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avversiera-writes · 3 years

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try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - EPILOGUE

Chapter 10: Epilogue - The World As He Fixed It

Summary: A new member is added into the Senju family, and you finally find out what your husband is up to.

Word Count: ~5k

also available on AO3.

“We do not have to go,” Tobirama says quietly as he shuffles around behind you, as you put each clothing material you have under scrutiny.

You whirl towards him in confusion. “Why not? This is concerning your nephew. And your newborn grand-niece .”

At that, your eyes perk up in excitement for him. Tobirama has actually long lived enough to witness a new generation of his family, and his brother’s grandchild, and you reckon there will be more to come.

You step closer to him, and he watches you intently as you do. “You are now a grand-uncle.”

Tobirama’s hands come up to your elbow gently. “You know why I am thinking twice about visiting.”

Your eyes wander down to his collarbones and you find yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Tobirama, I will be okay. I am happy for you.”

Tobirama’s hands fall away, and you turn away from him to look at your clothes once again. You can feel his eyes poring over you, but you shrug it off.

“Besides, they are your family,” you say to him, and then, the two of you leave it at that.

The walk towards Tobirama’s nephew’s home is peaceful, but you walk with trepidation. You are not sure how you will react once you finally get to meet Tobirama’s grand-niece, though you have been managing quite well enough until that day you passed out in the street. Sometimes it is hard to control what enters your mind or what your body decides to react to. You are not the fortitudinous shinobi you once were anymore, even if you have kept close to its principles. Your thinking has changed, and despite the painful reminder, your body has never been the same as before either.

However, in every breath you take, a will so resilient keeps you going.

“You know,” you start, your mind making up the words to say as you speak. However, you keep going and it feels just right. “There are many civilian families that have shinobis as their family members, and are unbelonging to any clan. I think we must...do better in supporting them.”

Tobirama glances at you, letting you know that he is listening.

“What I mean is. I know that we cannot replace lives, but we must offer some relief to those who have lost their children, their parents. We must do better. I know that I no longer serve as a shinobi, and I may never get to know what our people go through, but we must start somewhere.”

Tobirama nods, and you can practically see his mind brainstorming for ideas, but then he stops and he gives you a small smile. “I think that it’s brilliant. Since it is your idea, I will help you instead. You can take the reins on this one. All the directives are yours. I only serve to make your vision happen.”

You look at him in surprise, but it is fitting in a way. Tobirama has always been the one with the plans and the oversight to everything, but this, giving you this to work on, is a bigger step closer to share his ambitions. Even if you have been helping Tobirama as Hokage, there are times where you cannot do so, but this is different. This new goal requires Tobirama to step back a little.

Tobirama is doing something for you that he once solely reserved for his brother, and maybe, maybe, despite all these years of serving the village, the two of you can finally do something for each other.

You cannot help your smile widen in excitement. “Thank you. I will blow your mind!”

Tobirama narrows his eyes at that. “Not exactly the words I want to hear. A thank you is enough.”

You roll your eyes, and nudge his arm with your elbow. “Have you no faith?”

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. “Well, for one. You are quite disorganized sometimes.”

“Okay, okay,” you let out a chuckle. “But I have learned a lot from you. There is order to my chaos, too, you know.”

“Tell that to my alphabetized files in my office,” Tobirama immediately retorts. “And my color-coded books and scrolls. My labelled drawers and boxes.”

“I get it, my gods, you and your drive to just be the best at everything!”

Tobirama had the nerve to look smug.

“Wow!” You exclaim sarcastically. “You are liking this, aren’t you? Bragging about yourself? Your ego knows no bounds.”

“Well, I am the best at everything. That is a fact, my darling,” Tobirama mockingly says, and you freeze at the endearment.

Tobirama rarely says these things, and it has caught you off guard. He keeps on walking ahead, widening the gap between the two of you.

“Do you see me right now?” You yell towards him. “I am shaking my fist at you!”

“Get in line, my love,” Tobirama says again and your mouth drops, aghast.

“Who are you?!” You cry out. You jog towards him lightly to catch up.

Tobirama actually laughs, the sound small and a little rough, but it sends you to roll your eyes.

“Gods, you have changed,” you comment under your breath.

Tobirama shrugs, and then he bumps his shoulder against yours. “In more ways than one, but we are always evolving. We never stay stagnant for long.”

You spot the house of Tobirama’s nephew, and for once, you do not feel like something is pressing on your chest to make it cave in. Maybe Tobirama had used this moment to lift your spirits up in the way he knows how.

You are grateful for it.

When the two of you had arranged your slippers just outside the door to the main living room, the two of you immediately heard Hashirama’s booming laughter. You share an amused look with your husband, and together, the both of you made your way over to them.

You see Hashirama holding his newborn grandchild, and you cannot help the smile spreading across your lips. The wonder in his face is infectious, and the room lights up in excitement, as Hashirama beckons his brother to come closer.

Tobirama hesitates, but when he gets close enough, Hashirama reaches over and pulls his hand, and proceeds to deposit Tsunade into his arms.

You watch as Tobirama’s eyes widen a fraction as he stares at his grand-niece in his arms. He touches her forehead gently with a finger, and he immediately looks at you. His face may look indiscernible to others, but you can tell that he is excited. He beckons you to come closer, and you do, and the two of you look at the new addition to the Senju family.

“She is beautiful,” you comment quietly.

You are aware that others look at you with some degree of alarm, but you pay no mind. Of course, they are allowed to feel that way, given that you had moments where you freak out, but you are completely calm now, and you are just happy for your husband and his family, even if there is a tone of bittersweetness catching at the back of your throat.

“Would you like to hold her?” Hashirama inquires, as you place the back of your hand on Tsunade’s cheek.

“Maybe later,” you reply, seeing how taken Tobirama is with his grand-niece.

After meeting Tsunade, the rest of the family gather at the dining table while the parents attend to their newborn. Tobirama excuses himself, having to run to his Hokage duties for the rest of the day, and after chatting with Hashirama and Mito, you also leave to get home, suddenly feeling exhausted from the many interactions with people. Usually, you are able keep up appearances in long social events, but now, every word you utter is exhausting. You wish that you can go back to how you were, and you hold on to that, trying your best to pull up the charisma you once wielded, and while you are victorious in putting up such a convincing facade, you cannot control what seeps in through your wall.

When you step inside your home, it is quiet. It is the kind of quiet, where you know that you are totally alone. There is no breath of a sigh, no footsteps, no doors sliding open and close. You stare at the winding hallways of your house as you pass by them, noting how undisturbed they look, how blue and cold.

Then you head upstairs, taking it step by step, until you are passing by your bedroom, and towards the room designated to your firstborn.

You stop by the door, and when you finally enter, the sight immediately brings tears to your eyes. The folded blankets, the stuff toys, the crib, the rocking chair, and the books in the room remain untouched, and they have been gathering dust for a while.

Your palm grazes across the surface of the crib, and rests on the tiny pillow situated on one side of the crib. The mobile that hangs above the crib, filled with dangling cranes and dragons spin aimlessly and without sound.

