter between them was never tense or annoying. He played the game with little interaction, not making use of the in-game chat other than to occasionally tell someone they're an idiot or grunt at them. She even heard someone—so loud—on the other end ask him if he was alone because they "could hear crunching so stop fucking eating chips" when Gaara wasn't the one eating. But she liked it. It meant she would be less distracted by his deep voice and could concentrate on the game. She often watched Naruto play and loved it. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop taking sneak peeks at the man next to her.

It was this way the first time she'd met Sasuke, but where the raven-haired man had called her annoying and told Naruto to stop inviting her over during their gaming hours, Gaara seemed content with her presence.

She had no idea how much Naruto had told him about her, but he didn't seem interested in asking her anything about herself.

Once he was done with the game however, Gaara carefully placed his controller and headset down on the coffee table and then turned to her, like she hadn't been sitting there for hours, and smirked at her.

"Do you play?"

"C.O.D?" She squeaked out her question and he started running a hand along her arm.

"Yes."

"No."

"You like watching, though."

That sounds like a dirty innuendo.

"N-Naruto's really into it and I-uh like watching."

Yee, gods.

Gaara shifted closer to her on the couch and started asking her questions about herself while making it clear he was interested in her, but not actually crossing any kind of line. Not really. He had to know who she was, who she was dating, and that both Sakura and Sasuke were friends of Naruto.

But as his fingers started massaging her skin, he clearly didn't care. (IF he knew; she still wasn't sure.) He didn't try anything else with her and she felt disappointed. Nights alone and unwanted like she was some kind of asexual decoration instead of Sasuke's very fuckable girlfriend would not excuse her if she decided to start something with Gaara first.

She wouldn't let anything happen between them, no matter how good his fingers felt along her bare arms. And… legs. She couldn't.

.:.

3) He hides his financial history from you.

The Uchiha family business was worth millions. Hundreds of millions. Maybe even billions. She wasn't sure. Sakura hadn't bothered googling them since she hadn't started dating Sasuke because he drove a car that probably cost hundreds of thousands of yen. Or a million. What did she know about sports cars?

But he didn't hide his expenses from her. Until now.

They used to go over their joint finances together. Now he suddenly didn't have enough time and she was left doing her own, by herself. He wouldn't even give her an estimate on his own expenditure. They had a joint account that he suddenly wasn't depositing anything into and her password for his account wasn't working anymore.

Sakura didn't like it. She needed to find something, anything, that hinted to what he was hiding.

So, she broke into the lock boxes he'd hidden in his study; that he didn't know she knew about. Well actually, she undid the screws holding the hinges in place—it was easier than trying to teach herself to pick the lock. She'd never been the patient type when angry or annoyed. The heavy lid came off easily and she placed it carefully on the floor before rummaging through the box. There were letters to and from his father and his older brother Itachi, but she reserved that for emergency suspicion and just focused on looking for anything financial.

There were a handful of blank cheques. The cheapest was in the hundreds of yen. She frowned. Sasuke hated blank cheques. If someone got their hands on them, he could be out thousands—or more—yen.

What is he doing?

She double-checked the time (he wasn't due to return home for another two hours) and got to work on sorting out all the paperwork he didn't want her to see. If this was just a financial mix up, there'd be nothing in any of the rest of this stuff that should set off her suspicion, right?

Sakura resisted the urge to read the sealed envelopes, but noted they had no recipient name on the front. And strangely, when she rattled a few, they seemed to contain small bits of metal.

And there was a charge to a five-star hotel suite she didn't remember going to. The receipt clearly showed a single room for two occupants and many charges for room service. Things like oysters, chocolate, ice-cream, and champagne on the room service charge caught her eye. Gulping and wracked with sudden nerves, her eyes roved over the date. It was from a weekend she'd spent at a medical conference on the other side of the country.

And he'd (allegedly) been stuck at home with work.

.:.

Sakura declined all fourteen of Naruto's invites to go to some generic theme park place—she had no idea what it was because he was so excited over the phone, it came out as a ramble. He had finally gotten a day off to hang with Gaara and wanted Sakura to come with. She didn't.

Gaara was a red-hot temptation that she was determined to avoid until he went back home. Far, far, far away in the magical land of Suna. That weird city she'd never visited and was now off her bucket list. She just had to put more effort into her crumbling relationship, even if the idea of trying to pressure or trick a stubborn Uchiha into sex did make her cringe.

But when Sasuke stood her up, again, Sakura decided she wasn't going to wallow. She messaged Ino and met her at Hinata's place; they decided to go dancing. It was a place that Naruto frequented, but Sakura didn't bother worrying about it—he'd texted her shortly after their phone call to tell her he was going to take the redhead to some weird mini-golfing place. She'd sent him a few emojis and left it at that.

Imagine her surprise when, half an hour after dancing with her girls and turning down every guy that tried to come onto her, Sakura spotted a familiar redhead and blond in the crowd.

Not knowing about her predicament, Hinata welcomed Naruto happily, shyly accepting his arm as he insisted on dancing with her, and Ino raked Gaara with her eyes. Sakura was about to make an excuse to leave when he moved up beside her, ignoring Ino's pout and whispered in the pinkette's ear, "please don't make me have to dance with the other blonde tonight."

Sakura bit her lip and glanced at Naruto, who was spinning Hinata around happily, and decided not to question that comment. She sighed and let him wrap an arm around her waist (no inappropriate touching, she told him, and he smirked but nodded his head). Ino quickly decided not to be left out and immediately grinded against some dark-haired stranger, making Sakura roll her eyes. The girl loved competing for male attention with Sakura, back when the pinkette used to be single.

Gaara moved them in time with the music and kept his hands in appropriate places but she didn't trust him. Not for a moment. He took the opportunity to pull her closer when the song was slower and grind against her when the beat sped up—still nothing too bad but she was worried how it looked.

Sakura pulled away from him after the fifth song. It was late. She needed to get home.

He politely escorted her to the door of the club, and she fled.

.:.

4) Changes in tastes overnight, like music, etc.

Friday nights were their date night. Even when he was being distant and Sakura found her days spent alone in their apartment or working or calling up Ino to see if the blonde had the day off, they still went out at the end of the week. They took turns choosing what they'd be doing, and this time was Sasuke's.

He wanted to head to the cinema. But he didn't seem to care what movies were showing. So, Sakura chose a romantic time travel movie. The female protagonist was travelling backwards in time. Sakura loved it. Sasuke spent the whole time, his eyes glazed over or looking around the auditorium.

Sakura had fallen in love with Sasuke the day she realised he loved romantic movies. Even if he wasn't very good at being romantic, himself.

The soundtrack had her in tears, but he just sat there, stiff as a board and she wondered if maybe he was coming down with something. Sakura paid for their dinner later that night as they made their way to the beach. He was such an odd man, liking the sand between his toes more than she did. He was so weird, always on the look out for the latest rock metal music. She didn't share his tastes, for the most part. But it was never boring.

He must be coming down with something.

They ended the night in their apartment after the karaoke bar. Sakura was surprised by the intensity in which Sasuke took her clothes off, since he hadn't touched her in a while, but she wasn't going to complain. His hands were all over her suddenly, like he was trying too hard, but she let him have at it, afraid that any interruption from her might stop him altogether. She moaned in all the right places, touched him in all the ways he liked, and parted her legs when he nudged at her to do so.

And when he finally pushed inside her, Sakura tried to let herself go. For her mind to just disappear in the rocking and groaning and slapping of their bodies. But she couldn't. Something was different. Something was very wrong.

Unbidden and out of nowhere, images of their night out came to her and she wondered if this had something to do with his weird behaviour lately. He wasn't the most romantic person, but he did like romantic movies that actually contained plots. Like the one tonight. Everything about him felt off.

She wasn't enjoying herself. Sasuke didn't seem to be enjoying himself. Their sex wasn't normally the most adventurous, but Sakura didn't think she was doing anything wrong. She tried to mix it up, but he kept pushing her back down on the mattress, not even bothering with his signature "what are you doing" look as he continued thrusting. When he finally came, Sakura decided to worry about it later. Along with all the other sudden changes in his tastes. She ran a hand through his hair lovingly as he panted into her ear before rolling off and away to try to sleep. And she sighed heavily.

As far as she knew, he had no plans for Saturday, so she resolved to ask him about it in the morning.

But when her eyes fluttered open after a night of fitful sleep and she reached for Sasuke, happy and nervous at the same time, her hands hit empty, crumpled bed sheets instead. He'd left a note on his pillow, stating that he'd been called into work.

So much for my answers.

.:.

I'm a cheating bitch!

Sakura found herself thinking of Gaara when she was in the middle of writing out boring reports at work. Whenever something slowed down enough, she couldn't help it. Tsunade ran her ragged, as usual, and her home life was quiet and upsetting. So, in those moments when her focus slipped, her thoughts drifted to the newest man in her life.

Ugh.

Ino had talked her ear off on the phone after that night about "what were you doing?" and so forth, while simultaneously wondering out loud if this "redhead with the hots for you" would do her instead. Sakura gagged at that and told her off for it before making her promise to not tell Sasuke about Gaara.

"There's nothing going on," she rationalised it. "Sasuke's under a lot of stress at work so bugging him with this would just be unnecessary."

"Whatever forehead. But with the way you and Gaara were bumping against each other at the club, maybe you need to decide if you even want Sasuke to not know. Imagine being sandwiched between those two and—"

Sakura abruptly ended the call.

She was so not interested in having sex with Gaara. And Sasuke wouldn't go for it anyway…

Sakura felt her face flush as she stared at her phone. She didn't want to proposition Gaara or accept his advances, not really. Imagining him hot and bothered didn't mean she wanted to actually see him hot and bothered. She had a boyfriend. She had someone. Even if it didn't actually feel like she'd had Sasuke for a long time.

This was just lust. She'd get over it.

Sakura jumped as her phone rang in her hand, holding a hand to her heart to steady her breathing. She didn't recognise the number but decided a quick prank call might just be what she needed to keep her mind away from pretending she didn't want to jump Gaara's bones.

Crazy.

"Sakura."

Damn it.

"Gaara? How'd you get my number?"

"Naruto."

"Right. So, what's up?"

That was lame.

"I need a lift to the airport."

Right, he was going home. Her free hand shook slightly, and she clasped it to her chest as she tried to focus on the call. Sakura cleared her throat.

"Why can't Naruto pick you up?"

"He's inconveniently busy."

"Working, or Hinata?"

Gaara chuckled on the other end. "You don't want to know."

Enigmatic. Funny. So, fucking hot.

He's going to be the death of me.

Sakura thought about it, but then berated herself for being so rude. If she didn't get to sleep with him, then being his friend was the next best thing.

I SO don't want to sleep with him, she told herself staunchly.

Sakura forced a smile to her face. "Okay, when do you need to be there?"

"In ten minutes."

"Shit." She hadn't realised she's said that out loud until Gaara chuckled on the other end. She sighed. "I'll be right over."

.:.

5) Has new friends at work or responsibilities.

He'd been working a lot. That wasn't news. So, it was no surprise to Sakura when Sasuke was promoted. The success ladder of Investment Banking was now opened wide to him. He seemed proud of himself, so she was proud of him. Even if this wasn't a career that he'd ever seemed proud of before. Sasuke had told her once he just needed to get away from his father. It was a job he was good at. It bored her to tears, but whatever.

Sakura went to the company party to celebrate. Sasuke hadn't invited her but she pushed her way into it anyway. She made sure to know when and where it was going to be and talked so animatedly about it to him that he couldn't just say, "no, you can't come". He'd never stopped her from attending work functions with him before, but she was paranoid that this was going to be a first.

She'd rearranged her schedule at the hospital damn it. She was going to do this.

Sakura had gotten to know the names and faces of the people Sasuke worked with, but she didn't recognise any of the people at the party. They were all new co-workers, it seemed. He must've been transferred between departments for this promotion. She was very proud of him with that realisation. He was doing better. He was proving to his father that he didn't need to keep running to Fugaku every time he hit a bump in the road. She smiled up at him and he gave her a tentative one back.

But then, Sakura learned very quickly that the women her boyfriend was now working with had their eyes on him. She clung to him all night, glad she'd worn something sexy as well as expensive, and made sure to glare at any woman who got too close to him.

Why didn't he say anything about this?

Sasuke happily (for him) talked with every associate that came up to him, and even disappeared for about twenty minutes one time, citing a work emergency. Sakura spent that time receiving smug looks from his co-workers and trying and failing to feel welcomed.

When Sasuke returned, she reclaimed his arm and was happily surprised when his other hand came to rest on hers when a particularly beautiful woman came up to talk to him—while ignoring the pinkette.

How many beautiful people does he even work with?

Sasuke's main boss—a man with strange facial piercings and bright hair—was nice enough to address Sakura a few times and made a point of talking about Sasuke's new responsibilities. Sakura sighed internally, realising this was going to mean more work for him, and later nights. As if it wasn't bad enough.

There's goes my sex life.

.:.

The ride to the airport and Gaara's subsequent disappearance from her day to day was weighing down on her. A soft kiss to her cheek in thanks and she was blushing for hours afterward. He still hadn't touched her inappropriately.

Thank, kami.

But there was still an inappropriate nature to his treatment of her. She wasn't sure if he knew she was dating Sasuke as the raven-haired man was never mentioned, even during a Zoom session between Sakura, Gaara, and Naruto. Sasuke hadn't even "hn'd" at her in days and Gaara found time in his busy schedule to talk to her about nonsense and ask about her work and friends, while Naruto made faces at them both. He acted like a friend of a friend in front of Naruto but once the blond got off the line, Gaara asked her what time she had free for a one-on-one chat. She knew immediately it was a bad idea. But she sent him her schedule for the next week and he reciprocated.

They decided on Sunday night. She would be home alone and apparently, his siblings had families to tend to then. He was the only single person in his family. It was giving her bad thoughts. She distracted herself from that by telling him about a patient that threw up on her. Unsexy story, coming right up.

"Uh, Sakura?"

"Yes?" She sat up and self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Have you ever been to Suna?"

Oh goodness, don't ask me to come to Suna.

"N-no."

He smirked at her. "Better not. It might ruin your perfect complexion."

She poked her tongue at him.

"Mature."

Sakura started at the sound of the front door of her apartment opening. Sasuke was home.

"I have to go," she said.

"I'll see you Sunday."

"Bye," she said hastily, and closed her laptop quickly, scared of what her boyfriend might think of this agreement.

Wait.

What am I feeling so guilty about?

Women and men could totally be non-fuck buddy friends. She didn't jump into Naruto's bed, so she wasn't going to jump into Gaara's. No matter how much she desperately wanted to.

Ugh.

.:.

6) He's changed his lifestyle suddenly (lost weight, more muscle, etc).

Sasuke had always been fit. He was lean but powerful, and always had a weekly schedule of fitness. He knew how to take care of himself.

But this was insane.

Sakura had been cataloguing the changes in her boyfriend and come to the logical conclusion that he'd morphed into a fully-fledged health and fitness fanatic while she wasn't looking. This was beyond OCD.

His food in their fridge changed from his usual leftover okaka to that green crap that health nuts whizzed out because they ate too much of it. Whenever she wanted to have sex, he made his excuses and either had a migraine or went for a jog, instead. When he wasn't working, of course.

She decided to get proactive after a particularly bad day at the hospital and set up a romantic dinner, knowing he was finishing work at six because of a closure of one of the bank's big clients. It wasn't that he was being laid off—just that he wouldn't be needed that night. The bosses were working with more senior representatives to resolve the issue.

So, she sat in her chair at the dining table, feeling sexy wearing Sasuke's favourite of her dark red lace lingerie under her sleek black dress, and waited for him to open their front door and be surprised. She wondered if maybe she should have just waited, naked, in their bedroom, but her boyfriend was always the horniest after a good, home cooked meal, so she waited.

And waited.

She waited for an hour before calling his mobile phone and got his message bank. A few minutes later she got a text; he'd decided to go a co-worker's house for a few hours and wouldn't be home until the usual time. Sakura sighed and blew out the candles she'd set up. This was getting her nowhere.

A week later, he finally came home on time and she was excited. Sakura hadn't decked out the dining room table again, but she'd made dinner and as he dug into his rice balls and tuna, she couldn't keep the grin off her face. He was here, he was listening to what she was saying—her day at work had been great—and she was feeling particularly randy every time he looked up at her because of something she'd said.

So, when the dishes were put away and they'd had their separate showers, Sakura pounced.

When he pinned her to their bed, holding himself up as he hovered over her, she couldn't help but notice his biceps were larger. She couldn't help but notice his lacklustre performance as he thrust in and out of her had not changed—just his physique. Sasuke had never been the sex god his fan girls had assumed from the moment he was old enough to have sex, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She didn't begrudge him that.

But now, he seemed to have completely given up.

They hadn't had sex in months, and he didn't seem as hungry for it as she'd been for him. Surely the extra stamina he'd gained from working out so much would transfer into every physical aspect of his life.

"Sasuke?"

He ignored her and rolled over, tucking his face into his bent arm. She knew that pose. He did this every time he was annoyed at himself. For someone who'd known him for years, it was obvious to Sakura that he was regretting giving into her.

Her heart couldn't take much more of this.

.:.

A few more months had passed since she saw Gaara off at the airport and Sakura was enjoying the Zoom calls with him more than any communication with Naruto. The redhead was quickly becoming one of her closest friends.

It helps that he's hundreds of miles away.

She couldn't bang someone she couldn't touch, no matter how many times Ino tried to convince her that virtual sex was a thing. It was fine for people in long distant relationships, but she was living with and dating Sasuke.

While wishing I was living with and dating Gaara.

Did it make it virtual sex if they talked about their favourite positions and what got them off? She talked to Ino about this stuff too, but Ino never looked at her like she wanted to devour Sakura when the pinkette admitted to preferring to be the dominant one, rather than submissive. And it wasn't Ino's eyes that dropped to her mouth when Sakura licked her lips in the middle of her confession that she liked the preamble of her lover slowly inserting their fingers into her. Teasing her before going all in.

It was Gaara who agreed that sex with strangers wasn't as hot as fucking someone you considered a friend.

Friend.

The night before Gaara had told her this, Sasuke had taken her quick and fast—and after his confession, it made her wonder if he was friends with Gaara. She imagined sex with the redhead would be less vanilla and more intense than the Uchiha. She often imagined what they'd look like taking their turns with her. After a few months of this virtual, sex confessions, and sick of hating herself for it, she no longer berated herself for these healthy fantasies and was happy enough to just keep this secret to herself. She wasn't going to lose her mind over this.

Their friendship was fine the way it was.

Right up until the moment that Naruto informed her Gaara was returning to Konoha again.

"He's looking for real estate for a client," the blond said, making himself at home in Sakura's kitchen. He was a great cook when he didn't make ramen. Sasuke had left for work but Naruto didn't seem bothered. When was the last time those two had even hung out together?

Gaara owned a business left to him by his father. He gave start-up capital to people and worked with them to turn their ideas into a thriving business—for a cut. This was the perk of being a rich kid with all the money in the family—he hadn't needed to work his way up that corporate ladder. Sakura didn't envy him anymore than she envied Sasuke, but sometimes she wondered what it would be like to make your own hours. She'd love that.

Maybe I should run my own surgery one day.

It sounded better the more she thought of it. She smiled at that as Naruto rambled on about how it would be so great to have Gaara back in his apartment. He'd insisted on taking him in again and inviting Sakura over.

Sakura agreed without thinking, lost in the reverie of her new inner revelation.

A few days later, she was making excuses to Sasuke, who didn't care anyway, and headed over to Naruto's. She didn't want to see Gaara. But she did. He was a good friend so why wouldn't she?

Her inner monologue continued on like this as she drove herself, oblivious to the edge she was teetering over.

Naruto answered the door when she knocked and quickly ushered her in. It turned out that he'd invited quite a number of people over to celebrate the redhead's return (any excuse for Naruto), and she suddenly felt underdressed. But when a certain set of jade eyes caught hers, she no longer cared. He was dressed casually as well and motioned for her to follow him as he left the crowd of boozing acquaintances of Naruto's and led her out onto the relatively quiet balcony.

"Hi," she breathed, when the door was closed behind her.

He smiled down at her, brushing hair out of her face and revelling in the fact that she was enjoying it. "Hi."

Inconsequential words were shared. A few lingering touches. Sakura kept her promise to herself to restrain from jumping him and he kept his promise to her to restrain from inappropriate touches.

But they so wanted to.

.:.

7) He suddenly needs a lot of privacy.

Sasuke spent more time alone than with Sakura. He had started answering his phone in the other room. He also closed his laptop when she came into his study to check on him. Even though he brought his work home, he still acted distant and secretive about what he was doing. She found herself confused by the hour long Zoom calls and his refusal to talk on the phone when she was in the room. It felt like she was living with a spy.

And after his promotion and strange changes in his behaviour, not to mention how his tastes had changed and their sex life had come to a standstill, Sakura was no longer going to ignore all the red flags.

This wasn't a relationship at all, and she was angry. Did he think she was stupid? Did he think she was so blind or in love with him that he could do anything to her, and she'd just happily go along with it?

Would I?

But the fear of losing him reined in her temper. She resorted to pretending to be asleep when the phone rang, and he waited for it to stop and then start again before climbing out of bed. He had been getting these calls on his mobile as well, but he didn't seem as annoyed by those ones.

Sakura waited for him to close the door and walk away from it before quietly getting out of bed.

She pressed her ear to the door and heard more snippets of a quick conversation before rushing back into bed to avoid getting caught. She was angrier than before and finally fed up with these games. Sakura intended to get to the bottom of this. But approaching Sasuke directly would accomplish nothing. He had a way of avoiding direct questions. She'd tried. And without hard evidence, he would just brush her aside.

She was tired of being brushed aside.

So, Sakura made a point of looking bored when he answered his phone. She made a point of lingering when he entered his pin to unlock said phone. She didn't look at him or it directly, just pretended to be dusting or talking with either Ino or Naruto on her phone to make Sasuke think she wasn't paying attention to him.

And the morning after she figured out his four-digit pin number, Sakura stole his mobile phone. She turned it off to keep him from using the landline to call it. He was in such a rush that he decided to just go the day without it—it wasn't his business phone, anyway. So, she accepted his cold lips against her cheek then called in sick to work to give herself some time to think and work this out.

Tentatively, she turned Sasuke's phone back on, knowing he would be too busy at work to bother calling it—and why would he? Her hand shook as she swiped at the screen and entered the pin number; her own smiling face stared up at her, alongside Sasuke's bored looking facade. They were his lock screen and wallpaper. It tugged at her heart and made her hesitate, but Sakura quickly pushed that aside and rifled through every text and call he'd had in the past months.

He got a lot of personal texts from women that Sakura recognised from that promotion party, but they seemed mostly one-sided. The contact that glared up at her was decidedly more intimate. She'd never seen the woman before, and the name was unfamiliar. But there she was, naked and winking at the camera; she'd sent a number of these texts to Sasuke and he'd replied… with similar images of himself. And both parties made promises to meet up. Texts marked after these dates talked about how much they enjoyed each other.

They were definitely having sex.

Sakura fought the tears but couldn't stop them. Her vision was slightly blurry as she read the sex texts and punished herself with every heart emoji and naked picture the two sent back and forth. Eventually, she threw the phone across the room where it broke against the wall and she struggled to get herself under control.

She'd been so subservient, a doormat; Sasuke could never have guessed she'd steal his phone and find the incriminating evidence of his cheating.

It didn't matter. The damage was done.

Sakura let out a sob and curled up on the bed. And for the first time in months, since she first suspected, Sakura finally broke down.

.:.

She had it out with him when he returned. What else was she going to do? But in the aftermath, there was suddenly only one thing that was clear: they were over. Sakura had done what she needed to do. She was devastated. But also relieved.

A deep, quiet rage had been building inside of her. But the dam wasn't broken, just cracked along the weak points, with water (tears) threatening to spill out from these spots. But she didn't want to break down. Not yet. Not until she was so far removed from her failed relationship that all she could see was black.

Sakura knew what she had to do. She was on a mission. After a few minutes of putting herself back together, she showered, dressed, and stormed out of the apartment. She remembered her anger and the conversation she'd had with Sasuke.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Sasuke?"

Sakura didn't trust herself to drive in this state, so she called a taxi and headed straight over to Naruto's. She stormed into the apartment; her eyes focused on her target. She didn't even notice the blond wasn't there. The hot, redhead sitting on the couch, headphones on and the C.O.D. controller in his hand stood and turned to face her entry. His jade eyes took in her form, the fierce look on her face, and blinked heavily. The door slammed behind her and Sakura stalked up to him.

"Sakura?"

He looked so concerned, so fearful, that she almost stopped. But it wasn't Gaara's feelings she'd come for.

Ignoring the light wetness on her cheeks, Sakura held a finger to his lips to stop him. His eyes widened and his Adam's apple bobbed. Her forwardness was turning him on.

"Shut up," she said. "Just shut up and fuck me."

His eyes searched hers and a quiet understanding passed between them. If he didn't fuck her now, he'd never get to. Something had happened to change things and she was determined to do this. Doing as she asked, Gaara kept his concerns to himself, ignored the complaints in chat, and met her halfway as she crashed her mouth against his.

He didn't have a chance to even turn the game off.

"I found your mobile," she'd said to Sasuke, throwing the broken phone at him.

Gaara moaned and wrapped his arms around her torso.

"What did you do to it?"

Sakura fumbled with his shirt before pushing her hands up under the hem and stroking his abdominal muscles.

"I broke it."

He trembled under her touch but eagerly responded by running his right hand along her hip before cupping her butt. His hardness pressed against her groin and they stood there, in the middle of the living room, just pressed against each other. Kissing. Groping. Moaning.

"You stole it."

A year of sexual tension came tumbling out of the secure hidey hole they'd both buried it in, for safe keeping.

"And you've been cheating on me." Sasuke fell silent at her accusation, the annoyed look on his face dropping when she let the cat out of the bag. He was busted.

Sakura tugged on Gaara's shirt and he followed her lead, moving to lie on the couch as she climbed on top of him; still kissing, still hungrily attached to each other. Now their hands moved to divest each other of their clothes. It wasn't slow or teasing. They didn't have the patience for that right now. Buttons broke, shirts ripped at the seams, and her knickers were torn beyond repair.

She gasped and pulled away long enough to give him an eyeful of her bare breasts; his eyes feasting on them as he cupped them, then trailed a hand down her flat stomach, and probing the soft curls between her legs. Still straddling him, Sakura dug her knees deeper into the couch and repositioned herself to get friction and heat between them.

There had always been heat between them.

There was a lot of screaming and she started throwing things at him. His things. Sasuke dodged them but said nothing, letting her anger roll over him and do what she'd intended. He looked devastated and lost.

Sakura swivelled her hips, sighing deeply as Gaara hardened under her ministrations. Not satisfied with the pace, she started stroking him, biting her lip when he threw his head back and let out a string of expletives before moaning out her name. She kept at it, not letting him get up when he clearly wanted to switch their positions and gripped him harder than necessary when his fingers found her sensitive spots in retaliation. He played with her body as she played with his, before, without an assent from him, Sakura held him in position before greedily lowering herself onto him.

She didn't hesitate to take what she wanted. And he didn't stop swearing as she engulfed him fully, moving above him immediately. She rose and fell, a little unbalanced until he gripped her hips to steady her. Sakura was trembling with excitement. This was really happening.

Her thoughts forgot her former lover as her new lover moved his body as best as he could, to keep in time with hers.

It was over. She wanted to forget him so desperately but couldn't stop the breaking of her heart and soul, even if she tried. Tears threatened to fall but she would not let him see her like that. There was one last thing she needed from him. The only question she wouldn't forgive him for not answering.

The redhead's hands moved from her hips when she had found and perfected her speed and movement, now tweaking one of her nipples and trying in vain to get her to lean forward so he could suckle the other. She kept her hands on his chest, using him for leverage; her eyes closed, her breathing deepening and becoming more ragged. If she opened her eyes for too long, the rise and fall obscured her vision; the tears had stopped a long time ago. She felt woozy. So much so, that when her energy started to wane, burning out her adrenaline, Sakura gave in and leaned forward, letting Gaara suckle away.

It sent a new fire through her body and she found herself riding him with renewed vigour. She couldn't hear her own screams, nor the cries of her breathless lover. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of their bodies pushing against each other. That all the tension from resisting him was melting away.

As Sakura lost track of how many times she's ground herself into him—of how many times he'd filled her so fucking fantastically before she rose and fell back down on him again—she also lost her mind.

She was coming. And she was coming hard.

"Why the fuck didn't you just tell me you wanted to be with someone else, Sasuke?"

She opened her eyes as her body convulsed; the coil curling and burning inside her. Jade eyes stared back at her, hungry and animalistic as he took her harder than she'd ever been taken before.

"Fuck!" Sasuke swore. "Because I still love you, god damn it!"

Sakura stilled as her body spasmed, coming around him. She couldn't maintain her equilibrium, falling forward to face plant onto Gaara's shoulder as he groaned into her ear, still thrusting. She didn't have long to dwell on the power behind her orgasm before the redhead was sweeping her into his own orgasmic euphoria.

Gaara.

It was always Gaara.

She was heading toward him the moment they'd met. The moment she'd seen his picture. Hell, probably the moment things were going wrong with Sasuke. She wasn't sure about the timeline, but it didn't matter.

Sasuke cheated first.

And according to Ino, virtual sex was still sex. So, nobody was innocent today. Except maybe Naruto—but only because he'd had no idea what was going on with his friends. Sakura sighed, trying to focus on the how Gaara felt inside of her as he started to soften. She didn't want to regret this, but there was still the matter of how they could even work together. She had a life here, in Konoha, and he was a big shot in Suna. But who's life would be upended by this, and was it even worth it to do so?

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Maybe Gaara had no intention of being anything other than fuck buddies. The thought made her heart clench and she had to remind herself of all the tender, thoughtful moments they'd shared over the past twelve months.

As she contemplated her future with this amazing man, his hand came up to languidly stroke her spine, his body trembling under hers as she shifted to look toward where he'd dropped his game controller and headset.

The game is still going.

The audio was still on.

.:.

#GaaSaku #Gaara x Sakura #Sakura x Gaara #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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falseroar · 4 years

Note

Maybe 3 with JJ and Wilford? :D

((One “How hard can baking a cake be?” with JJ and Wilford coming up! I’ll admit, the idea of these two in a kitchen together made me smile. Sorry it took so long!))

“So do you have all the flavors?”

Jameson Jackson jumped and spun around, one hand to his heart, a speech slide appearing between him and the fluorescent pink and yellow man as if some kind of defense. “Jeepers! I didn’t hear your knock at the door!”

Wilford frowned and waved the slide away before breaking into a manic grin. “Come now, who needs doors to get anywhere?”

“…Most people, I would think.” Jameson hid his step back from the man by leaning against the kitchen counter. “Why are you here, Wilford?”

Wilford, in a rare moment of awareness, tilted his head past the slide to give the other man a suspicious stare. “You know, for some reason I’m getting the sense that you’re not super comfy with my being here. But that’s just ridiculous, of course!”

Jameson frowned and pointed a finger at him. “Ridiculous?! You’ve turned a gun on me before, not to mention my friends!”

Wilford shrugged. “Existential crisis, happens to everybody! Besides, I’ve turned a gun on everyone at least once, it’s kind of my thing.”

“The last time we were in a house together, you tried to hunt me down like some kind of animal!”

“Ah.” Wilford paused and said, “In my defense, you did have that Antiwhatsit hanging around in your head. Plus, I kind of hoped you would have forgotten about that.”

“…Fair enough.”

Wilford beamed at him and moved toward the counter, only to be stopped short by another speech slide.

“But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Wilford read the words and turned toward him. “Which was…?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why, to bake a cake of course! Didn’t you get my message?” Wilford peered around Jameson to look at the flour, eggs, and other materials carefully arranged on the counter beside several bowls and pans. “Or do you always have baking supplies out and ready to go? Because I thoroughly approve if so.”

Seeing Jameson’s baffled expression, Wilford sighed and placed his hands on the gentleman’s shoulders. “JJ. Jameson Jackson. Jamieboy. J. Jonah Jameson—”

“Not my name—”

“Shush!” Wilford slapped a finger over JJ’s mouth, making the speech slide that appeared cut off and flimsier than the others. “Have you, or have you not, noticed that these days the others are a bit down in the mouth? They’re not going out, keeping away from other people—”

“You mean because people are supposed to be staying home and not breaking quarantine?” Jameson gave Wilford and the door a meaningful look, for all the good it did.

“Yes, yes, that’s what Dr. Iplier keeps telling me. That is, when he isn’t working himself to the bone at the hospital. Your doc’s doing the same thing, isn’t he?”

Wilford’s eyes bored knowingly into JJ, who thought of how Dr. Schneeplestein had been coming home at odd hours just to disappear straight into his room or more often his study. It had been days since they’d spoken to each other despite living right down the hall from each other.

“And what about the others?” Wilford pressed. “How are they doing?”

“I admit, the mood has changed in the house,” Jameson said slowly. When Wilford waited for more, he sighed and added, “We’ve never gone this long without a visit from Master McLoughlin. Jackieboy has volunteered to run supplies for those in the neighborhood who need it, but staying inside so much is not his cup of jam. Poor Chase has lost all motivation to continue his video logs, while Marvin…”

He paused. Actually, outside of cancelling his shows for the foreseeable future, the magician hadn’t changed his habits that much. Not leaving his study for days at a time was perfectly normal behavior for him, although he was more willing to volunteer to go to the grocery store these days to save his brothers from having to do it.

Wilford nodded. “My boys are avoiding each other as well. The house hasn’t been this quiet in, well, ever, even Dark has noticed! Yan can’t go to school to see Senpai, Bim can’t find guests for his show, and you don’t know cabin fever until it affects the Ipliers.”

Jameson shuddered, not even wanting to imagine what that looked like. The Iplier house on a normal day was bad enough.

“Why, even Y/N has taken to self-isolating over at Mark and Amy’s place, and apparently taking them out for the occasional adventure in the middle of the night is ‘dangerous’ and ‘irresponsible’ all of a sudden.”

JJ considered pointing out it probably wasn’t “all of a sudden” but thought better of it.

“The point, my son of Jacks, is that they’re all too focused on the bad things, and don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of it to go around these days.” Wilford threw an arm around Jameson’s shoulder and spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “But you and me? We’ve been through this before, haven’t we? And we know the secret: this too will pass. We’ll get there, eventually. But until then, we need to get the others’ spirits up!”

“And to do that, we’re going to bake a cake?” Jameson’s slide failed to convey his doubt, but he had to admit the idea had a kind of simple charm to it.

“Now you get it!” Wilford said, thumping him hard on the back before turning to the arrayed ingredients. “This is going to be great!”

“Well, I do have some baking experience,” Jameson said as he picked up a simple recipe for a yellow cake he had laid to the side earlier. “And as long as we follow the recipe—Hey!”

Wilford snatched the recipe from JJ’s hand and tore it up with a snort. “We don’t need no recipe! How hard can baking a cake be?”

Jameson sighed, his palm pushing the brim of his bowler hat so far up it threatened to fall off of his head. This was going to be a long day.

After convincing Wilford that hands did not make for good measuring devices, an argument that went on for far too long, they managed to get as far as mixing together the sugar and butter before Jameson tapped his chin.

“Next is the eggs, I think. Was it two or three—Ah! Maybe I should be the one to—”

Too late. Wilford had already picked up an egg and, with one hand, cracked it over the bowl before tossing the eggshell over his shoulder and into the trash can without a single glance.

“…What?” Wilford asked.

Jameson opened his mouth and then shut it, unsure of what to say as Wilford continued to expertly crack open the next two eggs.