You let out a sob that you have been holding, but they are not from anger or bitterness. They are to mourn what could have been, what you have lost.

You let your tears run, and you let it go and course through you. You feel more of what you have been trying to run away from, because you know that sooner or later, you would have to face it.

The pain does not let up, but you feel something . It burns and soothes you at the same time, picks at scars but slowly heals it, with time.

Your eyes go around the room, where dust motes swirl where the light rays are beaming upon a surface. You spend a few more minutes in the room, but when you begin sneezing, you finally decide to leave it and opt to study up on the new project you proposed to Tobirama earlier.

You want to give your all on this one, and besides, you know you can use the work. You need to pour your effort and your restlessness into a new direction, because you never want others to feel as you do, as Kimiko does.

Maybe in a way, you no longer know what goes on in the lives of those who go into the field, but you were there once, and you understand the difficulties of just trying to make it out alive.

It is always life we cling to, and what makes us driven to preserve it. It is our silent prayer, even at the brink of death.

After jotting down your ideas and the beginnings of a plan for this new project of yours, you take a break to wander around the house aimlessly. You go into the connected rooms where you and Tobirama are currently building an extensive library and a personal museum for arts and Tobirama’s inventions, taking mental notes on what you ought to change later, when the two of you get the time to uncover more of the artifacts that your husband and his clan has collected over the years.

There are some weapons and supplies gathered in the last room, since the two of you shared the obsession of collecting them and learning how to use them.

Then, you make your way to your husband’s study. You stop by the threshold, not really stepping in just yet.

This room definitely speaks for Tobirama. It is neat and clean, and just as he had bragged, his books and his scrolls are all organized, and in alphabetical order. The files are labelled with his best handwriting, since he has a gorgeous penmanship. Better than yours, in fact.

You smile at that little detail about him. Even now, you are amused by all the qualities that he has. You should be used to him by now, but every day is a new day with him; re-learning him is not exhausting to you.

You opt not to go in, and instead, you go back for your things downstairs, and take it up to your bedroom to work on. As you lie on your bed and draft your official proposal for this project, your eyes flit to the ceiling and the papers around you. The day feels slow, and the heat of the afternoon sticks to you like a daze, and the next thing you know, your eyelids are feeling heavy, and your limbs give to your side, wrinkling a few papers.

Tobirama stares at the corpse in front of him, covered in tags that are marked by his own handwriting–they are his seals, and they are intricate and sprawling across the tags. They fan out, connecting to the next seal, and to the next one, until it is covering the whole corpse. Tobirama takes a deep breath, and he releases it slowly, focusing his chakra.

He closes his eyes, willing this to work, because it has to.

He takes the DNA of the corpse and smears it to a scroll, and he brings his hands together and begins to the weave signs.

However, when he puts a hand on the scroll, nothing happens with the corpse. He waits, because it is what he does a lot whenever he is doing his experiments, but nothing happens. His patience has run thin, and Tobirama lets out a shout of rage and brings a fist down on the table under him. It gives, along with the corpse and the papers and chemicals situated upon it.

Tobirama racks his mind. Something is still missing.

By now, he has figured out that he needs a soul and the dead body’s DNA. For this past year, he has been doing his best to reconstruct the corpse into a tangible body, preserving it to this very moment. He has taken limbs and other body parts to make it look human, and it has come down to this moment.

And still, there is nothing.

Tobirama needs to finish this. He needs to see this to the end, but he is stuck. He does not know what else he can do. Hell, he does not even know where to begin now.

He sticks his hand backwards, feeling out the wall, and when he comes in contact with it, he rests his back on the cold wall of his lab and he slides down.

He stares at the mess in front of him, feeling like a failure–a feeling that he detests so much but it hangs on him like a death sentence.

He has been losing sleep, missing out on his life and his family for this, and yet, it yields him no results.

Tobirama is tired, but it is not his time to rest.

He runs a hand down his face, feeling haggard, but an idea sparks to his mind that it almost makes him laugh.

Of course, this did not work because he is attempting to summon something from another plane of existence, the afterlife.

He has been going about this all wrong. No, he does not need a dead body, nor all the seals that he has made for it. He just needs their essence, and a sacrifice. A living one.

Tobirama actually does laugh this time, but it is not a jolly sound. It is metal grating against metal, it is low, sinister and more of an outburst–a response to all the troubles that he has been keeping inside for a long time.

He presses his palms to his eyes, and he digs it in, until his eyelids begin to look white. His body shakes, and his heartbeat hikes up until he feels it bounding on his neck.

He has his answer, but why does it make him like he just lost? This should be his victory. This is something good.

Right?

He has been telling himself that this is the right thing to do. The only way to do the right thing. Yet it fills him with emptiness.

However, he feels himself descend into this emptiness. He dives into it, face first. His hand reaches for the first paper he can touch, and a pen that happens to roll closer to him.

He writes down his thoughts about the Edo Tensei, about his assumptions and what he can test. He knows that he cannot use the living, because this village will take notice. They will have to be enemy shinobi. His thoughts disgust him–because he is only inconvenienced by the fact that he cannot use the people around him, and he has to look for a sacrifice somewhere else.

The thin line of what he can and cannot do begins to blur and Tobirama feels the madness that he is engulfed in. There is no difference between him and his enemies, as there are no bounds to what he will do to preserve what he has. He believes to be fighting for the good side, yet his enemies will claim to be doing the same thing.

His mind jumps from one thought to another, when he thinks of the underground prison that holds Kimiko and where other prisoners from outside the village get detained.

Tobirama’s hands begin to shake, but he wills them still. Then, he stands up. He feels his success spread through his chest, and he pushes back against what is telling him to stop. There is no stopping.

He rushes there, the door to his lab slamming open as he flies through the dingy, underground hallways.

The lights are dark green, and the walls are black, the paint fading and peeling away; they curl at the top and they look almost like fingers clawing against the wall. The air is thick with moisture, and his steps echo loud in his ears.

Finally, he arrives in front of Kimiko’s cell.

He hears Kimiko’s foreboding laugh.

“Come to finish the job, Lord Nidaime? Like you have done with the other prisoners?” Kimiko says, her voice raspy, like nails against a blackboard.

Tobirama grits his teeth. This scene is almost too familiar to him.

“So it didn’t work?” Kimiko asks in a hushed voice. “With all the bodies you have added to your kill, you still cannot turn things around?”

“I know what I have been doing wrong,” Tobirama drones on, his voice sounding cold and detached. It does not even feel like his own, but it sounds like his.

Kimiko approaches the bars of the cell, her appearance exactly like a corpse.

Tobirama looks her stone cold in the eye. “Miura Kimiko, as the Hokage, I hereby sentence you to death.”

You wake with a gasp, and the papers on you fall to the ground. You are covered in sweat, and it soaks the front of your shirt, like water has been splashed on you. You wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand and you stare at the space in front of you. You let out a sigh, and you glance at the space beside you.

No Tobirama.

And the nightmares are back.

Your heart squeezes, and you swing your legs over the bed, deciding to get some fresh air.

For a while, you stand on the engawa, looking at the night sky and the low-hanging crescent moon. A howl hoots nearby, but other than that, it is quiet. You watch the streets from your house, as you can see it from where you are standing, but there is no sign of Tobirama coming home.

You cross your arms. It is very late. You wonder what is keeping him at work. You know that Tobirama rarely sleeps these days, and when he does, the hours are short and far in between.

Suddenly, there is knocking on the front gates and you rush to open it and see who is behind them. It cannot be Tobirama, since he has a key.

When you pull the gate open, you find Mito behind it, and you step back with wide eyes.

“Where is Tobirama?” She asks, a perturbed frown etched on her elegant, pristine face.

You shake your head. “Not here.”

Mito takes a deep breath and she composes herself. “I apologize for coming by so late. Hashirama has gone missing again. He is not in the village.”

Even though Mito is calmer than the ocean, you can sense the urgency behind her words. She never really loses her composure.

Your vision gets faraway for a second, and then it focuses on the dark streets of the Senju compound, which leads to the village.

“Us and our missing husbands,” you try to joke, but the tone of your voice sounds dead.

Mito’s eyes flash to you with concern. “I can come with you, if you’d like.”

You turn to her slowly, a sense of vertigo hanging on the center of your forehead. It takes a moment to process her words, but you shake off your stupor. You want to brave through your fears.

“I can manage, thank you, Mito,” you say. “If Hashirama comes back, it is best he finds a comforting face.”

Mito stares at you, but she does not object. “Be careful.”

You give her a wry smile. “Our Senju husbands are a handful, aren’t they?”

Mito sighs, and she reaches for your hand. “Thank you.”

The whole walk towards the Hokage office is filled with your uneasiness, and the paranoia that the shadows are about to jump at you, but you get there nonetheless. The first thing you notice is that the Hokage mansion is quiet. There is no one here, and when you get to the office itself, Tobirama is not there.

You stand outside the office doors for quite some time, until you finally get your legs to walk you towards the direction of Tobirama’s lab.

You hate going in there, as every aspect of the lab seems like a danger to you. It is the place where Tobirama spends the most time conjuring up jutsus, his very own controlled environment, that sometimes blew up because of his doing. It is suffocating in there and no light is permitted unless Tobirama puts up lanterns.

You sigh, as you step through the winding underground labyrinth. This place gives you more chills, since you know Kimiko is also here.

Come to think about it, this place is too quiet. There are no signs of life. Not even the rush of labored breathing.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you tread cautiously towards Tobirama’s laboratory.

As you get closer, you hear sounds of struggle and of things getting broken and slammed from impact.

You snap alert and you hurry towards the door. You pry it open, and just as you find Tobirama, you see him take his kunai and lodge it against his enemy’s neck, and through brute force, his kunai digs deep into the neck and through it, severing the head.

You stop in your tracks, and you watch Tobirama step back to observe what he did. You begin to taste bile at the back of your throat.

The body that he decapitated did not spray blood nor crumple to the ground, but it begins to be made whole. Ashes fly to it, remodelling the original form until it looks human.

You gasp, and Tobirama whirls around and sees you.

“What are you doing here?!” Tobirama demands.

His voice makes you step backwards.

The being regards you, and probably from the animosity of Tobirama’s voice, it reacts by charging towards you.

You let out a strangled scream, and your instincts make you step to the side, but before it can go near you, it is dispersed and a crumple piled of ashes fall to the ground.

You feel the burn of acid go up the back of your throat, and before you know it, you turn to your side and you begin to hurl your insides.

Your mind draws blank.

When you are done, you wipe the corner of your mouth and you look at Tobirama, who is regarding you with a cold expression.

“What is this?” You rasp out. Your eyes feel cold, and your hands are numb. “What did you do?”

Your gaze wanders through the lab, and you see corpses on the examination table, papers strewn on the floor, unraveled scrolls spread out over desks, and another corpse on the floor, covered in tags.

“Tobirama…” You trail off. Your heart drops heavily to your stomach.

Your husband dwells in the dark, my lady, and in the shadows, he plays god with the dead .

Tears begin to gather in your eyes, and your vision gets blurry.

Why don’t you just die and see what I mean?

“Did you...did you bring me back with this? You said I died…” You murmur in disbelief. And hurt.

Tobirama can see how repulsed you are and with that, he swallows back his emotions.

“Tobirama,” you snap, this time with anger. “What the hell is going on?”

Tobirama stares at you coolly, and you hate that expression of his. It is like he is in battle and he is analyzing the fight to come up with a brilliant strategy.

“I created a new jutsu,” he replies. “It is our safeguard. This can help us at war.”

Your eyes widen in horror and you step towards him. “Help us? At war? There is no war! Isn’t it our goal to have no more wars? So we can stop fighting and go home alive ?!” You practically scream at him.

Tobirama is eerily calm and you loathe it. You know that he is shutting down. However, his words do not match his expression.

“Elder brother is dying,” he says quietly. “This is the only thing I can do.”

“No!” You shout.

“This jutsu,” Tobirama starts. “This will ensure that no more lives will suffer. This jutsu raises the dead to create an unstoppable army. Now tell me if that is not a good thing.”

You press a hand to your eyes, trying to drive away the images of the corpses around you.

“They are just dead bodies,” Tobirama says, detached. “They are dead . I can control them.”

“No, shut up!” You snap. “What did it take? Huh? What did it take for your good thing to happen?”

Tobirama’s eyes narrow. “If you are disgusted, then you are free to leave.” He crosses his arms. “When Hashirama is gone, this village will be vulnerable.”

“Your brother is dying, and this is what you do? Make a solution to bring him back alive?” You step closer to him, and Tobirama backs off in surprise.

He expects you to run off and to leave him.

“There is no cure,” he finally snaps. He wanted you to go because it is easier to deal with what he has done without you.

“Then why do you spend so much time with the dead? Why can’t you go and spend time with him? For the gods’ sakes, he is out there!” You put your hands on him and you push him back. “Tobirama, do you even hear how insane you sound? How can you rationalize this? Are your dead brothers just dead bodies, then? Our baby girl? My late students?!”

Tobirama takes it, and his face breaks open with the emotions he has been holding back.

“This is the only thing I can do! The only way to make sure this village is protected! If my brother goes, then the world becomes our enemy!”

“Senju Tobirama!” You scream on top of his voice, and it silences him for a moment. “Is there no end to this?!”

Tobirama glares at you, and you cannot unhear how broken he sounds. He finally loses it. “THERE IS NO END!” He explodes, and his voice rings in the room.

You take your hands and you slam them against his chest, once, twice, with you biting back your tears. The two of you are breathing hard, and you feel Tobirama’s heartbeat underneath your palm. You ball your hands into a fist and you slam them against his chest again, unable to say anything else.

“Why don’t you go?” Tobirama pleads. “Please, just go. Leave me alone, leave me be!”