“Between you and me, I think your popup word thingy isn’t working properly,” Wilford said in a carrying whisper. “You might want to get that looked at.”

That surprise might have explained why JJ wasn’t prepared for when Wilford picked up the electric mixer, but the shout that followed suggested that Wilford wasn’t too prepared either. Several minutes of panicked mixing later, they were left with a large bowl of batter and a kitchen coated with a light dusting of flour and splattered half-mixed batter.

Jameson tossed the mixer in the sink where it could do no more harm and said, “Well, that happened. How about I grease the pans while you get the oven going?”

Wilford chuckled. “Oh, no no no, I’m not allowed to touch any major appliance after what happened with the dishwasher. And the washing machine. And the little mishap with the TV.”

Jameson considered asking but thought better of it, instead with some embarrassment admitting, “I, um, haven’t fully mastered this newfangled machine. I usually ask one of the others to help me, but…”

He looked around the kitchen, which he would much rather the others not see in its current state.

Wilford considered for a moment and then grinned. “Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do.”

“Oh, hey Jameson,” you said, unable to hide your surprise when you saw the dapper gentleman on the other side of your phone screen. You didn’t even know he knew what FaceTime was, not when texting was just barely within his comfort zone. “What’s up?”

The screen went black as a shaky speech slide appeared, the white letters reading, “This is a bit embarrassing to ask, but…”

The speech slide was pushed out of the way as Wilford leaned into view. “Do you think you could talk our lad here through using a modern oven?”

“I—Wilford? What are you doing there?” You frowned. “Don’t you know how to use an oven?”

“According to Chef Iplier, no. Not even a little bit,” Wilford answered with a smile, not even a bit ashamed. “Well, are you up to it?”

“I…I guess? JJ, can you turn the camera toward the oven so I can see it? No, that’s the floor, up a little more—”

It took a few minutes, but you managed to talk Jameson through preheating the oven and how to set a timer, finishing with, “And that should be it. Just don’t forget to turn it off when you’re done—"

“Got it, thanks Y/N, love you,” Wilford said, abruptly turning the phone off before you could finish or answer him. “Say, Jamieboy, what do we have in the way of food dye?”

You stared at the blank screen on your end and laughed to yourself before starting a text to Marvin, typing, “You might want to get some fire suppression spells ready.”

The response came back a few seconds later: “Already on it.”

—

Some time and an assist from Marvin’s magic later, you were standing with several of the other Septic egos in their dining room, looking at the pair of cakes arranged there.

“They’re very…colorful,” Chase managed, but like the others he didn’t seem eager to move any closer to it.

That it was. Pink and blue swirled icing heavily coated both cakes in messy globs, both colors so bright as to almost appear capable of glowing in the dark.

“Well, don’t just stand there! Try a piece!” Wilford picked up the knife and everyone in the room flinched. “What?”

��Maybe I should do that,” Jackieboy said, gingerly taking the knife from Wilford’s hand, who just shrugged and backed out of the way. The superhero cut into one of the cakes, revealing the same colors had been used to dye the inside as well, and carefully meted out slices onto waiting plates.

“Those slices aren’t very big,” Wilford said doubtfully.

“We want to save some for Hen, right guys?” Jackie said, looking to you, Marvin, and Chase for backup and getting nods in return. A lot easier to be polite when you only had to get through a small piece.

Very aware that JJ and Wilford were watching you, you dipped a fork into your slice and took a hesitant bite.

“This is really good!” you said, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice.

Wilford beamed as the others shared your surprise and dug in, but you looked at Jameson who shrugged and leaned in to whisper with a slide only you could see.

“I may have baked something similar before. That, and I was able to salvage a couple of pieces from the recipe when Wilford wasn’t looking.”

You nodded, having experienced some of Wilford’s cooking before he was permanently banned from the kitchen in the Iplier house, as well as Mark’s kitchen and Ethan’s kitchen. And judging by the shriek from the other room, he was about to add another to that growing list.

“Meine Küche!”

“Schneep’s home,” Marvin said without looking up from his plate.

“Wow, look at that, it’s time for us to go,” Wilford said, grabbing the Iplier’s cake and your arm. “See you around, Jamieboy!”

“Wait, you can’t just leave me to—” Jameson’s speech slide stopped abruptly as he stared at the empty place where you and Wilford had been standing just a second ago, before it turned into a garble of censored swears. He turned to face the doctor storming into the room, mask dangling from one ear to reveal his anger, and attempted a smile.

“…Would you like a piece of cake?”

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fluffy fools #wilford warfstache #jameson jackson #y/n #cake #quarantine references #fanfiction

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shadydirt · 4 years

Text

A continuation from yesterday’s prompt! (Which you can find here)

Day 7 - Free Day

@rwby-guard-dogs-week

[27(8) DOS - Day 7]

/Hurt II/

When Marrow woke up the first thing he heard was an annoying steady pace of beeps.

He recognized the sound, a fire alarm.

His eyes shot open in an instant, taking in the situation he found himself in. He was in an unfamiliar room, he could smell bacon but no fire, he heard people talking in another room.

“Great, hun, you’re going to wake the girls.” A woman’s voice.

He could hear a man's laughter follow suit, “Why, yes, but I do suppose they’re used to it by now.”

There was no fire, he concluded at the sound of casual chatter, someone burnt their breakfast.

While that was certainly a relief, he did find himself racking his brain for an answer as to where he was. His headache and sore muscles reminded him he’d had a long day at work, that he’d gone out with some of his old squad-mates to a cop bar in their precinct. He must’ve drunk too much, he couldn’t remember much after arriving.

He looked around the cramped room, warm golden streeks flowed through swaying white curtains with an orange floral pattern, they skitted over the white-sheeted bed, hitting a large old looking ebony dresser with photo frames and various trinkets littered about on top. The dresser was only a few feet from the queen-sized bed he sat on that’d been jammed into the corner farthest from the door, yet it was on the opposing wall. Marrow figured the room had to have been only a ten by ten-foot square- small for a bedroom.

The door was painted white wood to match the white molding around the room, a soft yellow paint having been used for the walls themselves. At the foot of the bed, he noticed a large ebony bookshelf -clearly, a matching set to the dresser- that had been packed full of books, a deep blue beanbag pushed up against its side with a couple of books on it as well. There was a nightstand- painted bright white and obviously too modern to match the rest of the furnishings- to his left, on the only side of the bed one would exit from seeing it was surrounded by wall, wall, and bookshelf.

On the nightstand was a small lamp, the shade decorated with stickers of cop cars and fire engines, something leftover from childhood he assumed, and three items he recognized very well. His phone, his badge, and his gun.

By the brothers above he got drunk and left his gun out in the open for some stranger to take? He felt his chest tighten at the thought of all the things that could’ve gone wrong. What had he been thinking? He could’ve been shot or gotten someone else shot for that matter. Not to mention the trouble he’d get in for being so reckless.

“Sweetheart,” He could hear the woman’s voice again, followed by mumbling of another, “Just where do you think you’re going with those?” She didn’t speak in a harsh tone, it was soft, motherly.

“Moooooom,” That voice was familiar, even as tired and drawn out as it sounded. “I’ll only be a minute.” Jaune Arc. That had to have been his partner, no doubt about it. He heard the padding of footsteps coming closer, and he looked over to the door. This was Jaune Arc’s house. He realized, watching the door open, his very disheveled partner walking in with one hand on the doorknob and the other holding two mugs by the handles. Those were his parents he heard. “You’re awake,” Jaune smiled at him, pushing the door closed.

This wasn’t the pristine over-achieving detective with jelled up hair and a clean uniform without a button out of place, tie always held in with a clip that he had come to know since he transferred. This man had messy bed-head -half of which was falling in his face- and he wore a pair of baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, one sleeve pushed up to his elbow while the other had been down to his palm.

“Uh-” Marrow had to clear his throat, scratchy as it always was in the morning. The blond offered him one of the mugs silently, still smiling. He took it carefully, mind racing with a million things to say. How did he get here? Why was he here? What exactly transpired last night? “Yes?” It came out as a question and he cocked his head to the side, staring up at his partner.

He noticed Jaune stifling a laugh at that, setting the remaining mug on the nightstand. “You don’t remember much, do you?” The younger moved to drag the beanbag close, discarding the books onto the floor.

“I don’t even remember talking to you after I punched out.” Marrow admitted with a sigh, looking into the mug he’d been given. Coffee, by the smell, It looked light, too. He brought it up to his lips, unsure of heat and taste. Jaune took pause, still smiling but clearly thinking, focus on his own mug.

“It’s a long story.” The other finally seemed to settle on, waving vaguely around the small bedroom. Jaune’s bedroom, Marrow figured, it being a tad too personal to make for a guest room. “We share a shift in about an hour though,” He added, “So perhaps you should focus on getting dressed,” He stood, “I’ll let you use the shower if you’re quiet. If my mom sees you it’s all over.” He chuckled.

Marrow glanced about the room again. “Jaune,”

“Yes?”

“My clothes,” The older didn’t see them anywhere.

“Oh!” His eyes opened wide in realization. “I washed them when I woke, I’ll go get them I’m sure the dryer’s done by now.” With that Marrow was left alone again, blinking as he thought about the interaction they’d just shared.

How long had Jaune been awake before then, to have washed and dried his clothes?

---

When Marrow woke up the first thing he heard was an annoying steady pace of beeps.

He recognized the sound, a heart monitor.

His eyes slowly opened, wincing at the bright white lights he found himself under, taking in the situation he found himself in. He was in an unfamiliar room, it smelled of latex and cleaners. Definitely a hospital, he could hear people talking out in the hall, but they were just passing by conversations, nothing he could really make out.

He looked around the small room from his place propped up in a hospital bed, noting that he was alone, surrounded by medical equipment- nothing other than vital measurements and an I.V. actually hooked up to him- and a few chairs. The room was rather dull, tile floors and white painted walls, there was a television mounted on the wall in front of him, a whiteboard was mounted near it with a nurse’s name with times she would be by on her rounds and a few other things that Marrow couldn’t make out with the size that the writing was.

“Yes,” He could hear a man’s voice above the others, “With some rest and physical therapy he should be back to where he was before.” He sounded professional, like a doctor.

“Right,” Jaune. Marrow’s heart skipped a beat, eyes moving quickly to the open door that he had yet to see the blond’s frame in. “Thank you.” He heard footsteps moving closer before watching his very disheveled partner walk in, one paper cup in each hand. “You’re awake,” Jaune smiled at him, moving closer.

This wasn’t the sweet early-rising bedmate with messy bed-head and baggy clothes that never fit him right, one piece or another always having been stolen the night prior that he had come to know since that morning back in May. This man had hair that was at one point jelled to stile but had now been picked through -sticking this way and that- and he wore a stained policeman's uniform, short sleeves revealing a decent amount of what looked to be dried blood that smeared his arms.

“Uh-” Marrow had to clear his throat, scratchy from lack of use. The blond set one of the cups down on a small wheeling table that was currently resting to Marrow’s left. Jaune looked relieved, to say the least. What had happened to get him into the hospital? “Yes?” It came out as a question and he cocked his head to the side, staring up at his partner.

The other man chuckled softly and Marrow felt a sense of Deja Vu come over him. “You don’t remember much, do you?”

#guarddogsweek2020 #michawrites #27daysofship #guarddogs #jaune arc #marrow amin #jaune x marrow #rwby #rwby jaune #rwby marrow #rwby guarddogs

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antoine-roquentin · 5 years

Link

For decades, purveyors of the rhetoric of technocratic stability have outsourced their and their voters’ most sadistic and unpalatable beliefs and impulses to the far right. But Schäuble’s career suggests that, while technocratic governance has countless mechanisms to repress its own inherent cruelty and outsource them to the fringes, there is a kind of cruelty that comes from, and is enjoyed at, the center rather than the fringes. To many of its subjects—refugees being told that persecution without torture isn’t enough to win them asylum, unemployed workers being forced to provide all their rejection letters to prove they’re actively looking for work, Greek politicians being told to cut loose the country’s pensioners in the order to reassure investors—this inherent cruelty is wholly self-evident.

Schäuble himself understood early on that technocracy has its sadistic side, and he has embraced it. Both major German parties have in the last thirty years occasionally lapsed into a politics of administered cruelty. The Treuhandanstalt (Trust Agency) that privatized the state-owned companies in East Germany, the safety-net cuts of “Agenda 2010,” and the draconian austerity measures after the financial crisis of 2008—all of these were approached by serious old men in smart suits in boardrooms with a kind of resigned shrug. We don’t like it either, they seemed to say, but this is what needs to happen. Schäuble, however, didn’t shrug at all—he seemed to feel genuine glee at the dictates that everyone else pretended to accept only reluctantly. Politicians of his type have been adept at making sound quantitative and objective what ultimately boils down to a demand for suffering, for mortification.

The success of the AfD suggests that Schäuble shares the recognition that alternativelessness has its religious, sacrificial dimension with a growing segment of voters in Germany. These voters have long recognized the carefully sublimated cruelty of alternativelessness; in many cases they’ve been at the receiving end of it. They accepted some of that cruelty for themselves, although very little—nothing more than a light paddle and an available safe word. But above all they demanded that, whatever cruelty the system meted out to them or people like them, it visit ten times that onto the Other. The AfD began as a party of technocrats, and its founders frequently seem surprised by how it sleepwalked from deficits and Euroskepticism to overt racism and illiberalism. One of the movement’s forerunners was Thilo Sarrazin, once an economist at Germany’s central bank, who at some point went from prognosticating that runaway deficits would spell Germany’s doom to prognosticating that runaway procreation by “hijab-girls” would spell Germany’s doom.

It’s a trajectory that isn’t actually all that surprising. Thanks to politicians like Schäuble, for decades now these voters have become used to being applauded for this perspective. Their coldness was reconceptualized as maturity, realism, steeliness of resolve. As the refugees arrived in 2015, CSU’s Secretary General worried that society would “implode” and “the people” would rise up. “Anyone who doesn’t recognize this,” he added about his bit of apocalyptic fan fiction, “ignores reality.” Pragmatic positions were recast as “political correctness,” as “failed multiculturalism,” while bizarre fantasies about racial civil war could stake a claim to being the “realistic” or “serious” position. This is how documents like the German Basic Law, with its talk about “the dignity of man,” or international asylum conventions, could seem to them like softhearted hippie tracts. The only realistic way of looking at the world was looking to make it hurt.

Adorno once spoke of the “categorical imperative of ‘never again’,” and the anxiety with which people watch unemployment figures in Germany is all about this “again”—about fascism as relapse, as repetition. It is against this background that the 12.6 percent of the vote the AfD won nationally in last year’s elections constitutes an incredible shock. Against the easy sociology and the old stories, what the result actually highlights is that Germany now specializes in a fascism in the midst of satiety. Perhaps even a fascism of satiety. And that this, rather than some vague revival of Nazism, is the shape that far-right populism has long taken in the country. As the historian Birte Förster put it on Twitter: “It’s not like Weimar, it’s not like 1933, it’s like Germany, 2018.”

After World War II, German nationalism became an impossibility. It survived largely by being refracted through economics, above all exports. Affluence at home gave people the feeling that “we are somebody again,” as the saying went. The wave of German cars, wares and weapons washing over Europe and the world took the place of German troops. Germans have long moralized economics (not for nothing did Max Weber write The Protestant Ethic in Heidelberg), but after World War II economics to some extent replaced politics: it reconciled Germany with its neighbors and former victims, it finally integrated Germany in an interconnected Europe, and eventually it dismantled the Iron Curtain and unified the country.

But in hindsight it is hard to miss the fact that this economic system, for all its technocratic mousiness, was suffused with displaced affective energy. And not just pride in one’s own wealth, but also a sadistic glee over the misery of others, which is interpreted in similarly moral or theological terms as Germany’s postwar economic success. This was true both between Germany and its neighbors and within Germany itself. Nachtwey probably underplays the ethnic dimension of what he calls “social modernity.” Unlike the New Deal in the United States, postwar affluence in Germany was not explicitly premised on racial stratification. Nevertheless, it’s hard not to sense a connection between the kind of solidarity that underpinned the postwar system of “social market capitalism” and the fact that the massive amounts of wealth created never went to the new arrivals in the country—the Turks, Italians, Greeks, and Yugoslavs who were at any rate still referred to as “guest workers,” even after decades in the country, sometimes even after obtaining German citizenship.

The righteous fury with which Germans have voiced their suspicion that most immigrants aren’t “really” refugees, but are, horror horrorum, motivated by hopes for a better life, is of a piece with this moralization. Germans have become good at denying others what they take to be their own birthright: they are terrified of foreigners taking their jobs, and then inundate Austrian medical schools and Swiss hospitals. They demanded that Greece put its pension system on a sustainable footing, but managed no such thing themselves during decades of affluence. In an infamous 2009 interview that prefigured the rhetoric of the AfD, Sarrazin claimed that “70 percent of Turkish and 90 percent of the Arab population of Berlin . . . live off the state but reject that state.” The irony is that, from retirees via the underemployed rural voters to professionals getting rich off subventions and the dividends of the social safety net, this describes pretty much the average AfD voter.

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snowflake-apocalypse · 5 years

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The Alexandria Manuscripts Caper- Revised

-Notes: I went back and edited my story, I think it’s better this time. I’ll post it on A03, too.

This would take place 4 months after “The French Connection Caper”. Devineaux was in the hospital for 2 months, and now he is taking recovery leave. Julia has been working on her own for the time being. The getaway scene could seem far-fetched, but situations can’t be perfect all the time. So for the sake of the story, that’s what I went with.———————————————————————Alexandria, Egypt.

Professor Maelstrom has orchestrated in the theft of many of the manuscripts housed in the Bibliotheca Alexandria. Claiming the modern world has lost it’s right to such knowledge. But Team Red is on the case, that’s not gonna fly. The entire retrieval goes smooth. But upon returning the manuscripts to their home..