You let your tears fall from your eyes. “You, Senju Tobirama, have no faith in yourself, and you are breaking my heart. You set up this world, you made it so that we can have peace, and we will continue to work on that. Peace is not all about strength!”

You meet his eyes. “You are wise. You are brilliant, and all the good things a shinobi must be!”

Tobirama shakes his head, feeling his eyes prick with tears. His chest tightens painfully. “I have not done enough!”

You grab the front of Tobirama’s shirt and you clutch it harder. You feel like if you let go, you will lose him to this madness. “Nothing will never be enough, not in this lifetime or the next!”

Tobirama grabs your wrists. “How can you say that?”

“Because we will never know what happens next! We are only humans, Tobirama. If you are a god, then by all means, raise the dead, bring back our dead child, control everything you can control.”

The two of you fall into silence.

Tobirama wanted you to turn away because he does not know how to handle the grace you are giving him. He did not want to deal with your disappointment, so he wanted you to feel repulsed.

However, he is met with understanding and compassion, and he cannot wrap his head around that. He wants to flee.

Tobirama’s forehead falls to yours, and you feel his tears on your cheeks. “ Elder brother is dying,” he finally says, but it is with acceptance. “He’s...going to leave me.”

It breaks his heart. Nothing can ever prepare him for Hashirama’s death. He still needs his elder brother. They are one hell of a duo–there is nothing in this world they cannot accomplish. He does not want to be alone, or be left behind. No matter how much he isolates himself, he values his family above all, and there is nothing in this world that he wants other than for his family to thrive and to be happy.

“Yes,” you tell him quietly. “But he is out there.”

You grab Tobirama’s face, and you make him face you. “And he needs you to bring him back home, alright?”

Tobirama stares at you, looking painfully lost. It is a rare sight to see him so vulnerable. “I do not know what to do. I do not know. I have spent all my life knowing, and I don't-I don't know anymore.”

You feel his exhaustion in his body and his words, the way your touch makes him lean further towards you and give in.

“Yes, you do,” you reassure him, and you caress his high cheekbones with your thumb. “Yes, you do. So go to him.”

Tobirama shakes his head, and he places his big hands over yours. “I am sorry.”

You know how heavy the crown Tobirama wears, how it bears down on him that it drives him insane. It is not like his fears for the future are unfounded. You understand where he is coming from, but you cannot stand here and let him waste away giving his life effort among the dead. You understand so much that it hurts. The pain of being on fire pales in comparison to this.

You wipe his tears away. “And...I love you. No matter what.”

Tobirama squeezes your hands, but he is still looking down at the distance between the two of you. “That is terribly naive of you.”

“Well, you know me,” you whisper.

“Thank you,” Tobirama murmurs, and finally, he feels a kind of peace settle over his shoulders. It is a comfort that he will spend the rest of his life with you.

He knows that he cannot waste your grace, and he will do whatever he can to be worthy of it.

Tobirama kisses your forehead, and you close your eyes as he pulls you into his arms. When you open them, you are back in your own home, and he takes off to go find his brother.

You wait for Tobirama’s return in the engawa, the cold morning air of near dawn making your nose runny. It smells of dew now, and the sky is beginning to turn into a lighter shade of blue that makes you see the green of the grass and the leaves of the trees. You stare off into the distance, worrying for him, but you know that he will be back. He has always made good on that promise.

Finally, the gate opens and you see Tobirama walk in.

He pauses from where he is and he looks to you. You see the shadows on his face that cuts his features into sharp details–the way his cheeks hollow and his jaw juts out like a knife–he is always beautiful, no matter what.

“I told my brother about the Edo Tensei,” he tells you the moment he gets closer. “We are going to seal it away, and make it a Forbidden jutsu.”

“That, you should,” you reply wryly. It has been a very long night. “It cannot fall to the wrong hands.”

“Yes,” Tobirama agrees.

The two of you make your way towards your bedroom, and once you are in the confines of your bedroom, your walls fall away. Tobirama walks to the corner of the room, his back to you. The two of you let the silence settle, and you approach him, and quietly slide your arms around his waist and lean your head on the space between his shoulder blades.

Tobirama lets out a long sigh, and he rests his arms over yours.

“What do we do next?” Tobirama asks quietly.

“We don’t have to do anything just yet,” you reply, and you plant a kiss on his back.

Tobirama turns to face you and slides his arm around your waist and sidles you up against him. Tobirama’s tired eyes pore over yours, and the hardness of his stature fades away. He melts into you, and he finds your lips against his.

Tobirama pulls away, and he grazes a thumb over your cheek. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You blink at him.

Tobirama leans towards you again, and he kisses you softly. Slowly, he walks the two of you to the bed, and he gently lays you down on your back.

Your fingers trail down to the hem of his shirt, and you draw it towards you to take it off. Tobirama tosses his clothing aside, and he leans over you again, his naked torso pressing against yours.

“You cried,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the bone over his eyebrow.

“You did as well,” Tobirama murmurs.

“Don’t you ever ask me to leave you,” you rest your palm on his cheek. “Then, I will really cry.”

“I told you not to cry over me,” Tobirama rolls to his side, bringing you along with him.

“How could I not? Quit asking me for impossible things.”

Tobirama stares at the ceiling, unsure of what to say next. He clutches you to him like an anchor locking its ship to one place.

“I want to do right by you, and my brother, and this village,” Tobirama starts, his voice low in his chest. “But I get lost in it. This world is too harsh, and sometimes it takes a mile to move an inch.”

“Will you still stand by me, after everything?” Tobirama glances down at you.

You hold Tobirama and you press your cheek against his shoulder hard. These words are binding, but it is your vow with him. Come what may, but it is with readiness you face these challenges with him. You see him clearly, and you are only beginning to get the scope of what he is prepared to lay down to protect those he loves. He is flawed, and you acknowledge that. You know that your husband is capable of making the hardest moves even if the world will hate him for it. You will not always agree with him, but you believe in his vision and the way he hopes the world can be in the future.

And that makes him human. Perhaps more than anyone you have ever met or have known in your life.

The thing is, there is no black and white in the lens that Tobirama sees the world in. You have learned that not everything is simple, that some things just cannot be fixed no matter how hard you search for answers.

The two of you need to accept that in order to move on.

“Until death do us part,” you whisper to him.

END.

coming soon: “touch your heart” (their first meeting and how they fell in love)

#angelica writes #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #senju tobirama x you #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x you #tobirama x reader #'til death do us part #you never said goodbye timeline/au #naruto fanfiction

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rosebug-aus · 4 years

Photo

CW: a small amount of blood

A fancy top for a fancy bottom ;)

#art #vamp dan #victorian vamp #til death do us part au #polygrumps #shipgrumps #ninja ship party #polybomb #egobang

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snazzy-suit · 5 years

Note

I have no doubt that boos and other unalives can love, but what happens when they love someone who isn't dead yet? Do they just wait? I can't imagine that'd be safe for the living party! "Hey can you die now I wanna give you a kiss without phasing through you"

Romantic relationships between mortals and spirits are rare, but not unheard of. It’s generally discouraged because of several complicating factors.

The souls of mortals are fundamentally different from spirits (the latter being a separate entity, not someone that was once “alive”); they are not meant to stay on our plain of existence. Remaining on this side of the veil is difficult and dangerous for mortal souls, as they are at risk of being corrupted by negative energy (and thus, becoming Vitiates).

Spirits can pass between realms easily and with little to no consequence. If they were to form a romantic relationship with a mortal soul, they would have to spend much of their existence on the other side of the veil for the sake of their partner. In other words, the spirit has to be willing to give up frequent passage to the mortal plain.

Compared to this, the “mortal” aspect of the relationship isn’t very daunting. Spirits can make themselves more tangible than your typical ghost, so smooches are actually fairly simple. 😂 Really, the most difficult part is watching their partner age while they virtually stay the same.

#Boos #Spirits #Mortals #til death do us part? the heck does that mean?#- a Spirit. Probably #LLoG AU #LLoG Asks #Spirit Asks #Boo Asks #suit speaks

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ikesenhell · 6 years

Text

Til Death Do Us Part

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here.

NOTE: This gets sad. Terribly sad. Apologies in advance.

Looking back on his life, Kenshin had to shakily admit to himself that this was the most terrifying thing he’d ever done.

“Stop bouncing your knees,” Sasuke hissed in his ear. “You’ll crease the pants.”

“I am not bouncing,” Kenshin snapped back, but smoothed the front of his suit nonetheless. A beat. Sasuke leaned in again.

“Shingen asks if you’re nervous.”

Kenshin turned his head completely this time, staring past his Best Man to the smarmy looking groomsman next in line, and flicked him off. Shingen blew him a kiss back.

“If no one gives me your head for my wedding, I’ll be extremely disappointed.”

Shingen framed his face with his hands. “Still attached. Be disappointed.”

The organ started. The men all straightened up on their cue, and Kenshin wondered for the thousandth time why he hadn’t taken at least one (or two, or eight) sip of sake before they’d started this. Some of her bridal party started down the aisle, and then--

Oh.

Kenshin wondered if it would be too out of place to just sink to his knees. There she was, a vision in silk and lace, and he couldn’t decide if he loved all the sudden picture-taking from cellphones in the congregation (more of her to look at later) or if he wanted to steal her from the assembled right now.

Mine. She is mine. And I am hers. And her smile is for me alone.

Nobunaga and he exchanged a curt nod as the other man passed him off to her, and Kenshin considered the finer points of saying to hell with this and just kissing her now. But he waited. Oh, he stayed himself and waited, reciting the vows without much else in his head but her.

And there was the fateful line--”Til Death do us part”--and he remembered why he was so terrified again. Kenshin caught her hands in his and squeezed hard, harder than he meant to, trying not to consider not just the possibility of her death but the utter truth of it, the grave-dust that awaited them all, not just her, but hers concerned him the most--

But she stilled his thoughts with a touch on his cheek and a smile that thawed him. She knew. She knew him too well.

And at long last, he could kiss the bride.

They had a daughter, and only the one. There were complications.

“The headaches shouldn’t be too bad,” the doctor sighed, wrapping up her examination. “Take some asprin, make sure your blood pressure stays nice and even, and keep an eye out for any more pain. Okay? The infection is gone, but we don’t want to see any... further complications.”

Kenshin didn’t know what that meant. All he knew was that he had a beautiful, wonderful wife and a darling baby daughter, and he was going to spoil them both.

They named her Juniper. She took after him in some ways: heterochromia, it seemed, hung on through the family line. She had his very serious expression when displeased, a fact that tickled Shingen so terribly that it brought him to tears of laughter.

“I keep expecting she’ll threaten to cut off my head!” The man wheezed, pausing from his half-hearted attempt to feed her apple sauce. “She really doesn’t like this!”

“Of course not,” Kenshin answered, affronted, and realized all at once that he was making the same face as his daughter. “Sweet apple sauce is disgusting.”

For his wonderful Princess’ part--he insisted she take a medical leave from work. The headaches had not stopped, not at all. Some days she was so dizzy she could barely get up in the morning, and it scared her so badly that she would roll back into bed and cry. Kenshin held her in his arms and kissed her forehead until she fell back asleep, then resumed his intermittent googling to try and discover anything that could help. A few times he texted Sasuke to complain about the lack of studies into post-natal, woman-centric healthcare and complications.

I’m not in obstetrics but I hear you.

Then why don’t you do that? Someone has to fill in that gap.

Sasuke didn’t respond. Kenshin truthfully didn’t expect one.

Juniper grew more and more each passing year, and he wanted to cry at every fresh inch tacked onto the wall of the pantry.

She was sharp and sweet, a brilliant student and a kind heart like her mother. He was so, so, so grateful for that. Some nights he would just sit at the dinner table with them, the pizza in front of him untouched, falling further and further into love the more he watched the two of them. A decade ago, he never would have imagined himself capable of so much love. But now--oh, god help him, now there was nothing in the world he cared about half as much as the two beautiful, incredible, unspeakable people in his life.

Shingen made an innocent comment once about how beautiful Juniper was getting. Sasuke had to talk Kenshin down from stabbing him.

His Princess didn’t work anymore. The headaches and dizziness had only grown worse over the years, and no amount of doctor appointments or MRIs had gotten them any closer to a solution. Some nights she woke up sobbing from them, and he quietly filled their porcelain tub with warm water and lavender bubbles, fetching a candle for their only light, and slipped into the bath with her. After a while she would still in his arms and go back to sleep, and he, loathe to wake her after the hard-won rest, would wait until the water was freezing around him before disturbing her again--and that was only to make sure she didn’t get a cold.

She didn’t complain about them. Not much, at least. But when one of the attacks came on, he could see the frigid moment of panic and denial rising up in her eyes, the treacherous thought on all the things she’d rather be than in pain, still, constantly, and those fateful words from their wedding floated through his mind like an omen.

Juniper called him at work when she was sixteen about the first one.

“She’s on the ground--” His so composed, so sweet daughter was sobbing, barely coherent. “She like, she’s twitching, I can’t--she won’t respond--”

Kenshin didn’t bother with anything except his car keys, already headed to the parking lot at the first sob. “Ambulance. Call one.”

“I d-d-did, I--”

“I’m calling Shingen, he’s closer,” he snapped, then added, “It’s okay, Juni, it’s okay, she’ll be alright--”

“Okay, okay, please dad, please come home--”

“I am, honey. I am.”

It took only two seconds of him sobbing into the phone before Shingen said he would drive over and hung up, no explanation required.

The second seizure happened when they were in the hospital.

There was a name for her condition, a damn name, and Kenshin contemplated hurling the doctor that told him it across the room. There was no cure. That she hadn’t had a seizure before was likely because of his insistence that she stay home and relax, which barely eased his blooming self-hatred.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, stroking hair away from her beautiful, incredible, perfect eyes, planting kisses on her fingers. “I should have done more.”

“You ridiculous man,” she sighed, nothing but grace. “No one could have done anything.”