Breaking into the museum, simple enough. Putting the manuscripts back in their cases, without setting off thermal security alarms, easy peasy. Not a soul around to offer their gratitude, but Carmen doesn’t mind, she’s used to this being her life now.

Though, unbeknownst to her, someone couldn’t sleep that night.

Due to her insomnia, restless legs, and the ever present sense of emptiness, Julia wanders the cool North African night. Stretching her legs and getting some fresh air would be good for her, she thinks.

She floats up and down the lonely, desolate streets, past cafe’s with chairs on the tables. The world is slumbering, because why shouldn’t it be?

Eventually making her way to the library, “can I never let work rest?” chastising herself. When she catches a glimpse of something moving about the library. Walking a bit closer to investigate, Julia discovers none other than La Femme Rouge, placing the manuscripts back into their homes. Restoring knowledge to the world. Disbelief that she is watching this happen first hand and a sense of satisfaction that “I was right!” wash over her.

////

Once again, Carmen is moving to make her stealthy escape. Although due to the street layout, the high security scoping the area, to include helicopters and roving guards, but not limited to the infinite number of cameras waiting for you to say “Cheese!” makes this getaway a bit muckier.

Our Lady in Red is sneaking around corners, dodging this cop, and that street light...

“Something not right.. these officers shouldn’t be here right now... Oh, man that’s a cop!” Carmen’s internal anxieties at the foremost of her mind as she almost bumps right into a guard.

“Player! I thought you said the guards would be doing shift change right now.”

“They we’re supposed to. That was the schedule in the security manager’s email. Must be an impromptu change....?”

”Oh for cryin’ out-!” Player can practically feel her eyes roll.

There’s no where to go. Carmen scrambles around a street corner, coat swishing behind her. The guard isn’t sure, but he thinks he sees something move around the corner. There’s a team of five guards down at the end of the street. She’s stuck. In a last ditch effort, Carmen backs up against the wall, schucks her hat and coat and stands really still. In her entire professional career, Carmen has never had a escape go this narrow. The guard continues his sceptic jaunt down the alley, until a voice rings out.

“Um, excuse me, sir! There are are alarms going of about three blocks from here. I think they may have been broken into.”

Jules.

Carmen moves from her spot along the wall, giving her this flabbergasted stare, like “what...” Julia gives a quick, subtle jerk of her head, silently saying “get out of here.”

The officer and Julia make their way from the alley and Carmen dashes away from the scene, coat and hat in hand. Julia sighs with relief, they go their separate ways. As Carmen is making her hasty escape, Player perks up on the line,

“Uh, what just happened?”

“I dunno.”

////

Moments later on a rooftop...

Carmen has donned her coat and hat once again, she and her other half are discussing what to make of the unexpected assist.

“I mean, why would she do that? Interpol and this ACME for all we know is dead set on catching me..so what’s the deal?”

“Maybe she remembered when you left her the Magna Carta. Maybe she doesn’t think you’re the thief everyone else thinks you are.”

Without knowing for sure, all Carmen can do is make doubtful conclusions, the city below offering no condolence.

////

Later at the Hotel Hideout..

The siblings are up, watching a movie and eating pizza, awaiting their fearless leader to return.

”Hey, Carm. How’d the drop off go?”

“Hey, Zach. Oh, there was a close call with the police... too close. But, the manuscripts are all safely back home. Team Red: One Billion, V.I.L.E: Zero.” as she snatches a slice of pizza from the almost empty box.

After changing, Carmen rejoins her friends in the living area. The three eat pizza and continue the movie. Though, Carmen’s not paying the movie any attention. She mulling over why Julia would help her. And not knowing is driving her insane. She won’t be able to rest otherwise. Abruptly getting up to retrieve her coat. Ivy pipes up,

“Where you going?”

“Out.” Carmen curtly replies.

And with that, she’s off out the window to hopefully, get some answers.

////

Back in her hotel room, after telling the police officer “Well, they were going off when I walked by.” Julia shakes her head at her ridiculous story. She’s standing by the stove, anxiously awaiting water to boil in the kettle. The vast hotel room only being lit by a small lamp. Julia’s attempts to justify her actions to her intrusive thoughts, that letting Carmen go was the right thing to do, eventually falter, she’s just too tired now. She pours the water into a mug, steeps a strong cup of earl grey, idly making her way to a chair in the corner.

////

A hop and skip away, Carmen looks carefully to the room, sees a small light on, and goes for it. She picks the lock on the window with quiet ease, silently entering the room, nearly giving Julia a heart attack, though half of her tea manages to stay in the cup.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” The Crimson Ghost fumbling over an apologize.

“Says the woman sneaking through the window.” Julia sits down with frustration and weariness that grew through the night, and all Carmen can do is sheepishly smile.

“I apologize for the intrusion. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” This is Julia’s sad attempt at being dismissive. She damn well knows what.

Carmen hesitates momentarily, then sits in the chair across from Julia. She draws in a deep, measured breath, and exhales, looking Julia right in the eyes. Each of her next words, like loaded bullets in a gun.

“Why did you help me?”

Now it’s Julia’s breath deep and hesitate. She reverts her eye contact before speaking,

“Because... for the longest time I believed that you didn’t just steal to steal. That you weren’t the one originally stealing. You had reasons for what you did... and tonight confirmed I was right.”

Carmen stays attentively silent as she takes in everything Julia is saying. Gears are turning, because hey, there’s someone in the law that believes in her. Then Carmen makes the realization and her expression goes soft.

“...You saw me return the manuscripts..”

Julia simply sighs, closing her eyes with a small nod. Now Carmen’s mind is racing with what now’s and what if’s, and the floor just became very interesting to look at.

Julia shakes Carmen out of her hectic thoughts,

“I never thought you were malicious, or cruel, or vile..” Carmen shooting her head up at the mention of “vile”.

“After Devineaux was kidnapped I was so afraid-“

“That wasn’t me! It was... you just have to believe that I would never do that.” Carmen exclaims, springing up from her chair in alarm.

”I know. After surveying the scene... I’m just glad your both alright.” Julia, now at peace with the situation at hand.

And with that exchange the two are now sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Julia speaks up.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

A bit surprised at how the night turned, Carmen takes her up on the warm drink.

“Um, yes please.”

Carmen now has this goofy grin on her face when Julia turns her back. The two sit and talk some more, drink their tea. After an hour, cups are empty and minds are tired. Carmen gets up to leave through the window.

“Well, thank you for the tea...and talking. Have a good night, Jules.”

“Goodnight...Carmen.”

Carmen left before she could hear Julia speak her name. Now Julia stands alone, with a small, tired smile.

Carmen is making her way, rooftop to roof top, back to the hotel.

“So what’s the verdict? Do we have a friend on the other side?” Player inquires.

“Yeah... we just might...” A hopeful smile rests on her face.

#carmen sandeigo 2019 #julia argent #fanfic #long post #carulia #carmen sandiego #cs player

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taotrooper · 5 years

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In fine feather: chapter 1

On AO3

Title: In Fine Feather Characters: Mainly Wei Wuxian. In this chapter, Jiang Fengmian, Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng Pairings: eventual wangxian down the road Genres: Wingfic, Fantasy AU, Youkai AU (sorta), Modern AU with Magic, Fish out of Water, Family Dynamics, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Adopted Siblings, Changelings, Misunderstandings, Coming of Age, Slice of Life Summary: Wei Ying thought he was a normal orphan boy until one night, while still a child, a pair of black wings burst out from his back. After he discovers he's a member of a race of spirits and is taken by a family of winged beings, he has to adapt to a new culture and species which isn't easy. Always charming and clever, he gets to heal his traumas and be loved by his new relatives, he learns how to fly and cast magic spells, he makes friends with other kids his age, he confuses everyone with his references from the human world. Most importantly, he learns his own worth. And much later as he grows, he finds love in a friend, and eccentric ways to bridge the mystical mountains with the good things he left behind Notes: CW references of children being violent and abusive towards another kid. It's not that graphic, and beyond the first couple of chapters I doubt this will come up again, but still merits a warning

When little Wei Ying came to his senses, he wasn't on the ground anymore.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a clear night sky and stars that flickered like freckles of light in infinity. It was daytime when he had fallen asleep in a forgotten corner, in a lonely alley, yet this wasn't the strangest part. How was he even seeing so much sky, not blocked by a single building or part of a ceiling? Yet no, it was all wide and endless.

The cold wind hit his face immediately; it made his back pain worse, but it refreshed his burning skin. He was moving somehow and his body was slowly swaying up and down like a boat. He then realized there were arms that held him tight, on the crook under his knees and carefully around his shoulders.

He couldn't see the face of the person well. By the size, it had to be an adult. Alarmed, the boy tried to get away —which hurt plenty, in his state—, but when he looked below he changed his mind and froze his brusque movements.

He saw shiny city lights below. Not only that, they looked distant: he was meters and meters above the land. Neither ground to stand on or feet were visible.

Scared and too sore to jerk again, he raised his head to take a look at what he imagined was a kidnapper. The face was obscured by the darkness, but he could perceive two things. First, long hair and broad shoulders. That wasn't much to work with, but the next observation made him forget these features.

Something flapped behind the figure. Wings! Wings like a bird's on his back!

"Relax," a soothing masculine voice came from the face's direction. "Don't stir or you'll fall. You're safe now."

Was this real or a dream? Was this a delirium from his fever? Was this a personification of death coming for him?

Or was this man... someone like him?

The arms still retained his back, still made indirect contact with the fuzzy origin of his pain.

Wei Ying was too weak to ask, too sleepy to worry, too sick to think. He closed his eyes again without noticing, and dozed off for the rest of the flight.

*****

The next time the boy opened his eyes, he was on a soft bed and lying on his stomach. Sunshine filled an unknown room and birds could be heard singing outside. His head, propped upwards by a tall pillow underneath, felt lighter and refreshed. His back still pulsed in a deaf pain, but not remotely as severe as before. There was a pressure that restricted his movements: he felt the bandages across his torso and backside that someone had dressed him with. He also wasn't wearing his dirty ragged clothes or blanket anymore, but some sort of flowing robes with big sleeves.

He tried to turn on his side to get up, but it was uncomfortable. They had bandaged those things too, completely immobilized.

Still partially asleep, and not knowing exactly what had happened to him and what had been a dream, he felt goosebumps across his arms and panic swirling in his stomach. Was he in danger? Should he run away? Could he run away?

He didn't need to make a choice, since the door opened slowly and a girl came inside with a tray in her hands and a smile on her face.

She was probably a couple of years older than Wei Ying. She had long hair braided in two elaborate buns and wore a pretty hanfu dress. But what really drew Wei Ying's attention was the two feathered wings folded behind her back. They were of a beautiful shade of purple, iridescent feathers like a hummingbird's.

"Oh, you're awake!" she beamed, as though Wei Ying was someone precious and him being there was a blessing. That confused him, but his defenses immediately went down against his will with her aura. "Hi, how are you feeling?"

"...Better?" The boy rested his chin on the pillow to see her with more clarity. Then he waited until she grabbed a chair and sat down, resting the tray on her thighs. She put a hand on his forehead, like Miss Shu used to do to measure temperature when someone had a cold. "Uh, who are you? Are you an angel?"

The girl tilted her head. "Oh, sorry, you must be so confused. My name is Jiang Yanli and it's very nice to meet you! What's an angel?" She put down the lid on top of a ceramic bowl. A good, comforting smell reached his nose. "You must be starving, the poor thing. Please don't get up or move from there, I'll feed you."

Jiang Yanli grabbed a spoon and took a spoonful of soup towards Wei Ying's mouth. He lifted his torso as much as he could and opened his jaw wide. It was the most delicious broth he had ever had. She giggled after seeing his satisfied expression.

"Let me explain. My father found you and took you home three days ago."

"So that winged man was real!" he gasped.

"Of course he was." She kept refilling the spoon and giving Wei Ying more food. He licked his lips after each time. "You had a fever and an infection and one of your wings was broken. Well, still is. The doctor said you have to stay in bed until it heals."

"But I'm..." He swallowed his original argument along with the lotus root he was offered since it was moot: they had those things on their back, just like he did. They wouldn't think of him as a monster if they were just the same as him, right? But was he even worth staying in such a pretty house? They even called a doctor. They were spending money on him. Assuming they used money at all.

"No buts. Please be a good kid and rest. Here, drink this medicine."

Softly but firmly she gave him an elixir that was also on the tray. It was bitter and ruined the taste of pork and lotus roots in his mouth.

"Um," he finally said. "I don't have any money or gold or bird seed or whatever you use. I can't repay you. Is it really okay that I stay?"

Without saying a word, Jiang Yanli placed her hand on Wei Ying's head and caressed him, tousling his short dark hair with her fingers. He felt a pang in the chest that was unrelated to the tight bandages, and before he knew it he felt tears running through his cheeks. How embarrassing.

"Don't worry about that. Just focus on getting better, okay? If you need to cry, go ahead. I won't tell anyone!"

She kept comforting him for a while until he let go of all the sadness and loss he had felt in the last week or so.

"Thank you, big sis. You're so kind," he said between sobs, moved. "Are you sure I didn't die and this isn't Heaven?"

"Not at all, you're in Yushan, the Feather Mountains," she said with a serious tone but still with a smile.

These bird people aren't really that good at names, Wei Ying thought. Then again, the same could be said of him, as he remembered how he called his old toys. Maybe that's where he got it from.

"Dad should be back in the evening." She raised the tray and got up. "He knows the whole story and he'll be better at explaining everything. So just rest and sleep until he returns."

"Okay, okay. Got it. I'll be a good boy for big sis. And the soup was the best I've ever had!" He also smiled.

"You're already a good boy, A-Xian. See you later, okay?"

After a pat on the head, Jiang Yanli left him alone in the big room with more questions than answers.

"Wait, why did you call me A-Xian?" he asked out loud.

He felt like the room, so illuminated and warm while the girl barged in, suddenly turned darker with her absence.

*****

Wei Ying didn't notice when he had fallen asleep again. The then almost familiar pain kicked in at full force again and he bit his lip. He realized he was probably given a painkiller and the effect must have passed already. He felt sharpness like knives where the wings met his back's open skin, and even the most infinitesimal move in his body made him wince. It made sense, though. Those were deep cuts after all. Even if these bird people had patched it in, it was still a wound.

The broken wing also throbbed underneath the bandages, but it wasn't as bad as his back.

The boy was bored out of his mind. All he could do was examining the room from his fancy bed. The furniture, the window, the door, it all looked old-fashioned and traditional. There were no electric lamps or appliances, much less a TV set or a radio to entertain himself with. Even hospitals had those sort of things. This patient was going to die from a different condition if he couldn't find a distraction.

All he could do was reliving that night in his head, over and over. The agony and impotence at the pain. The blood he couldn't see but felt dripping down his back. The terrible sensation of those things bursting out of his flesh, his skin and muscles feeling like torn part by the new limbs all of a sudden. The deafening screams got louder as bones he shouldn't have grew and formed, covered in bloodied feathers.

The faces of horror and nausea of his roommates and friends echoing and amplifying the emotions in his chest. Yells, tears, hands dragging him out of the bunk bed. Poor Miss Shu, staring with wide eyes and covering her mouth with her hand before running to call for help, not knowing what was going to happen when she left them alone. Then... the insults, the punches, the kicks coming from the older boys. The pain getting worse, not only on his back but in his heart. Escaping as fast as he could.

Even inside that room, even after he met others like him, he couldn't shake that fear and hatred away yet. Every pang since that night was a reminder he was not human anymore. Had he even been a human being at any point, he wondered?

Oh well, he couldn't do anything about it if he was a monster. At least he wasn't the only one!

Later in the afternoon, the door opened again.

A child around his age charged in, his posture upright as if he owed the place. Or at least Wei Ying though he was a boy because of his outfit and scowl, since his hairstyle —long and tied in a bun— was not something he had seen yet in children of his gender outside of TV. While he also wore hanfu clothing, they looked masculine and he was wearing trousers unlike Yanli and her flowing dress. Everything and everyone in that house seemed like they came out of a period drama.

But that wasn't the most shocking part about the kid: He had no wings.

"Huh? There's a human here?" Wei Ying blurted out and blinked.

The boy in hanfu reacted as though he had been slapped in the face.

"What did you say? Who are you calling a human?!" the boy cried.

"Well, aren't you? I mean, you don't have wings like that guy and that girl."

The boy rushed to stand in front of Wei Ying's face and crossed his arms.

"I see, so you're not only rude and dirty but stupid as well."

"What? Why? Who are you calling stupid?"

It was Wei Ying's turn to pout and get annoyed. Why was he the rude one when the other boy was the one insulting his intelligence? In fact, he had been one of the cleverest kids in the House and prided himself from not having to study much or at all for most tests. He had the multiplication table memorized up to 12 perfectly.

"Don't call me a filthy human or I'll break your other wing!! I'm as much as a dianshen as you are. Even more!"

Wei Ying blinked again. "I'm sorry, a what now?"

"That's the name of our people." The boy rolled his eyes. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

"Ah, I thought we were just bird monsters or demons or something." He hadn't heard the words well, but the first part sounded like heaven, tian, and the second as god or spirit, shen. "Are we... gods?"

"Hmph, do I have to explain even that to you? No, we're not gods, but we're so much more than humans. We're high-leveled spiritual beings."

"Oh, spirits? Like fairies and crap?"

"Yes, but we're much cooler than the other fairy species." The boy grinned and raised his chin.

Wei Ying hummed. Well, it was nice to be told exactly what kind of creature he was. "Okay. But if you're one of those tianshen things..."

"DIANshen!" The kid stomped his foot. "Spirit of the mountain summon!"

"Yeah, whatever. Show me the characters later. If you're one of those, then why don't you have wings?"

The boy hit his forehead with his palm.

"No one is born with them, idiot. You didn't have wings until now, remember? We grow them when we're between 9 and 11."

Suddenly everything made sense. He was nine years old. "...Ah! That's why!" Instinctively, Wei Ying tried to rise up, and he felt a terrible cramp in the wound at the root of his wings.