Kenshin didn’t like accepting inevitability into his life. “I love you.”

She smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Juniper went to college on a full scholarship for a dual degree in Political Science and Japanese, and they were empty nesters. Out of anxiety, he moved his office back home to be with his wife, setting his desk in the same studio where she liked to sit and do paintings. They had a help dog now, a golden retriever named Molly. She had sensed her seizures twice before they happened and bought valuable time, but even so, Kenshin wanted to be there.

Mornings were softer affairs than before. He woke in the golden glow of her, wrapping his arms tight around her body and worshiping every perfect inch of her with his fingertips. Her hair grew in grey in streaks, and every time he found a new one he would kiss it, thanking it for the grace that he could see them arrive. Time with her was a valuable thing. As they aged together, every sunrise where he could see the youth of her slip into her glorious twilight years was a gift beyond compare.

God, he loved, loved, loved her so much.

“I’m getting old,” she sighed one morning, staring at herself into the mirror.

“As am I,” he answered, stroking a fingertip over her cheek. “And what a blessing it is that I get to share it with you.”

The Big One--as he would call it to himself later, much later, when he couldn’t even name it to himself--happened on a Wednesday. Molly began barking and jumping around, trying to get to the phone, so Kenshin dialed the number, and barely had he gotten to the second digit before she was on the floor convulsing.

She was unconscious by the time they brought her to the hospital. Shingen and Sasuke had to hold him back when the doctor gave them the prognosis.

In all honesty, he didn’t remember most of the week. Juniper arrived at some point and collapsed into his arms in tears, barely able to hold it together for her mother. Shingen pointedly took turns keeping watch in the hospital room when he knew Kenshin was too tired to stay awake, ignoring all irritable insistence that he was just fine, thank you, and could stay up still.

She woke up once--only once, and not for very long, and Kenshin cradled her in his arms and kissed her over and over and over until he saw the smile form in the crease of her lips.

“I love you,” he gasped, barely able to form the words without crying, and god forbid he cried in front of her right now. “I love you. I love you. Death can’t take you from me.”

She couldn’t talk, but she wrapped her fingers in his shirt just over his chest and tapped there--one, two, three, as if to say I live here. Of course he can’t.

A week later, she was gone.

Juniper moved home over the summer. She insisted it was to save money, but Kenshin couldn’t help but notice that whenever she was out, either Sasuke or Shingen were there, pointedly making him participate in the world. Even Yukimura joined in on the ridiculous circus, but Kenshin was too drained to snap at them in his usual way.

Besides. With his Love gone, he needed someone to keep his head on straight.

Fall came and Kenshin cried the night before Juniper left again, holding tight to his chest the pillow that his wife used to sleep on, and he dreamed of her.

My love. My sweetheart. What are you doing?

He held his breath and willed his heart to stop pounding so he could hear her better, and the pillow transformed into her--her legs between his, her arms against his chest, her perfect lips against his.

I love you. I love you. I love you. And Death can’t take me from you.

Juniper married her college sweetheart and together they adopted a son, also named Kenshin, and every day he would either come by their house to see his grandson or would call.

He was old, now. He’d retired at last, setting himself stubbornly into the same house that he and his wife and his daughter had lived in, despite all of Sasuke’s well-intentioned wheedling that he ‘downsize’. How could he? His memories of Her were omnipresent, sure, but he could see where the brush strokes she’d made fell on his walls, the tick marks that matched the inches his daughter grew on the pantry wall, the vague impression of one of her sandals in their patio where she’d stepped in wet concrete. Nowhere else had that.

The week before, he knew.

He couldn’t quite make it up the stairs anymore, so he settled stubbornly in on the couch, but not even that could explain the persistent pain in his chest. Some nights he could see her hands rubbing his shoulders, her eyes bright and beautiful on the pillow next to him, her smile luminous and a tap tap tap on his chest as if to say, you’ll join me soon, my love, won’t you?

And one of those nights when he closed his eyes, Kenshin already knew it was the last time. He laid out all his affairs on the kitchen counter, neat and precise, and told his daughter and grandson he loved them, and penned Shingen and Sasuke and even Yukimura thank-you-notes that he was too hard-headed to recite to them with his own mouth.

This time, when she came to him, he reached out and touched her back, solid and real as the couch under him, and when she pulled him up they were both young again. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her over and over and over until she was gasping and laughing (but no crying--no, never crying, not ever again).

And--not for the first time, he remembered his vows to her all those years ago, and mentally scratched out that one unnecessary one: Til Death do us part.

#Til death do us part #kenshin uesugi #uesugi kenshin #ikesen kenshin #modern kenshin #sickness tw #seizure tw #death tw #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #modern ikesen au #my writing #sadness #sasuke sarutobi #sarutobi sasuke #ikesen sasuke #shingen takeda #takeda shingen #ikesen shingen

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tuskididntwakeup · 3 years

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ok so yeah thanks google

#quoteoftheday #relatable quotes #19th century #rap #rave #reptiblr #retro #positivity #recipes #road trip #sad edit #jsab au #what a cutie #til death do us part #no filter #our edits #loved loved loved

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harmoniouspixels · 6 years

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Makoto: [royal personality] Well peasant, it seems you’ve guessed correctly!

#Baines MMBC #Baines MMBC Episode 18: Til Death Do Us Part #Makoto Naegi #sims 3 #plot twist: Baines MMBC was a convoluted set up for a mastermind!Naegi AU #well yes and no but we're here now

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

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try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 2

Chapter 2, part 1 - Then

Summary: You and Tobirama discuss children. Some smut.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: important baby-making smut. some jealous kunoichis.

available on AO3.

< Chapter 1 |

“The kids are going to stop by tomorrow for dinner,” Tobirama states in passing as he sips his morning tea.

You raise an eyebrow. “The kids? You still call them that?” You ask teasingly.

Tobirama glances at you, and he stares at you in that placid way of his. “They’re still kids to me.”

You let out a little laugh, and this piques his interest. You forget how doting of a teacher Tobirama is, when he is not training his students to the death. He looks after them well like his own, and when his students are complimented, he takes pride in their progress. He is almost... fatherly . Sometimes you forget that.

“What?” Tobirama inquires, setting down his cup of tea.

You shake your head. “Just had this passing thought of how you would be like as a father, I mean, you did kind of raised those kids .”

The tips of Tobirama’s ears flush red, and his fingers search for something to hold on to. “Well, I did.”

Tobirama clears his throat, clearly embarrassed and he shuffles the papers in front of him and attends to his breakfast. He says nothing else after that, not really needing to elaborate. You let him be, and just focused on getting something into your stomach. Tobirama has been busy more than normal these days, and this is something that you know you cannot help him with since it requires a lot of travelling on his own part and meetings with other people outside of Konoha. Tensions are brewing across the lands, but from what you know from your husband, it seems like there is a chance for an alliance with Kumogakure.

The sun is still barely visible in the morning sky, but the two of you had risen early since you planned to visit your students’ graves. Tobirama had offered his company, and you acquiesced because it is another moment to spend with him.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Tobirama suddenly asks as the two of you walk back to your bedroom.