The boy suppressed a snicker and sat on the chair by the bed. "I should wing any time soon, in any case. And mine will be stronger than yours."

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say." After that boast, even though he didn't like his wings at all and one had been broken, Wei Ying wanted to accept that challenge just to show him. In any case, the guy being all proud at tiny things was cute, and insults aside he was amusing when he was angry. Wei Ying wouldn't mind becoming his friend, considering he had lost all of his previous ones. So he smiled at him as warmly as he could with his backache killing him. "Hey, let's start this again. I'm Wei Ying. What's your name?

"Jiang Cheng, courtesy name Jiang Wanyin."

"Ah, Jiang like Jiang Yanli, the cute sweet sister with the delicious soup."

"Yanli's my big sister." Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by the fact Wei Ying liked her.

"Ah, you're the young lord of the house? Ahahaha! Nice to meet you, Jiang Cheng."

"Can't say the same, you're kind of rude and dumb."

"Pffft. Don't be such a sour bird."

It took Wei Ying a big effort, but still lying down he reached out with one arm, hoping to shake hands with the other boy. Jiang Cheng just stared at the offered hand and didn't take it.

"See, to me that's rude," Wei Ying retorted without losing his good humor.

"What do you want me to do? Stretch my arm too?"

Wei Ying suddenly understood the problem. That was a modern human custom imported from the West. Of course these vintage Chinese fairy bird spirits would not know how to deal with it.

"Ah, right. Grab it and squeeze it," he explained. Jiang Cheng sighed and did as told, and let Wei Ying move his hand up and down a couple of times.

"That's a bit silly," Jiang Cheng said. "Besides, you're the one who should learn how to greet our way."

"Of course, I'll do that. But for that you gotta teach me how, dude," Wei Ying beamed wider.

The boy closed one hand in a fist and touched his other hand's open palm with it. Then he made a bow. It looked incredibly old-fashioned from Wei Ying's point of view, just like the decoration and the clothes.

"Pardon my manners. I want to do it, but I'm in pain and I don't think the bandages would let me bow," Wei Ying said with honesty.

Jiang Cheng glanced at Wei Ying's back even though it was covered by the bedsheets. It looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he sighed and never did.

"I should get going," he muttered instead. "I have a lesson coming up now and I'll be late."

"Aww, too bad. Can't you skip class? I'm so bored here... And I need help to pee..."

Jiang Cheng shook his head. "I'm not getting in trouble with my mother for someone this dumb. And I doubt I can get you up! I'll send someone to help, pain killers, and a book because you certainly need more culture."

"Thanks, dude. Do you dianshen have comic books?"

"I have never heard of those," Jiang Cheng got up.

"Fine, a normal book will do. I actually like those too, believe it or not. Thank you for everything, young master." Wei Ying tapped his palm with his fist without folding his arms or bowing, the best he could.

"You're learning fast." Jiang Cheng's grin as he opened the door felt less cynical than before.

*****

It wasn't until the sun was setting down that he met the enigmatic winged man again. He arrived with a bright lamp which he set on a table. Wei Ying wondered how it worked, since a candle would be dimmer and he doubted they had any electric batteries.

"Good evening, young master Wei" he said as he sat at the border of the bed to check on the bandages. "I heard you finally woke up."

If his children looked like extras in a wuxia movie, that guy could be one of the main characters. His hair was long with parts tied up in a topknot and two perfect side braids. If the bird men had shampoo commercials, that length would be perfect for one. His outfit was quite fancy, too. His face was good-looking, but most importantly it irradiated serenity. Also, now Wei Ying could see his wings were violet. Not as shiny as Yanli's but the hue was still a cool color.

"Um, hello," Wei Ying stammered.

"Hello to you too, I'm happy to meet you at last." He gave him a tender smile. "My name is Jiang Fengmian and it's a pleasure."

"Same here." Wei Ying did his best to do as much of the greeting as he could.

"Ah, don't overdue it. I'm afraid you'll have to rest and move very little for days to come." Just as he had feared. Since the boy looked sad, Jiang Fengmian continued. "So I heard you already met my children. You seem to have caused an opposite impression on A-Li and A-Cheng."

With that comment, Wei Ying knew that Jiang Cheng had described him to his father as stupid and rude. He was not surprised. He wondered if he should say something to disprove it, like reciting the hardest multiplication tables, but he felt unusually shy around this person. And he had so many questions as well.

"A-Xian, you must be confused. Please tell me what's on your mind, and ask me anything you don't understand, no matter how small."

In that case... "Yeah, well. How did you find me in the middle of a city? Why did you save me? Where is this place? Why are you guys calling me A-Xian? How come the cameras on satellites have not caught dianshen flying on video?"

The man laughed, but not in a mocking manner.

"I cannot answer to the last one unless you give me a translation, but let's start with the others. Do you... Do you remember your parents?"

Wei Ying stirred inside the bedclothes. "Not really. When I was little, they found me with a wound in my head in the middle of nowhere. It was pretty weird. All I could remember was my own name. I was told they notified the cops but there was no report of a missing boy with my name or description, so I was sent to the closest orphanage." As he went through the earliest memories he held, he started to tie things together with the knowledge he was not human. "Did I, um... fall from the sky or something?"

"That was indeed the case," Jiang Fengmian sighed. "I can enlighten you but unfortunately it's not going to be a happy story."

It already wasn't, so Wei Ying shrugged.

"I knew you and your parents. Your father was Wei Changze and he was my best friend since childhood. Your mother was Cangse Sanren. They were good people and they loved you, their only child, very much. Your family liked to travel and meet new places. You were even born during one of those trips. I think your family was likely happy and free."

Wei Changze. Cangse Sanren. Wei Ying repeated the names in his head a few times, hoping he wouldn't forget again.

"But something happened," he said.

"As much as we can predict and sometimes even control the weather, sometimes it's too much even for us." Jiang Fengmian's face showed distress. "A hurricane knocked your traveling carriage over. We managed to track Changze-xiong's whereabouts but it was too late. Madam Cangse was found miles away and passed away before we could move her. But you, Wei Wuxian, were not near either of your parents' bodies. The whirlwind must have tossed you away from them and quite far, considering you ended up in a human city."

He felt chills down his spine. He wasn't expecting it to sound so tragic.

"Oh, there it is again. A-Xian, Wuxian. Why?"

"Our kind uses two names, my boy. Wei Ying was your birth name. Wei Wuxian was the courtesy name that your parents had chosen for you once you had your wings."

Jiang Fengmian took an object from his pocket and gave it to him. It was a silver bell with a red tassle, the three characters of his courtesy name engraved on its round surface. He twirled it between his fingers. Wei Ying's heart started to ache as an echo of his wings', for those parents he couldn't remember anymore.

"We couldn't find you until now. A dianshen's spiritual energy is not strong enough until we are truly complete. The tracking spell started to react as soon as you winged, as soon as you had magic in your body we could locate. I must apologize, though. I wasn't fast enough and had to wait until nighttime to search in town. You were hurt and sick."

Wei Ying opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

"Why do you apologize, sir? Just the fact you arrived is... I don't deserve this kindness."

"You do. And I owe it to my friends as well."

Jiang Fengmian ruffled Wei Ying's hair. Then he examined his broken wing more closely, with a serious expression.

"May I ask how it happened?" he inquired.

Wei Ying stiffened.

"Um, I don't remember well," he lied, "these days were a blur. It was totally my fault, though! I think I fell down on my wing and it twisted with the weight."

He just couldn't tell him the truth. What if this massive fairy bird man went to the House and tried to kick the boys' asses? Or even worse? He just couldn't allow it, no matter how cruel their treatment had been or if they deserved it.

Jiang Fengmian didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it. He just seemed lost in thought for a minute before he shook his head.

"You should be more careful, as newly formed wings are delicate." After covering Wei Ying's body with the bedsheets again, he got up. "Don't worry about anything, A-Xian. Your only concern should be staying put and resting so you can heal faster. Just say so if there's anything you want."

"Um, quick question. Is that lotus root and pork rib soup too expensive? Because that was really good."

"A-Li will be glad to hear!" Jiang Fengmian smiled. "There should still be more so I'll tell her to bring it to you for dinner."

"Okay... Ah! Can Jiang Cheng skip his stupid classes to come and hang out longer?"

"Ah, A-Xian, my wife won't allow it." That mysterious lady of the house was starting to scare him a bit. Every guy seemed determined not to upset her and that couldn't be a good sign. "I'll tell him to come by daily, but not at the expense of his lessons. Is that okay by you?"

"Probably not by him, but alright," Wei Ying laughed. Jiang Fengmian stared at him, stunned. It was probably the first time he had smiled at him. He returned it with a soft chuckle.

"Just be patient, boy. You'll get out of that bed soon."

Before he left the room, Wei Ying called him back: "Uncle Jiang?"

"...Yes?" There was a light in his eyes when he heard the way the boy had called him.

"I... Thank you very much for... dunno, everything. And sorry." His cheeks blushed.

"Don't mention it." The man smiled and closed the door.

Wei Ying stared at the silver bell and then collapsed his face against the pillow, letting out a groan of pain and annoyance. He felt burdened with wings he never asked for, a past he couldn't remember, and parents who hadn't abandoned him. Things were much simpler before he woke up.

Orphans usually have this dream. A dream that someday, a person who was a relative or connected to their parents would swoop in, assure them they had been loved, and take them to a big house with lovely people to live happy forever. So Wei Ying was a monster fairy spirit thing, sure, but that fantasy came true or so it seemed for the time being.

Then why didn't he feel happier? Why was he hollow inside?

And he had more questions than before! What kind of miracle had happened so he had survived a hurricane, and one that killed two adults, with only a head injury? Did he understand Mr. Jiang correctly and these birds had flying carriages? Tracking spells? Were his wings something that showed up in a fairy radar? Where did they get lotus roots and pork for that soup? How did that rectangular, traditional-looking lamp in the corner of the room even work?!

Was the Jiang family going to kick him out after his wings healed?

Putting the bell under his pillow, he just closed his eyes and took a nap until dinner time. His body and his heart were fragile and weaker than his mind. Unable to keep up with his confusing thoughts, he dreamed about old times when he could run and laugh with friends.

*****

Extra

A young man was sitting in front of a mirror and humming a song. Gray stormy eyes looked at his own hair while a comb danced through inky black that continued down to the middle of his back. He grabbed two tresses from each side of his head and joined them together, to then tie the hair between them all up in a half ponytail with a striking red ribbon. He looked at the result but, not satisfied, he undid it and started again. It took him three tries for the hairdo to look symmetrical.

He turned his head to each profile to make sure. Finally pleased, he stared at himself and practiced a wink and a seductive smile. Yet he couldn't stand it for long and ended up laughing at his own silliness.

"Good, now that's a handsome wuxia hero in a shampoo commercial," he teased himself for his vanity. He was wearing his favorite black and red flowing robes, the ones he affectionately called his 'cool leather jacket for bird fairies' —to most people's confusion.

Wei Wuxian went on a gait through the hallway. By then he had lived half of his life in that cozy big mansion in the mountains. Soul and wing had healed long ago even if there was still a tiny crack in both he did his best to ignore. He could still fly better and smile brighter than most people despite the crooked wing tip and sad memory that remained. All he could do was to embrace the past and forgive.

He reached the living room area where his two siblings sat in peace.

"Wei Wuxian, are you finally ready?" Jiang Cheng got up with a sneer. "Why do you either take like an hour to groom or just go outside the same way you got up in the morning, never in between?"

"The duality of man," he chirped. Then he turned around to the young lady. "Sis, do you want to come? We're having dinner with the gang in town. It'll be fun!"

"I'd love to, A-Xian, but I have a date tonight."

"Bring your peacock fiancé, then! The more, the merrier!"

"You always say that, but you end up almost punching Jin Zixuan every time," Jiang Cheng covered his forehead with his palm.

"Hey, there was one time when you almost did, too! Wen Ning is my witness that he had to stop us both from ruffling serious golden feathers."

"It was one time and he wasn't in love with her yet." He grabbed Wei Wuxian's shoulder. "Honestly, let them spend time alone. The less boyfriends my siblings bring, the less it ruins these relaxing nights."

"Bad news then: Lan Zhan is coming."

"The problem isn't him coming, it's you both acting annoying!"

Wei Wuxian wasn't planning to stop saying shameless things or displaying his affection just because his brother was embarrassed or possibly jealous. Besides, Lan Wangji was part of his social circle (or The Flock, as he liked to call his boys) regardless of their current relationship.

He pushed Jiang Cheng towards the front yard, hands on bright purple wings, ignoring protests.

"Let's not dawdle with your protests. Let's go, let's go!! Bye, sis!"

"Have fun, A-Cheng, A-Xian!" the girl smiled and waved goodbye.

"Hey sour bird, do we go downtown or do we go to the Nies' place first?"

"Screw Nie Huaisang, I say. He takes even longer to get ready than you."

"Fine, then let's leave..." A cheeky smile was on his face. "Last one who gets there is a winged monkey!"

Quickly, he spread his black wings and took off to the dusk sky. Behind him he heard Jiang Cheng's loud curse and the sounds of feathery flaps approaching fast. He chuckled and flew faster, not minding that the wind was tousling his hairdo.

Notes:

The dianshen (巔神, forgive me if it makes no sense in actual Chinese) are made up for this fic and don't really exist in Chinese mythology but take inspiration on several legends like mainly the Japanese tengu (which is why I tagged it as youkai even though it's not quite), with some of the Chinese shen, the fae, and even an air to Buddhist immortals. Yushan, obvious name and all, is an actual place in legends, though!

#mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #jiang fengmian #$fanfic #wing au

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mamabearcat · 5 years

Text

The Importance of Ramen Ch.8

I think I lied when I said this was only gonna be ten chapters long. I just love writing them so much, I don’t want to let them go. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and if you need to get back to earlier chapters, they’re all here on my Master List, and also here on fanfiction.net where I go by Dasiy73.

Mama had hardly sat down on her own chair in the waiting room when Kagome’s name was called by an orderly approaching them with a wheelchair.

“Your chariot awaits, Miss”, he smiled at Kagome. Inuyasha held her to him a bit tighter, his chin jutting out defiantly. He felt unsure of himself without the Tessaiga, and the smell of this place, illness and blood laced with pain and fear, made him want to run out the door and take Kagome with him. He took a deep breath, trying to keep a tight rein on his emotions. He figured they might not like swords in hospitals, but they’d like a rampaging red eyed demon even less.

“Kagome don’t need a chariot”, he said gruffly. “I can carry her wherever she needs to go.”

“I’m afraid it’s hospital policy sir.”

“Inuyasha dear, I know you’re worried, I am too, but everyone here just wants to help Kagome. It’s just the way things are done. I’m sure we can come with her, isn’t that right?”

The orderly nodded cheerfully. Rumbling his annoyance under his breath, Inuyasha carefully placed Kagome into the seat with wheels, thinking how ridiculous it was when she would probably be much more comfortable in his arms. He bit back an impulse to growl and pick her up again when she winced as her swollen thigh touched the cold hard metal of the arm rest.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” asked the cheerful orderly, and they were buzzed through a glass sliding door to the examination cubicles on the other side. The orderly led them to a curtained cubicle with an empty bed, and when he moved to assist Kagome out of the wheelchair, Inuyasha swooped forwards and picked her up himself with a defiant glint in his eye. An embarrassed Kagome swatted him on the shoulder with her good arm, and the smiling orderly disappeared with the wheel chair. An overly cheerful nurse appeared, asking Kagome questions and taking her temperature and measuring her heart rate. Then they were told to wait for the doctor.

Inuyasha snorted, pacing around the bed in an irritated fashion. “This place is weird. Why do they have all these different people when one person would be enough? If I’d taken you straight to Kaede’s there wouldn’t have been half this fuss.”

Mama turned a serious face towards Inuyasha. “I am very glad that you brought her back here. If left untreated, an infection like this can spread across the body and into the bloodstream; it is possible to die from something like this.”

Inuyasha stopped his pacing, his ears drooping under the cap. “Yeah, that’s what Sango said”, he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “She said she’d seen people die from it and wanted me to bring her straight back. Miroku insisted too.”

“Then they have my thanks. Should you go back through the well once we get home and let them know that you and Kagome arrived safely?”

“Nah, they probably won’t be there yet. Kirara needs to take breaks when she’s carrying more than one person, and I’m not sure if they’d go over Mount Mitsumine like I did.”

Inuyasha had rarely ever seen Mama surprised. Even the first time he had met her, when he’d burst into Kagome’s home, demanding she come straight back through the well, she hadn’t screamed about a demon in her house, but had immediately rubbed his fuzzy ears instead. He had to admit, that had thrown him a bit. But now, after he mentioned Mount Mitsumine, her jaw had dropped open, eyes wide in a silent expression of surprise.

“But… that’s over one hundred kilometres away! You were carrying her on your back! Didn’t you say you left this morning?”

Misunderstanding the reason for her surprise, Inuyasha apologised. “I’m sorry I didn’t get Kagome here faster. I just didn’t want to jostle her by going at my top speed. I didn’t want her leg hurt any worse than it already was.”

He was totally unprepared for the hug that Mama suddenly launched at him, her arms clasped tight across his back. “Thank you”, she whispered.

Even though Kagome still felt woozy and ill, she couldn’t help but giggle a little at the blush that escalated in Inuyasha’s cheeks.

“It’s no big deal”, Inuyasha blustered. Both of them were smiling at him, and he felt an unaccountable desire to run away. Fighting the impulse, he plonked himself down on one of the hard plastic seats near Kagome’s bed, jamming his hands into his sleeves and tapping his foot impatiently on the cold linoleum floor. “How long have we gotta wait for this healer anyway?”

Mama sighed, sadly well acquainted with how modern hospitals worked after her husband’s accident. “As long as it takes Inuyasha, as long as it takes.”

xXxXxXx

Inuyasha growled. The doctor had finally come, and he had been asked to wait outside the curtained cubicle. He could hear Kagome’s swallowed whimpers and smell the scent of infection as the doctor removed the bandage on her leg. He hated this place. He hated the way it smelt. He hated that everything was shiny. He hated that Kagome looked so small in the bed on wheels, face so pale her features almost disappeared into the starched white pillowcase, apart from the contrast of her dark eyes and blue-black curls. He hated that he felt so powerless. And he hated that Mama seemed to be wilting; her usual cheerful demeanour had been replaced with sadness, covered badly by a pasted-on smile.

He heard a high-pitched yelp come from behind the curtain. The vibrating rumble in his chest increased. That was it, he didn’t care that Kagome and Mama had asked him to behave; Kagome needed him and there was no way he was staying out here any longer. He thrust his way belligerently through the curtain, just in time to see the doctor patting Kagome on the shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m sorry if that hurt Miss Higurashi, but I needed to examine your injury carefully to decide if we needed to debride the infected tissue in the wound.” She removed her stained latex gloves, tossing them into a nearby bin. “You’re lucky. I think an intensive course of intravenous antibiotics should do the trick; you’ll probably be on your way home in three days.”

“Three days! I can’t stay here for three days!” Kagome bit her lip, her eyes welling up.

The doctor smiled at her. “Just think of it as a holiday from school. I’m sure your teachers won’t hold it against you when they’re informed of the seriousness of your injury. I’m happy to write a medical certificate excusing you from school for the next week.”

“At least you’ll be home in time for Obon Kagome”, said Mama softly.

Kagome turned her tear-filled eyes towards Inuyasha. What would he think? Here she was, slowing them down again. She hoped he wouldn’t be too angry. The gentle look in his amber eyes surprised her.

“Hey, Kagome, don’t worry. Three days is nothin’ right? I’ll let our friends know you’re okay, and we’ll all be there to help you when we leave to… um, study. Yeah.”

Kagome pouted, bottom lip trembling slightly. “I suppose I’ve got no choice, huh. Guess I’d better make the best of it.” She managed a small smile. “At least I’ll get breakfast in bed, right?”

“That’s my girl”, smiled Inuyasha toothily, then felt the heat rising in his cheeks as soon as the words left his mouth, watching a matching blush struggling to rise in Kagome’s pale cheeks. He failed to see the small smile on Mama’s face, or the wink sent his way by the Doctor.

“Well, I’ll go organise your admittance Miss Higurashi; someone will be along to take you to your room shortly; the pain medication I injected should be taking effect by now.” The doctor left them behind in the small curtained cubicle, bustling over to the patient admin desk in an efficient manner.

“Maybe you should go back to Kaede’s Inuyasha”, said Kagome despondently. “It’s going to be very boring for you here.

“Nuh uh”, grinned Inuyasha. “I’m stayin’ around to make sure you do what you’re told. You might be good at dishin’ medicine out, but don’t seem to be too good at takin’ it.” He looked towards Mama as an afterthought. “That’s okay ain’t it?”

Mama smiled at him. “Souta will be delighted. And I’m sure I can find jobs for you to help with when you’re not visiting Kagome. Grandpa was talking about dusting in the storage shed again.”

Inuyasha whined a little, then sighed. “Alright. But tell ‘im that he’s not allowed to try an’ purify me with those weak ass ofudas of his. It’s annoying.”

Mama grinned. “I promise that he’ll behave. He does actually like you, you know.”

Inuyasha snorted derisively. “Could a fooled me.” He glanced at Kagome, who was laying back against the pillow, her head drooping. “You ‘kay ‘Gome?”

Kagome yawned. “Sleepy”, she muttered blearily. “Prob’ly the medicine…” Her eyes fluttered closed.

The orderly arrived, ready to transfer Kagome to the ward. Mama and Inuyasha followed behind as the bed was wheeled down the maze of corridors to the room where Kagome would spend the next three days.

xXxXxXx

Inuyasha sneezed. The dust in the storage room was getting up his nose and into his eyes, but he only had two more boxes to carry back before he was released from duty. It was nearly visiting hours at the hospital, and he hoped that Kagome would be feeling better today. He grimaced. Yesterday had not been a fun visit. The doctor had warned them that Kagome would probably seem worse for a day while her body continued to fight the infection until the antibiotics gradually took effect, and he and Mama had sat silently next to her bed after Grandpa and Souta left, while she slipped in and out of a doze.

After they’d left the hospital and gone back to the shrine, he’d slipped down the well and gone to Kaede’s to leave a message for the others. Kaede was most interested to hear how they were treating Kagome, but Inuyasha struggled to describe it, finally concluding exasperatedly that Kaede would just have to get Kagome to explain when she returned.

He’d spent a grumpy evening back at the shrine, teasing Buyo the cat, and sitting morosely in the Goshinbuko after dinner. When everyone was asleep, he’d let himself into Kagome’s bedroom window, but her usually comforting scent didn’t make him feel any better, and he dozed fitfully, sitting up against her bedroom wall with the Tessaiga balanced on his shoulder.

Breakfast this morning had cheered him up a little. Bacon always made him feel cheerful. He’d wondered aloud if bacon flavoured ramen was a possibility and was cheered even more when Mama said that she could make that happen for him, if he wanted.

Souta had run off to school, and Inuyasha was stuck with Grandpa Higurashi while Mama tidied up indoors. Helping the old man with his ‘treasures’ was annoying, but at least he didn’t try to throw any ofudas at him this time. Irritating old bastard. He straightened up after carrying the last box into the storeroom, while Kagome’s grandfather fluttered around in the background, prattling on about how valuable his crap was, and how he was going to meet up with possible collectors at Obon in a few days. Keh! At least he was done now. He stomped back over to the house, to see when they could leave to go see Kagome.

After Inuyasha washed most of the dust off, they drove the short way to the hospital. Souta had decided that the novelty of visiting his sister in hospital had worn off, especially when she wasn’t doing anything exciting, so had opted to go straight to a friend’s house after school. Grandpa was hosting visitors to the shrine that afternoon and said he might visit Kagome tomorrow. So it was just the two of them making their way through the maze of corridors, a baseball cap perched on top of Inuyasha’s fuzzy ears.

When they first arrived, Kagome didn’t seem to have changed much. She was still asleep, although Inuyasha was happy that the smell of infection coming from the bandaged leg hidden under the white sheets was much harder to detect. She had been changed into a pale blue hospital gown and smelt like soap, so she must have washed. Her arm was still attached to the beepy machine that Kagome’s mother had called a ‘drip’; she had explained yesterday that this type of medicine worked better if it went straight into Kagome’s blood, rather than her stomach. Whatever. As long as it made Kagome better, he didn’t care how they did it. Ignoring Mama’s pointed look, he took off the annoying baseball cap and scratched. Stupid thing always made his ears feel sweaty.

When Mama had left to go to the bathroom, he took a chance to hold Kagome’s hand for a moment. Trying to sleep last night in Kagome’s bedroom, being constantly exposed to her lingering fragrance but not being able to touch her or see her had made him feel lonely, even more lonely than when he was five hundred years away.

He gently ran the pads of his fingers over the roughened callouses on the inside of her hand, built up over time from using her bow. Her hands were so much paler than his, her tapered fingers more delicate. His fingers traced the lines on her palm, softly pressing against the tender flesh on the heel of her hand; he drew circles on the blue lines patterning her wrist, feeling the pulse of her heart against his fingertips. He wove their fingers together, smiling a little at how their hands fit, at how comfortable and right it felt.

“So, Inuyasha, how long have you been in love with my daughter?”

Inuyasha froze, his eyes still directed to his and Kagome’s clasped hands. He had been so engrossed that he did not hear or see Mama return to her seat on the other side of Kagome. Fuck! He didn’t know what to do. What was he meant to say? ‘Maybe, probably, yes, I think so, please don’t hate me’ didn’t seem right, and probably wouldn’t be taken very well. What if he was forbidden to see Kagome again? He knew he could easily overpower anyone and take her back to his time, but would Kagome choose him over her family? He didn’t want to make her choose.

“Inuyasha?”

Taking a deep breath, still holding Kagome’s hand to boost his courage, he looked up. Mama was smiling at him, her eyes warm. A small whine of relief escaped him before he could hold it back.

“It’s very plain to me how much you care for my daughter, and that she cares very much for you in return”, said Mama gently. “I truly believe that my daughter’s destiny is intertwined with yours. Do you two have any plans for a future together, after your quest is completed?”

Inuyasha made a small sound, somewhere between a whine and a growl. Dammit, why was he the one getting asked to answer these questions that he’d barely even dared to think about, especially with Kikyo still out there somewhere, while his wench slumbered away oblivious between them.

“We haven’t… that is… I want to…”, he coughed, and then sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

“Love is usually a lot less complicated than people think”, Mama smiled, a little sadly. “I’m sorry if my question made you feel uncomfortable Inuyasha. I’m not exactly feeling like myself at the moment. I haven’t been back to this hospital since my husband died, and being here, and worrying about Kagome has rattled me a little.”

She turned her head and looked out the window, directing her gaze towards the heat haze reflecting off the tall buildings in the distance, her hands twisting in her lap. Even though she was older, and her hair was shorter, her distressed expression and clenched hands reminded Inuyasha so much of Kagome when she was sad that he had to say something. Knowing him it would probably be the wrong thing, but he would try.

“I’m not very good at talking about feelings and crap like that”, began Inuyasha hesitantly, “but Kagome said once that I was a good listener when I wanted to be. I’ve got the ears for it, you see.” He waggled them a little bit for Mama’s benefit, guessing from the way that she’d grabbed them when they first met that she liked them almost as much as Kagome did.

Mama chuckled, wiping away the single tear that had escaped and slid down her cheek. “That you do, Inuyasha. Tell me, has Kagome ever told you much about her father?”

“Not very much. I think she was worried she’d make me feel bad, because I never met my father; he died before I was born.”

Mama smiled sadly at him. “I see.” She looked down at the golden ring on her left hand. “I first met Kagome’s father through some other friends, at Obon. We all danced together; it was so much fun. He bought me shaved ice, and he looked so handsome in his indigo yukata. By the end of the evening, I was a little in love with him already. It was a shame I was already going out with someone else at the time.”

“Going out?”, questioned Inuyasha.

“Hmm, would the phrase ‘courting’ make more sense to you?” When Inuyasha nodded, she continued.

“Yes, I was being courted by someone else, a much older man. At first, I thought I was very much in love with him; I was so grateful that he’d noticed me in the first place, that I didn’t pay much attention to the way he treated me. He told me I was pretty, but he never wanted to know what I thought, or how I felt; he expected me to change and fit in with what he wanted and needed.” She sighed, twisting the ring on her finger.

“Then the older man moved away for work; we were still courting, but I didn’t see him as often, and I spent more time with my other friends, including Kagome’s father, Toshinori.”

She smiled at Inuyasha. “Toshi was studying to be a kannushi, ready to take over the Higurashi Shrine from his father. He embraced life, and always looked for the best in people. He valued my opinions and feelings, did his best to make me laugh, and even though we argued sometimes, usually over very stupid things, when I was with him, I felt more alive and… more myself, than I did with anyone else. It was then that I realised that I could never spend my life with someone who didn’t want me as I truly was.”

Mama chuckled. “I met with the other man and told him that I had decided I didn’t want to see him anymore. My mother was furious; it was a very good match, according to her, he was quite wealthy. But I had made up my mind. Two months later, I was married to Kagome’s father.”

She grinned at Inuyasha. “It turned out, we’d both been hiding our feelings of love. I hid them because I felt a weird sense of loyalty to the first man who had asked me out – it didn’t seem fair to abandon him when he wasn’t there to defend himself, even though I knew I loved Kagome’s father. Toshinori had kept quiet about his feelings for me because he didn’t want to put me in the awkward position of having to choose between us. He respected my feelings and had decided he would never tell me how much he loved me.”

Mama looked down at the golden ring again. “I was so angry with him when I found out. We had a huge argument under the Goshinboku, and then he asked me to marry him. Once we both knew how the other felt, there seemed to be very little point in waiting.”

She sighed again, twisting the ring on her finger. “We had ten wonderful years together as husband and wife before he was killed. Kagome was nearly eight years old when he died; I was pregnant with Souta, so like you, he never got to meet his father. I still miss him, every day.”

Inuyasha watched the tears gathering on her dark eyelashes, dripping down onto the fingers that twisted the golden ring. “Was… was it worth it?”, he asked softly.

Mama looked up into the anxious golden eyes of the half-demon sitting across from her, still holding tightly to her daughter’s hand. Her heart clenched at the expressions of fear and hope warring in his expression, and she was reminded that even though Kagome had told him he had lived much longer than any human, he was comparatively still a young man around Kagome’s age, who had not had the love and support of a family like her daughter had. She smiled gently.

“Was falling in love worth it? Yes, Inuyasha. If I could go back in time, knowing that I would only have ten years with Kagome’s father and of the heartbreak there was to come, I would still choose to be with him. I would still love him. I always will.” Her eyes shifted from Inuyasha’s to the pale face of her daughter, still sleeping. “Love is always worth it, in the end.”

Suddenly Kagome snorted loudly in her sleep, causing Mama Higurashi to giggle through her tears, and Inuyasha to let out a bark of laughter. The sudden noise woke Kagome up.

“Huh, what’d I miss?”, she asked blinking her eyes.

Still giggling slightly, Mama smiled at her. “Nothing dear. Inuyasha and I were just chatting, getting to know each other better.”

“Okay.” Kagome went to rub her eyes with both hands, then realised that one was clasped within Inuyasha’s. She blushed, and although she looked away from him towards her mother, she squeezed his hand a little and rubbed her thumb lightly across his. “Have you guys been here long?”

“Actually, it’s time for me to go”, said Mama, kissing her daughter on her cheek. “Your dinner should be here any moment, and I need to go pick up Souta from his friend’s house. Inuyasha, you can make your own way back to the shrine, can’t you?” She pointed to the baseball cap sitting on the bed in front of him. “Just don’t forget to wear that.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Fine”, he sighed, “I’ll wear it.”

Mama tweaked one of his ears playfully as she walked past. “Don’t be late for dinner, Inuyasha. I’m cooking steak.” She blew a kiss to Kagome as she walked out the door.

“Ugh, I wish she hadn’t mentioned dinner”, sighed Kagome, rubbing her stomach fretfully. “The food here is nowhere as good as Mama’s cooking.”

“Do you think they’ll let you come home tomorrow?” asked Inuyasha.

“Why, do you miss me that much?”, teased Kagome, playfully pulling on one the silver locks of his hair with her other hand. “If you’re bored, you can go back and annoy the others, I’m sure they’d be back to Kaede’s by now.”

“It’s not the same without you there”, said Inuyasha softly. He coughed, clearing his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair. “Kagome, can you explain to me what obon is? Your grandfather mentioned it this morning, and your mother did today too.”

Kagome looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Um, sure. It was originally a Buddhist festival, but everyone celebrates it now. It’s all about going back home to your family; you visit and clean your ancestors’ graves. You wear a summer yukata, and there’s always dancing at night, and carnival rides and games and lots of food. It’s actually lots of fun.”

Inuyasha looked down at their clasped hands. “Kagome, if you’re feeling better…” He coughed and then started again. “Would you… if you’re feeling well enough that is, would you like to go to the festival with me?” Inuyasha said the last part of the sentence so quickly that it took Kagome a few moments to work out what he had said.

“You’d like to take me to the festival?”, Kagome asked, wanting to make sure she’d heard correctly.

“Forget it, it was a stupid idea”. He went to pull his hand out of Kagome’s but was stopped by her firm grip.

“I would very much like to go to Obon with you Inuyasha. I will make sure I’m feeling well enough to go, because I really, really want to.”

“You’ll go with me?”

“Yes, I’ll go with you”, she smiled.

Inuyasha smiled back at her. His heart was still beating too fast. He couldn’t believe she’d said yes. Crap, she’d said yes! He didn’t know the first thing about what people did at this thing. He was gonna embarrass her. What should he do now? He couldn’t ask Sango or Miroku, because he was pretty sure they didn’t have this festival in the past. And there was dancing. He’d never danced at a festival before. What if he was bad at it? What if he made a fool of himself in front of Kagome? Dammit. Wait, Mama had mentioned the dancing, so she should know how to do it right?

Kagome was still smiling at him, when he leaned forward and placed a lightning fast kiss on her cheek. “Gotta go Kagome, see you tomorrow!” He snatched up the hat from the bed and launched himself out the door before Kagome could say a word.

xXxXxXx

Mama was wiping her hands on her apron after checking the rice when Inuyasha barrelled into the kitchen, knocking over a chair.

“Wow Inuyasha”, Mama chuckled, “I know you liked the steak last time we had it, but this is… what’s wrong?” She took in the stricken look on his face, and his slumped posture as he picked up the chair and plonked himself down in it.

“I asked Kagome to the Obon Festival”, Inuyasha whispered, staring wide-eyed at her.

“Have you ever asked a girl to a festival before Inuyasha?” He shook his head vehemently. “Is this something you would like my help with?” He nodded frantically. “Okay, don’t worry, this isn’t a problem dear. I’m sure it will all turn out just fine.” He nearly bowled her over with a sudden hug, then let her go just as suddenly. She took in his suddenly puzzled expression. “Inuyasha?”

“I don’t know what to call you”, he said quietly, a blush suddenly rising to his cheeks.

She giggled, then seeing his expression, hid her smile behind her hand. “Well, what do you call me in your head when you think of me?”

Inuyasha looked down at the table. “When I first met you, it was just, Kagome’s mother. Then after a while, it was Mama Higurashi. But these last few days, in my head I’ve been calling you”, he looked up into her face anxiously, “just… Mama”.

Mama’s eyes filled with sudden tears. “Inuyasha, I don’t have a problem with you calling me Mama at all.”

#inuyasha fanfiction #The Importance of Ramen #inuyasha x kagome

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truthbeetoldmedia · 6 years

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The Bold Type 2x08 "Plan B" Review

Hello friends, and welcome to another week of me reviewing The Bold Type. Let’s dive right into it by starting with Jane.