You glance at your husband and note how hushed his demeanor is. It is like he is trying not to tread on dangerous ground. “No? What are you talking about?”

Tobirama clears his throat again and shakes his head.

You think about how he was acting during breakfast and you smile secretly. “Do you want children?”

Tobirama stares at you almost dumbfoundedly, and it makes you want to laugh.

“I never thought about it,” Tobirama says quickly and more forcibly than necessary, and he opens the door to your bedroom and leaves you alone in the hallway with a puzzled mind.

You sigh and follow him in, and watch him as he changes his clothes. You fold your arms and press your lips together, thinking of how to talk about this topic of children.

“I want to build a family with you,” you finally admit quietly. You look down on the floor, not wanting to see how he will react. "I know the timing is not... convenient , but I just want to put it out there."

At first, you are met with silence. Then you hear shuffling of clothes, and Tobirama is in front of you. You see his hands twitch, hesitating, but finally, he places them on your shoulders and he catches your gaze.

“I never thought about it,” Tobirama repeats, more firmly. “But this is also up to you.”

You expected Tobirama to react more adversely, but when you look at his face, you feel his sincerity. He really has not thought about it, and this is him, reassuring you in his confusing way that he wants to discuss it with you, to make sure that the two of you are on the same page.

You smile at him, and Tobirama’s hands squeezes your shoulder.

“Okay,” you tell him, and Tobirama nods. You note in his eyes that there is a bit of excitement and worry in there, but when he turns to continue dressing, he plays them back down.

It is still early in the morning, but this time there are birds chirping loudly overhead, and the sun, while bright and blinding, shines a warmth so soft it feels like an embrace. You and Tobirama offer up flowers and food on your students’ graves, and then you spend a long moment in silence. Tobirama’s shoulder is pressing against yours to offer you comfort, and you gingerly lace your fingers with his.

He doesn’t pull away.

The two of you stay like that, until Tobirama squeezes your hand and promptly pulls away when you both sensed a presence approaching. The two of you step to the side to make way for the person, who turns out to be one of the parents of your late students. You watch the mother lay down her flowers for her child, and your heart squeezes in pain. You couldn’t imagine how devastated she is if you are also grieving. In her case, that part does not end.

The mother, Miura Kimiko, also happens to work for your household. She is the one who asked you to give her daughter another chance of becoming a shinobi when you had deemed her unfit for the battlefield. You should have stayed strong in your stance no matter what. At least, she would have her child.

After Kimiko finishes her usual rites on her child’s grave, she turns and bows to you and your husband.

“Kimiko-san,” you greet. Beside you, Tobirama nods, a hand behind his back.

“Lord Nidaime,” she addresses. “My lady.”

You search for words of comfort to offer her, but none comes to you. No words of apology will heal the wound in her heart.

Tobirama steps away after spotting a hawk in the sky, and turns to you. “I must take my leave. I will see you later.”

You give him a strained smile and nod.

Tobirama turns to Kimiko. “I will leave my wife to your care.”

With that, Tobirama walks away, leaving you to converse with Kimiko.

Kimiko gestures forward, and you start walking. She falls into step behind you, but the air still feels like it needs to be filled with words.

“I-” You start, trying to find the courage to utter one of the two most difficult words to say.

“My lady, I must thank you for continuing to visit my daughter’s grave,” Kimiko beats you to it. “Mieko has always looked up to you.”

“I am sorry, Kimiko-san,” you say, but it does not lift the weight in your heart.

Kimiko shakes her head solemnly. “Such is a life for a shinobi.”

You nod. Nothing else needs to be said. You both understand what is at stake when you are out there on a mission.

The two of you walk in silence, and you head for the general direction of the food markets. Shops start to open, and people and children start to mill around to get to their own destinations. You watch little children flock together and make their way to the Academy and you smile at their exuberance.

Those who recognize you stop to greet and bow to you, and you offer them the warmth of a friend. No matter how many times you are treated this formally, you can never really get used to it.

“My lady, forgive me if I am prying, but I overheard you and Lord Nidaime talking about children earlier and I was wondering...if you two are trying for a child right now,” Kimiko says.

You blush a little, and flash her a nervous smile. “It is nothing definite, Kimiko-san. It was just mentioned in passing.”

Kimiko shrugs. “If you ever need any help with fertility, or even through the duration of your pregnancy, I know a thing or two about it. My family has worked with herbs and the like, to ascertain healthy pregnancies.”

You blink at her kindness. “I may have to take you up on that later.”

Kimiko nods and you point towards the market so that the two of you can head towards there. You make sure to walk beside her, because for some reason, it is custom for servants to walk a few steps behind the people they serve. It is lucky that Kimiko does not look away when addressing you, because that will make you feel even worse. You already feel responsible for her child’s death. The least you can do is offer compassion. You can be a friend to those who need it.

You and Tobirama walk around the streets of Konoha. After he had finished most of his work in the Hokage office, you drag him outside to get some fresh air, since the dust that had gathered in the office keeps making him sneeze and his eyes itch. People in high spirits wander the streets, and children that just got off the Academy run around to play. Shinobis alike are also enjoying their downtime, or are taking their time to do their menial missions within the village.

Every now and then, you glance at your husband, finding his face and his posture relaxed, something he only does when you’re around. Your hands brush against each other, but neither of you take the initiative and instead, settle for the occasional shoulder bumps. These kinds of moments remind you of the time when you two were just starting out to work out your differences in your budding relationship.

In a way, Tobirama has never changed, but is also changing by the times he shows you his most private thoughts and feelings. There is still a lot to work out with him, but the certainty of working through every hurdle in life with him by your side is enough.

Your silence is interrupted when a group of kunoichis carrying their young approach the Hokage. You look on, preemptively amused as the women practically throw their babies to the Hokage with no warning. Tobirama meets your eyes, his shock apparent and begging for help.

This is not new to him, since he and his brother get handed babies a lot so that they can bless their children and wish them strength as growing shinobi.

You stand to the side and apart from the crowd, hiding your smile as Tobirama holds one baby after another. It is not like he does not know how to hold them, since he has held his nephews many times and has let them climb over him and used his arms to hang from, but all the attention and the cooing is making him uneasy. He is about a few seconds ready to take off.

“When will you have your own child, Lord Nidaime?” One of them asks.

Tobirama’s eyes widen for a fraction, then stoically, he answers, “That will be up to my wife.”

All eyes turn to you and you freeze like a criminal caught in the act. They look at you with demanding eyes, as if you are withholding child-bearing from their precious Hokage.

“When it happens, it happens,” you reply awkwardly. You catch a few disapproving looks here and there. The judgement in their eyes reminds you how many women are vying to be with your husband, and how qualified he was as a bachelor to be allied with other clans. Now, he’s stuck with you.

“You’re not getting any younger, my lady,” another says with a bit of a scorn. “You should at least have three kids running around already.”

“It’s a shame Lord Hokage’s genes won’t be passed down.”