Plan? I Don’t Even Have a “Pla”

As you can guess by the title, Jane and Ben suffer a “mishap” while having sex. Jane postmates Plan B (yes, you can do that) and all's well that ends well, right? For Jane, however, a visit to her doctor about some side effects of the pill spark a much deeper conversation.

We learned in Season 1 that Jane’s mother died of breast cancer when she was very young. We also learned that Jane is positive for the BRCA1 gene. Long story short, this means that she has a much higher risk for developing breast or ovarian cancer than someone who doesn’t possess the gene mutation. A positive result doesn’t mean that cancer is inevitable for Jane, but it does mean that she has to take pretty drastic preventative measures that most people don’t have to worry about.

Because of this, Jane’s doctor tells her she needs to think about her fertility options right away. One part of Jane’s preventative options, and a common one, is a total removal of her ovaries. Jane is faced with a very serious and time sensitive issue. She could commit to not having children, freezing her eggs, or having them right away, either with Ben or a sperm donor.

Jane struggles a great deal throughout the episode with this dilemma, something that 25-year-olds don’t usually have to worry about. Luckily the nature of her job at Scarlet is asking people questions about things she wants to know, so she pitches an article about how being a mom affects 20-somethings in the modern age. Instead of helping Jane make a decision this actually complicated the issue, forcing Jane to consider things she wouldn’t have before.

Motherhood for Jane is complicated. To put it simply, it's just too early for Jane to know what she could possibly want. There’s also the worry that if she decides to have kids now, she’ll lose out on parts of her life. That’s not to say that moms don’t have full lives, but having a child is a monumental life change that requires time and energy. Her life wouldn't just be about journalism and friendships. At a time when she just got her job back at Scarlet and is starting to fully grow into her career, having children wouldn’t necessarily be ideal.

Jane’s situation is also complicated because of her own mother. Because her mother died young, Jane doesn’t have any real memories of her that don’t take place in a hospital. She never really got to see her mom being a mom, so motherhood is especially foreign to her. She also doesn’t have her mother around to be a source of advice or help, something that almost all of the moms she interviewed mentioned as being their saving grace.

Jane, Sutton and Kat have a conversation about motherhood while at a playground, after Jane had interviewed some of the moms. This conversation is one of my favorite parts of the episode. It definitely sounds like a conversation I’ve had with my own friends, and it was refreshing to see a show portray a typical millennial conversation so accurately. Kat doesn’t feel the need to have kids; there are enough people in the world as it is, resources are drained, and everything generally sucks. I have to agree with her here, and when she says she doesn’t feel the allure of “being a human kleenex,” it was like she read my mind. Kids are great and all, but I’d love to be able to give them back when they get antsy.

Sutton, on the other hand, is a little more open to having kids than Kat. Like Jane, if kids are in the picture, she always assumed it wouldn’t be for a while. The Bold Type has already established Sutton as career driven first and foremost, so this definitely fits. She’s also not shy in naming her mother as a reason she might want kids. As briefly discussed in last week’s episode, Sutton basically served as a parent to her alcoholic, hard partying mom. It’s very common for people from situations like this to want kids just so they can do better than their parents did.

Later on in the episode Jane tells Ben what’s been going on, both about her BRCA status and the complex decision she’s facing about having or not having children. This is the first sign of Ben being a little less than perfect: he’s way too much of a doctor about Jane’s BRCA gene and not enough of a boyfriend. He immediately starts asking medical questions involving the type of cancer Jane’s mom had, which is definitely not the best (or most comforting) response. They end the episode on a strained note, the future definitely not looking bright for these two.

#GIRLBOSS

Ah, Sutton. Everyone seems to be having a time of it this episode, and she is no exception. Oliver is in Paris for fashion week, so Sutton serves as his replacement in a Scarlet budget meeting. They’re cutting every department budget to allocate some funds, and Sutton took Oliver’s advice to “smile and nod” as permission to authorize a 10% cut to the fashion department. I really doubt that Sutton would be given power over the fashion department budget, but hey, it’s a plot device so I’ll let it go.

In a story that they’ve given Sutton about a million times, she faces a dilemma at her job that could possibly be career threatening, tries to fix it the traditional way, and ends the episode excelling at resolving the problem in a method that’s usually a little out of left field. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to see Sutton kicking ass left and right, but at this point in the season I would expect something a little more substantial for her. Sure, her relationship with Richard was a plot point for a while, but as for now that’s been pushed to the back burner.

The most we’ve learned about Sutton was actually in last week’s episode, “Betsy,” when we learn more about her childhood in rural Pennsylvania and where her need for control comes from. We also know that Sutton grew up poor. She had to be extremely resourceful, sewing all her own clothes and retreating to the pages of fashion magazines when things got tough.

Despite how small of a view we’ve gotten into what makes Sutton tick, her backstory is actually one of my favorite parts of the show. Aside from her affinity for guns (you guys know how I feel about that), I’m super impressed with just how perfectly her life before and during Scarlet fits together. It makes sense: her love of fashion and her ability to be creative and resourceful with almost nothing make her a perfect fit for her job, bringing skills to the table that people who simply went to fashion school wouldn’t have. I’m so glad that this episode provides her with some much needed traction: she’s going to Paris for fashion week! This is obviously a huge step in her career, and something that indicates real change for her. I can’t wait to see what she excels at next.

Make America Black and Queer Again

Kat, meanwhile, is facing her own dilemma. She’s approached by Cleo, the newest board member at Scarlet’s parent company, Safford. Ah, Cleo. Love to hate you. See, with Cleo, I enjoy her time on the show because it’s usually accompanied by Jacqueline putting her in her place. It’s pretty satisfying to watch, and this episode doesn’t disappoint in that regard.

Cleo has been in talks with a skin care company called Whole Spa, and they want Kat to be the face of their new campaign. At first Kat is flattered, and at her meeting with their brand rep it all sounds great: the company aims to be all inclusive, the packaging is eco-friendly, and they want to work with Kat because of her unique story. She is, after all, a queer black woman who happens to be the first person of color department head at Scarlet. Who better to represent your company, right?

Turns out, Whole Spa chose Kat very, very carefully. In a casual run in with Pinstripe in the lobby at Safford (he’s freelancing for a garden magazine now: hemp is the new corn!), he notices the Whole Spa products that Kat is carrying and asks about them, so she tells him about the sponsorship. Unfortunately for Kat, Pinstripe has a reporter friend that is in the middle of a story about Whole Spa’s CEO donating to some prolific hate groups, specifically anti-black and anti-LGBTQ.

Now Kat realizes why Whole Spa wanted her in the first place: to be their “one black friend” when this news hits the public. As Sutton puts it, they want her to be their “black, bi bandaid.” She’s stuck now, since she already signed the contract and would almost definitely be sued if she didn’t follow through with the terms of it. Saying positive things about a company that disagrees with your very existence is not something that Kat’s comfortable with, so in typical Kat fashion she finds a way to speak her mind.

She does everything she’s contractually obligated to: she tries the products, posts about them on Instagram, and lists three things she likes about them. She also just so happens to sneak in a bit at the end of one particular Instagram story that the Whole Spa CEO is corrupt and using her to cover up their bigotry, but hey, no problem right?

Wrong. Actually, the only ones mad about it are Cleo and Whole Spa themselves. Cleo drags Kat to a private meeting with Jacqueline, playing Kat’s instastory for her and waiting for Jacqueline to enact some kind of fury on Kat.

Sorry, Cleo!

Jacqueline staunchly defends Kat and ridicules Cleo for rushing into this partnership without doing her full research. Jacqueline isn’t upset about the possibility of bad press or a reaction from Whole Spa. Instead she’s angry that Cleo would compromise the integrity of both Kat and Scarlet. Cleo isn’t as phased by Whole Spa’s bigotry, saying that there are members of Safford that have been known to sport MAGA hats on the weekends.

Jacqueline then calmly informs Cleo that maybe next time, she should choose one of them to be a brand rep for Whole Spa.

YAS, JACQUELINE!

For me, Jacqueline is the true highlight of this episode. We don’t get enough of her in most episodes, so her constant support of both Jane and Kat this week was great to watch.

From the beginning of the show, Jacqueline served to be the polar opposite of Miranda Priestly a la The Devil Wears Prada. She’s kind and supportive of her staff, destroying the domineering and intimidating female boss trope.

While Jane is struggling with her article, Jacqueline is understanding. She recognizes that this might not be one of those times that Jane needs to be pushed, so instead she gives her support. After the incident with Whole Spa, she also encourages Kat to seek out progressive companies that she would feel good about supporting. She easily could have banned all future sponsorships or endorsements, but didn’t let this particular debacle ruin anything. Also, getting her eyebrows threaded in her office? Goals.

This was a fantastic, solid episode. I’m truly excited to see how this season wraps up Jane, Sutton and Kat’s journeys. The Season 1 finale was so great that I cried, so I’m looking forward for the last few episodes of this season to really pack a punch. With Kat struggling with her relationship with Adena, Jane dealing with her medical dilemma, and Sutton visiting her hometown next episode, I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.

The Bold Type airs Wednesdays at 8/7c on Freeform.

Alyssa’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

#The Bold Type #Plan B #Parenthood

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halosleep · 3 years

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4 Wearable Blanket Materials to Keep Your Baby Comfortable and Safe

Preparing for a baby can be a whirlwind of excitement and joy mixed with a little trepidation. One of the most important things ways to prepare involves arranging a safe environment for your baby to sleep. Once your baby arrives, they will need to be laid down to sleep on their back in a separate space, such as a bedside bassinet, with a fitted sheet and no blankets. Instead of blankets, it’s in your baby’s best interest for you to find a wearable blanket or a sleep sack. You can find this sleep essential designed with different materials.

100% Cotton Cotton is a classic choice for your baby’s wearable blanket, sleep sack, or swaddle. Its absorbent material is convenient when you have a baby who is somehow always wet on some part of their body. The TOG value—the thermal insulation measurement—is usually low with cotton sleepwear. Depending on sleepwear style, the TOG for a cotton sleep sack can be 0.5 for a wearable blanket and 1.5 for a swaddle. However, you can layer clothes underneath this material if your baby isn’t warm enough. Cozy Micro-Fleece Micro-fleece is a thin and cozy material. It’s easy to wash and dries very quickly. The moisture-wicking fabric is well-insulated, and it can keep your baby comfortable. However, consider carefully whether or not your baby would wear any clothing under a micro-fleece wearable blanket or sleep sack swaddle, depending on the temperature. These options can have a TOG of 1.0 or 3.0, respectively. A bonus for both micro-fleece and cotton is that many companies offer them in a variety of cute patterns. Soft Muslin Muslin is a fabric you may associate with swaddling blankets rather than wearable sleep sacks. HALO® Sleep designed the perfect example of a comfortable muslin wearable blanket with their SleepSack® Platinum Quilted Muslin product. The gentle, finely woven muslin material is lined with quilted fabric for the sleepwear with a TOG value of 1.0. This wearable blanket and the HALO® Sleep bassinet that vibrates are excellent products that help your baby get to sleep safely and comfortably. Plush Velboa Even if you’ve never heard of velboa, you might be more familiar with this material than you think. It can be considered a faux fur fabric, but infant sleepwear made with velboa may feel like an even cozier microfleece. Velboa is a durable, machine-washable fabric. Despite its durability, the material is super soft; even cuddly. The TOG value for velboa sleepwear sits between 1.0 for a wearable blanket and 3.0 for a sleep sack swaddle. If you don’t know what material will work best, remember that your first choice does not have to be the only option for your baby. You can allow them to try out different materials as long as the TOG value is in-line with their sleep environment. You must also think about how the atmosphere can change throughout the year depending the weather outside and inside of the home. Once you have everything prepared, you can find out which material allows your baby to sleep comfortably in their environment. About HALO® Sleep Innovation and safety come together in the safe sleep products from HALO® Sleep. For over twenty-five years, HALO® Sleep has been working hard to provide new and growing families with bedside bassinets and wearable blankets for a safer sleep environment. Since they first designed the HALO® SleepSack®, the wearable blanket has remained a preferred product of families and hospitals nationwide, and HALO® Sleep a trusted resource for modern parents. With a SleepSack® and the patented 360° swiveling bassinet known as the BassiNest®, you can safely tend to your single baby, or to twins using the twin bassinet. HALO® Sleep and their unmatched products for infants and toddler help you family avoid dangers associated with an unsafe sleep environment. Browse through HALO® Sleep’s collection of safe infant sleepwear at https://www.halosleep.com/

Original Source: https://bit.ly/2PKnyMI

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kristallioness · 6 years

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Breaking a fever

Summary: Katara has trouble sleeping because of a fever, luckily Aang's right there to take care of her.

Word count: 1,771

Author's note: I was indulging myself in some videos yesterday when I came up with this idea. (Possible prologue to "Recovery"?) It's also based on my memories/experience of when I was little and had a fever that made my parents wake me up in the middle of the night to check that I was okay. I've always loved toying with the idea that even though Katara's the healer of the household, it could also be their daughter Kya (since she's an actual waterbender with healing abilities) or Aang (because he'd get to take care of Katara when she's sick and that's like one of my favourite things when their roles are switched). Also, I just wanted to write Aang being able to listen to Katara's heart by laying his head on her chest cause it's much more common the other way around (at least there are more stock photos/fanfics). I think it's much more intimate when a husband does that to his wife. I wrote the draft down in the early morning of December 31st, but thought that I'd proofread and finish it properly on the 1st of January. To start 2018 the right way (with some Kataang)! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! (There was a beautiful fireworks display all around my home 7 hours ago when Estonia greeted the new year! I listened to our President's speech, such a lovely introduction to our country's 100th anniversary year.)

----------x----------

Aang sat bolt upright. He'd been sleeping peacefully, but woke up when something hit him right in the middle of his face. He gazed around the dark bedroom to spot any intruders, but he didn't have to look far for the source. A hand hit his side and he turned to look at Katara.

She'd fallen ill in the evening - a fever that didn't seem to stop fluctuating and an overall feeling of weakness being the main symptoms. Probably just a cold caught from one of her patients at the hospital, she figured. They expected that the fever was gonna rise at night and she might have trouble sleeping. But Aang didn't know it'd be this bad.

Her breathing was heavy and laboured, like she was suffocating in their warm stuffy room, her mouth wide open gasping for air. Her hands and legs were kicking all over the place on her side of the bed. Aang could see drops of sweat on her face and on the bare skin around her collarbone above the line of her white sarashi, which wasn't covered by her tunic. If he hadn't known she was sick, she would've seemed like she was having an awful nightmare.

Aang frowned. He didn't wish to wake her up since she needed to rest. But she seemed so poorly, tossing and turning under the sheets. He gently grabbed her left wrist to hold that hand steady. She continued to fluff the pillow under her head with her right hand, still moaning and grumbling in discomfort.

Aang pushed the edges of her tunic to her sides, then carefully tugged at the sarashi to pull it a bit more off her breasts. When her chest was more bare, he slowly lay down very close to her, laying his right ear above it.

LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB, LUB-DUB... Katara's heart was pounding, almost as if it wanted to escape her ribcage. Aang could hear the fast beats drumming into his ear, but the way the air passed through her lungs.. not so much. Only that her breathing didn't sound normal. Maybe he should go to the healing hut to fetch her stethoscope and have a listen? Perhaps even grab a thermometer while he's at it to measure her temperature?

His train of thought was cut off when her free hand first found the top of his head, then his cheek and began stroking it. Her fidgeting seemed to have ceased as well.

"Ah-aang?.. What are you doing?" the waterbender wondered drowsily. The first thing she saw was a familiar blue line running along his bald head, the side of his face pressed to her chest and slightly weighing her down.

"Oh, Katara! You're awake.." he murmured as he propped himself up on an elbow to look at her, combing her hair near her temples to wipe off a few beads of sweat.

"I was checking your heartbeat and breathing because you were breathing so heavily. And you were tossing and turning all around. Even moaning a little bit."

"I was?"

"You still are.. breathing fast, I mean."

The airbender laid a hand above her heart, making her look at her chest rising and falling in a quicker pace than usual.

"I am?.. I don't feel like I am."

"Want me to go wake up Kya?"

"No! Let's not worry her.." Katara protested, then stared at the clock on their nightstand.

"What time is it?"

Aang leaned towards the edge of the bed to have a look.

"Almost a quarter past three in the morning."

The waterbender laid a hand over her forehead, releasing a tired groan and closing her diamond blue eyes. Aang ran circles over the blanket to rub her tummy.

"Want me to examine you?" he asked after a moment of silence. She hummed and nodded. She'd taught him a thing or two about modern medicine, and he'd picked up a lot from playing healer with their daughter.

"What do you need me to bring?"

"A thermometer, my stethoscope, my pouch.. Fill my pouch with cold water.. and maybe bring a towel if I'm too tired to heal myself."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, giving her hand a squeeze before he stood up to go fetch the necessary items. Aang lighted the way in the corridor with a small flame that burned above the palm of his hand thanks to his firebending.

Katara watched how the dim light disappeared with him before she laid her own palm on her hot, clammy forehead. She was really burning up. She grabbed her wrist to count her pulse. One-two, three-four, five-six, seven-eight.. She released her hold quickly, having a slight fright at the rapid rate. She shut her eyes and tried to calm down.

Her eyes opened at the sound of the wooden floorboards creaking louder with every step about two minutes later. Aang was back, carrying everything she'd asked for. He took a seat on his side of the bed and turned on the nightlight.

"Ugh!.." Katara groaned, covering her face with her forearm to let her eyes adjust to the bright light. Aang dropped the supplies in front of his pillow.

"Lift your arm for me, sweetie."

He waited until she raised her right arm, placing the thermometer under there. She laid the hand on her stomach to hold it tight. After that, Aang leaned closer to look into her diamond blue eyes. He grazed her cheekbone with his thumb, softly pulling her lower eyelid down a bit, repeating the same procedure with her other eye.

Katara blinked as she saw him pick up the stethoscope and put it in his ears. She followed his movements intently, watching how he softly pressed the cold diaphragm a bit below her collarbone, then slid it to her left side a couple of seconds later. Aang moved the tip of the medical instrument down to the middle of her chest, stopping a bit to the left above her breast - the spot where the heart sounds were the loudest.

Katara averted her gaze from her chest to his worried grey eyes instead. He noticed her looking back at him. Aang stroked the back of her right hand, the one she'd laid on her tummy. He grabbed it from the wrist and softly pressed his fingers against it to compare her pulse to the beats echoing into his ears. They matched, but were similarly fast as well.

Aang let go of her wrist and lifted the lower edge of her sarashi so he could slide the chestpiece of her stethoscope under there. Having listened for another couple of seconds, he lifted the cloth from below her left breast this time and pressed the diaphragm against the soft skin. Aang's grey eyes widened a bit when Katara laid her hand above his and pushed it even stronger against her breast. He could hear why - her heartbeat was more audible from that spot when she did that.

Katara allowed her eyes to fall shut once Aang finished auscultating with the diaphragm and began turning the chestpiece around to use the bell, too. She felt how he moved the hollow side of her stethoscope over the same spots on her chest, stopping for several seconds to get a good listen. She opened her eyes when she sensed him lift the bell from her skin and heard the metal parts of the headset clinking together as he removed the medical instrument from his ears. She frowned when his gaze met hers. He understood what she wanted to ask.

"Don't worry, it's okay.. just a bit faster than normal," Aang answered without her having to say a word. Katara released a content hum when he cupped her cheek, his thumb softly rubbing over it. The airbender gently pulled the thermometer out from under her arm and stared at the mercury inside the glass. No wonder she was tossing and turning in her sleep.

"How high?.." she spoke barely above a whisper, her eyes falling shut from her weariness.

"38.4 degrees. You wanna lower it yourself or do you want me to do it?"

"Mmm.. you do it," she mumbled. Aang grabbed the towel he'd brought along and poured some of the cold water from her pouch on it to make it damp. After that, he wrapped it into a smaller square and pressed the wet side against her forehead. Katara stirred, a slight frown appearing on her features for a second, then let the cooling sensation do its work.

The sound of the thermometer rolling and the metal parts of her stethoscope landing against the wood of the nightstand rang in her ears. She opened an eye to peek at Aang, who was busy hanging her pouch on the corner of their bed, in case they needed more water. She pretended to sleep when he turned around to make her more comfortable. Katara felt his fingertips tug at her sarashi to cover up her breasts, then tuck the rest of her bare chest into the soft blue fabric of her tunic. He pulled the blanket up to her neck. She smiled and wriggled under the sheets a little.

Aang lifted the towel from her forehead. The once wet spot was practically dry within minutes. He waterbended some more water from her pouch to dampen it again, placing it back on Katara's temple. After that, the airbender could lie down, too. He wanted to be sure that she'd fall asleep first, hence he propped himself up on his elbow to keep an eye on her until she did.

"You're not going to work like this tomorrow, are you?"

"Mkmm.." Katara hummed, slowly shaking her head.

Aang stroked her cheek with the back of his left hand, allowing his index finger to trace a path down her nose, over her lips. His palm practically cupped her chin, his fingers grazing down her neck, over her mother's necklace and across her collarbone, stopping when her tunic got in the way.

"Sweetie?" she murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Can you turn off the light?"

"Oh, sure!" Aang said in a chipper tone, swiftly turning around for a moment to switch off the small lamp. When his gaze fixed on her once more, she was nuzzling the side of her face into her pillow, another hum of delight escaping her vocal cords. Aang positioned the wet part of the towel back on her forehead properly. He paused for a second before deciding to press his right ear on her chest one more time. Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub... At least her heart had stopped racing.

#Kataangtag #Kataang #Aang #Katara #ATLA and TLOK #my fanfiction #mine #shards of Kristal

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onenightandgone · 6 years

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Mind’s Eye - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight KaixReaderxSehun Mutant!AU

The phones in the office ringed intermittently while staff members rushed about with files and coffee.

Dr. Bill looked closely at the large monitor. His glasses pinched and held on to the end of his nose precariously as he studied the screen.

A full human-sized pattern was spread in front of him. It looked very much like someone had shaped electrical wire into the silhouette of a body. The details would be lost to the uneducated.

‘There! Zoom in there!’ He pointed at a spot at the base of the skull.

The technologist nodded and pressed a button on the keyboard. A detailed tangle of nerves and tiny organs spread out on the screen.

‘What is that?’ said Breanne Kratz. She peered at the screen over his shoulder. Her arms were crossed over her chest self-importantly.

‘A normal individual scan would present only the stem and cerebellum in this area, however this –‘ Dr. Bill drew a wide imaginary circle around a folded mass of tissue beneath the cerebellum. ‘This is an organ we created during our genetic mapping phase. This is the source of her projection.’

‘That screaming, angry thing in the inpatient wing?’

Dr. Bill nodded.

‘Although to be honest, he didn’t come out exactly the way we had written the genome,’ he confessed.

‘And how was the projection supposed to be written?’ Breanne asked.

‘It was supposed to have the ability to manipulate the air around it, but this one – this one is different. The way he just appeared in the scanning room like that, the sci-fi geeks will go nuts if this gets out.’

‘What do you mean he just appeared? Like he rushed through the door? Please – elaborate like the scientific genius that I hired you to be,’ Breanne said harshly. Her patience wore thin.

‘It literally just appeared. I’m afraid the only modern term for it is teleportation,’ Dr. Bill said.

‘So how are we containing it?’

‘Sedation. Enough for him to be conscious when we need him to, but nothing else.’

Still in the protection of your mind, Sehun held you until you woke up. He combed through your hair as you started to come to.

You were covered by a thick wool blanket, heated by the long body that wrapped itself around you.

You waited to be sure. No, the pain was gone. The clouds covering the cavernous ceiling floated gray and innocent.

‘How are you feeling?’ said Sehun. He turned your face to look at him.

‘Better,’ you said with a nod. You pulled the blanket more securely over your shoulders.

‘Good,’ he said.

Suddenly his arms clenched tightly around you like a vice, cupping your chin firmly and forcing your focus to stay back on him.

‘Now don’t you ever pull anything like that again!’

‘What?’

‘Kai told me everything,’ Sehun said. His eyebrows solidified into a straight line. ‘You had the chance to get out and to save yourself, but you didn’t! Why – I can’t even comprehend what you were thinking.’

Your cheeks turned red at being spoken to so harshly. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

‘You don’t see it,’ you said. A heavy weight choked your throat even when you swallowed hard to try to get rid of it. ‘I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.’

‘You’re the one that doesn’t see it,’ insisted Sehun in a quiet tone. ‘I couldn’t live at all if not for you. You’re the reason I exist.’

Sehun softened to see your expression, the pad of his thumb caressing half-moons on your cheek tenderly.

‘You’re the reason that I would choose to continue existing. No, you don’t see it,’ he said with a sad smile.

‘I see you,’ you tried.

Sehun shook his head. He lowered his forehead against yours, momentarily closing his eyes. After a brief pause, he spoke once more.

‘You don’t see my heart,’ he said slowly. He took your hand and placed it with open palm over his chest, holding it to his body. ‘You mean so much to me. You could easily have spent all your time with Kai from the beginning. You could have forgotten about me, but you didn’t. You talked to me, you taught me to laugh and to love. You’ve been there for every part of my life, and that’s why – that’s why I love you with everything that I am.’

The tears that threatened your calm finally spilled over, and the dam that held it all back finally broke. The wall that you had so diligently constructed around yourself came crumbling down.

Your voice came in a whisper, shaking as you started to cry. ‘E-even after what I did?’

Sehun smiled. His thumb wiped away what tears he could, but he was vastly outnumbered. He nodded slowly.

‘Even after,’ he said quietly.

His heartbeat steadily under your palm, and you were drowning in everything that Sehun was. The tenderness and open emotion that he showed overwhelmed you and stole the words from your throat.

You did the next best thing. Reaching behind his ears, you guided Sehun down to meet your lips.

He responded with eager affection and pushed forward in perseverance.

You felt the softness of his mouth, the heat he blew forward as he breathed, the rich smell of warm spice and honey that his skin produced, the way his lips pushed against yours with a tender sweetness that became the air you needed, like medicine for your soul. He was Sehun and he was yours.

You wanted to stay, you wanted to be in Sehun’s arms always, to lie in the valley of his chest, the cradle of his legs. You wanted to listen to his heartbeat for the rest of your life.

Sehun broke away from the kiss as if he had just shared a secret. A soft smile decorated his features flawlessly. His fingertips played lightly on your cheek.

‘You’re perfect,’ he said, airy and rich simultaneously.

Sehun closed his eyes and rested his forehead on yours. His touch wandered down your face, memorizing you.

But something wasn’t perfect. It ate and grated at the back of your mind and clutched at your heart.

The tears streamed from your eyes as you ripped yourself away from him.

‘Sehun,’ you whispered.

Sehun opened his eyes slowly and smiled as he looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

‘I love you,’ you started.

He nodded and came in for another kiss, a tear of his own making an appearance.

You reached up to wipe it away.

‘I love you, but –‘

‘No,’ Sehun interrupted. ‘No buts, please just let me have this.’

‘But I can’t stay. I think – I think they have Kai and I have to make sure he’s okay,’ you said. Your lip trembled as you spoke.

Sehun shook his head and collapsed into your shoulder.

‘You know that it’s the right thing to do,’ you said. You struggled with the words. ‘I can’t leave him there alone. God knows what they’ll do to him.’

‘Just – just one more minute,’ he negotiated. He wrapped around you again, breathing deeply.

You kissed the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair and stroking his back.

With a deep unsteady breath in, Sehun finally stood and helped you to your feet. He took you by the shoulders and looked down at you. The soft gentle smile was gone, replaced by a look of hidden anger. A ferocity that you had never before seen burned from his eyes.

‘Promise me that after you find him you’ll still love me,’ he said, his voice low and burdened with unspoken feeling.

His thumb brushed your chin.

‘I’ll always love you,’ you said.

Sehun leaned down quickly to kiss you once more, his movements urgent. You choked back a sob as he pulled away, closing your eyes to find the right words.

‘But I can’t leave Kai to be tortured. He’s part of me too, and I – I need him too,’ you said.

The blow had been dealt.

‘Go,’ Sehun said. He took a long step back from you, his hands falling to his sides uncomfortably. He wanted to touch you, to have his arms around you – the pain of longing was obvious in his face.

The tears fell even more copiously as you looked at Sehun one last time before closing your eyes and choosing to leave the safety of yourself.

When your eyes opened – your real eyes – you were back in the room at the lab.

The IV had been removed from your arm, and a fresh set of clothes sat folded at the foot of your bed.

You dragged yourself up to sitting, your muscles screaming from the rough treatment that had been given them. Despite the complaint of your body, you eagerly traded the crepe like hospital gown for the plain cotton pyjamas. It look you much longer to change than it normally would, but when you sank into the chair by the window with some comfort, the effort paid off. It was a small measure of comfort, but better than nothing.

Outside the window you saw a large garden surrounded by high brick walls. Low clouds rolled in over the distant horizon, but there were no other buildings in sight. You weren’t in the city anymore.

You were trying to figure out your location still when the door to your room opened and the attendant entered. She held a tray of food consisting of small dishes and a pot of tea. She smiled as she set it down on the rolling table that helped to furnish your sparse room.

‘You must be hungry,’ she said. Her smile was friendly, and you wanted to believe that she was approachable. But still, she was employed by the lab, and it was with great personal reserve that you first spoke.

‘Can I ask you something?’ The words left your mouth; you swallowed all thoughts of Sehun. You couldn’t afford to be distracted. There was too much at stake.

‘Of course you can,’ the attendant said. She poured the tea into a plastic mug. ‘I’ll do my best to answer whatever I can. I know that yesterday was rough, but you’re a survivor.’

‘Do – do they have him?’ Your voice shook with the concern of perhaps putting Kai in even more danger by acknowledging your relationship to him.

‘Him? Doesn’t he have a name?’ The attendant pried carefully.

‘So that’s a yes,’ you said. ‘Can I see him?’

She put down the teapot and stood straight.

‘I can’t give you an answer right now, I’m sorry. Unfortunately that’s not my decision. What I can do is ask my supervisors, and we’ll see what we can do about arranging a visit, ok?’ She did her best to end the topic on a positive note before stepping towards the door. ‘Eat up and I’ll be back soon, ok?’

The attendant left without another word. The lock clicked behind her, and her footsteps faded down the corridor.

You took a deep breath as a rolling nausea overtook your stomach. What had they done to him? You wanted Kai, you wanted him with every fibre. You needed to know that he was safe. You needed to be with him. You wouldn’t be okay until you were. Nothing was okay.

Somehow the world kept turning and spinning without you, knocking everything out of your hands and beyond your control.

You stood carefully and examined the breakfast tray. You surveyed it with skepticism – the two pieces of toast, oatmeal, and half an orange. You grabbed the cup of tea instead and settled back by the window.

You drank slowly and looked out over the garden. You watched the comings and goings, even though there wasn’t much to look at other than the hired landscapers. That Breanne woman made a brief appearance with a tiny brown dog on an equally tiny leash. You watched it bark at the workers; they laughed at its attempt to threaten them.

Your entertainment was ruined by a sudden knocking on your door. The lock clicked open; Dr. Bill stepped inside. He held the door ajar behind him.

‘Oh, you’re awake. How nice,’ he said. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. ‘We were very pleased with the progress you’ve shown in the tests we did yesterday, very promising. So we brought you a small reward. Angela?’

Dr. Bill pulled the door wide open and held it there.

Angela pushed in a large wheelchair, and you gasped to see what it carried.

You covered your mouth.

Kai sat strapped into it, an IV drip dragging behind him. His arms and legs were strapped to the frame tightly, the IV hooked into the vein at his elbow. His head lolled to the side against the headrest, his mouth open and eyes closed.

You stood quickly with your fists clenched.

‘What did you do to him?’ you said. You tried to hide the tremble in your voice.

‘Just a mild sedation to keep him calm,’ Dr. Bill said. ‘We’ll leave him here with you for the afternoon. Have a nice visit.’

Angela and he left without another word, the lock clicking shut again.

Your calm broke as you were left alone with your thoughts and with Kai. You choked on the sob in your throat, taking a step towards him hesitantly. What else had they done to him?

Your hands floated over the binding that locked him in place before settling on the bare skin of his forearm. He was still warm. The images of how he held you, his brilliant heat as the limb braced beside you as he hovered over you flashed vividly. You could still hear the soft breaths of his sleep, the gentle ruffle of his fingers in your hair as Kai held you over his heart.

You swallowed most of the overwhelming tears as you took in his current state, very much opposite to the fiery, unpredictable Kai that you had come to love.

Now he was nearly comatose, helpless. He had been dressed in a paper-thin gown exactly like the one you had been given when you first came to. The mock cotton barely covered his broad frame, and your stomach turned to think of strange hands undressing him.

You sniffled and stepped around to his face. His eyes closed gently in a feigned sense of peace. You reached to wipe the wide stream of saliva that had fallen down from his open lips.

‘Kai,’ you whispered. ‘Wake up.’

You outlined the wide cheekbones, the carved marble of his forehead. You brushed back the messy tangle of unwashed white hair. You leaned down slowly, your abdomen complaining at the strain, and laid a tender kiss on his cheek.

‘Please, please wake up,’ you pleaded. ‘I’m here now, it’s ok.’ You found yourself repeating the words that Sehun had comforted you with only hours ago.

Kai stirred slowly, he moved his face against the feather-soft touch of your hand, seeking you in the darkness. His eyes opened and struggled to focus. Kai mumbled, slurring over the syllables of your name.

‘I’m here,’ you said. A single tear escaped. ‘I’m here, Kai.’

Finally his eyes seemed to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room and he held his head straight. The puzzle still remained in his expression as he tried to reconcile you with his location.

‘D-did I save you?’ His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed up at you, still fighting off the haze of the drugs. Not knowing that they would never fade.

The same lump in your throat croaked out, a tear trickling down your face again. You were so tired of crying, and you needed to be brave for Kai; you fought it off as best as you could.

‘No, not yet,’ you said softly. You tried to smile. ‘But I know you will.’

Kai took a deep breath. You combed through his hair tenderly, taking his needle-free hand.

‘Wh-what happened?’ Kai looked down as he tried to reach for you and found himself unable to. ‘Where are we? NO! What is this? LET ME GO!’ He fought against the restraints with all of his might, twisting and struggling; but they were restraints for a reason and, after a few moments, Kai lost his battle handily.

‘No, no, please!’ you pleaded again. You quickly moved to cup his chin in your hands, and you brought his gaze up to yours. ‘Don’t, don’t fight, ok? They’ll only put you to sleep again. Please, you have to stay awake for me. I – I need you.’

More tears escaped, and this time Kai saw them.

‘They – they were hurting you,’ he said. ‘And I tried – I tried to stop them!’ Kai’s words all ran together, his feelings catching up as he found himself with nowhere to go. ‘I tried-’

Kai closed his eyes and leaned his head against your hands.

‘I know, I know,’ you said softly, your thumb running gentle circles over his skin. ‘It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.’

He raised his eyes again, looking at you in a blur, but meeting your wrist with his lips. His breath shook as he let it out, and the sedatives began to take their effect again.

‘Y/N,’ he whispered lowly. His head lolled like a ragdoll against your hand. The drugs forced his eyelids closed under their weight.

‘I’m here, it’s okay.’

‘Y/N.’ Kai tried to lift his head again, trying to fight off the slow drip of the sleep-inducing cocktail in his veins. ‘Kiss me while I can still – while I can still remember.’

You nodded, blinking back emotion and the sharp sting of tears. You leaned down slowly and pressed your lips to his. Kai responded weakly, losing the battle to hold his head straight, and he slumped to the side as you pulled away.

‘I love you…’ Kai breathed out the words as he was finally lost to the chemical darkness once more.

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