Your face colors in shame–you feel like you are being blamed. Tobirama scowls visibly, not caring if the others see it. Your husband takes it upon himself to step towards you and to shield you from more questions.

“Forgive us, but we have to be somewhere else,” Tobirama interrupts curtly and he takes you by the elbow.

Once the two of you are away, Tobirama lets go of your elbow and is looking at everywhere else, except you.

You glance at him, and you sense that he is embarrassed.

“What?” He almost snaps.

“They probably think that I’m barren or something.” You reply, just as embarrassed. “Or unfit to be your wife.”

Tobirama’s face morphs into something a bit stormier. “I did not marry you just for child-rearing. Do not think like that.”

You shrug. “It feels like that sometimes.”

Tobirama pauses and he turns to face you. “Why?” He demands.

You crack a smile at his scowl. Does he have any other better expression?

Tobirama scans your face. As much as you are good at reading him, he is also almost as good at catching your jokes. “Stop making fun of me,” he snaps.

“I will if you hold my hand,” you reply cheekily.

Tobirama looks around, checking if there are people spectating. He also goes the extra mile by using his sensory skills to check for nearby people who might spring up on them. He finds none.

“You always do this,” Tobirama chides. He grabs your hand without warning, and pulls you even closer so that your entwined hands aren’t completely visible. “Happy?”

part 2 of this chapter >

#angelica writes #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #tobirama x you #tobirama x reader #naruto #Naruto Shippuden #naruto founders #naruto fanfiction #you never said goodbye timeline/au #'til death do us part

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rosebug-aus · 4 years

Photo

Do their fits coordinate? You better believe it! Did they both cry a little? Of course not. They cried a lot.

#art #victorian vamp #til death do us part au #polygrumps #shipgrumps #ninja ship party

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takivvatanga · 4 years

Text

ghosts.

“Do I really have to stay the whole weekend?”

Stella slides down in her seat, tugs at the seatbelt, trying to catch glimpses of her parents’ faces reflected in the car mirrors. Usually, she loves riding in the car, but today, cramped into the back seat next to several pieces of luggage, she is feeling more than just a little apprehensive.

“Stella, we talked about this. You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. We just…”

Assire turns around to face her daughter, and Stella can tell by a certain tension in her face, by a certain expression in her eyes, by a certain inflection in her voice that she is worried about something. Should Stella be worried, too? She looks to her father for reassurance, but Jonathan’s face does not offer any insight into the matter – whatever the matter may be.

“We just need some time together. Away from the city, away from home. Just your Dad and I.”

“But why can’t I come too? It’s not fair.”

“Stella, you are going to your aunt Mary’s for the weekend as we all agreed.” Her father’s tone brooks no insolence, and Stella shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “If I recall this correctly, you didn’t have any objections to this plan last week, so I cannot see what on earth the problem is all of a sudden.”

“Jonathan, please. She’s only nine.”

Assire reaches across, gently rests her hand on her husband’s arm. He casts a quick sideways glance at her, a little irritated. He hates being distracted when he is driving.

“And nine is old enough to stay the weekend at her aunt’s.”

“I’m just saying she’s never been away from us for that long.”

“She’s stayed at Mary’s before.”

“But only for one night.”

“If she could do one night, she can do two.”

Stella groans. She hates when they talk like that, as if she wasn’t even there. But she is there, right there, elbowing her mother’s bag to the side, her little feet kicking at the seat in front of her.

“Are you going to get a divorce?!”

A sharp intake of breath from her mother. Her father’s grip on the steering wheel tightening, his eyes, blue like Stella’s, narrowing as she meets his gaze via the rear vision mirror.

“No, sweetheart, no. No way. Never.” Such conviction in her mother’s voice.

“What on earth made you think that? Is that what’s been worrying you about this weekend?”

Stella nods, half embarrassed and half elated, her eyes downcast, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt. For a fraction of a second, for half a heartbeat, Assire sees herself when she looks over her shoulder at her daughter, and it makes her breath catch in her throat.

I made you, she thinks. I made you, a whole entire person. You could be anyone, anyone you wanted and here you are, being just like me.

“Christina from Hockey says when she had to stay at her auntie’s house because her mum and dad went away when they came back they got a divorce and they fought all the time and now she has to live with her mum and her mum’s new boyfriend who is horrible and drinks beers all the time and she only gets to see her dad every other weekend. Please don’t get a divorce!”

“Stella. Stella, listen to me.” Her father’s voice is soft, soothing, his words honest and heartfelt.

“I know it’s a scary thought, and I am very sorry that your friend is having such a difficult time. It’s a lot to deal with, at your age. But I promise you, a divorce is the last thing on our mind.”

“Never. We’d never.” Assire shakes her head. “Out of all the things you could possibly have to worry about, sweetheart, us splitting up isn’t one of them.”

We’ve come so far, together.

“You can tell Christina she’s welcome to come over to our place any time. Maybe you could invite her after training on Wednesday? We could get takeaways, head over to the park if the weather is nice. What do you think?”

Stella nods.

“Okay.”

“You’ll have a good time at your aunt’s this weekend. You and Neville can play all you like, finally. You miss him, don’t you?”

Stella nods again. It’s true. She does miss him. He’s her best friend, after all. My cousin, now, she reminds herself. It’s a weird thought, but in a good way.

“But –“

But what about the ghosts, she wants to ask.

“But what, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, Mum.”

Ghosts aren’t real.

“Mum?”

“Yes, Stella?”

“I haven’t got any shoes on.”

__________

“Stella, where are your shoes?”

Aunt Mary is beautiful. Stella has always thought so. But aunt Mary is also sad, even if she doesn’t show it. Stella is good at noticing things, and Mary’s sadness has not escaped her. Stella doesn’t understand why it is there, that deep, dark sadness that follows in her wake, that clings to her, that seems to smother her smiles before they can reach her eyes.

The girl shuffles her feet, looks down at her grass-stained socks.

“I forgot them at home”, she shrugs. She can almost feel her father cringe beside her. Her mother clears her throat and picks at the tassels on her scarf.

Mary crosses her arms over her chest, shakes her head, her expression one of undisguised displeasure. Her earrings jingle softly, and Stella can’t help but be in awe of the way they catch the light, oh how they sparkle, what she wouldn’t give to wear long earrings just like those.

“Your child got into the car without her shoes on and you didn’t notice?”

Jonathan shrugs, scratches his chin, won’t meet his sister’s eyes. Assire moves a little closer to him, her hand grasping his sleeve.

Mary chuckles, uncrosses her arms. There are rings on her fingers, her nails are painted bright red, the skin of her hands pale white, perfectly smooth and even. Nothing like Stella’s mother’s hands, with their dark spots and the nails bitten down to the quick.

“Where’s Neville?”

“He’s in his room. Go on. You know the way, don’t you?”

Stella nods, smiling brightly, sets off at a run before her aunt’s voice stops her dead in her tracks.

“Your bag, Stella.”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot!”

“Mindfulness, Stella. Mindfulness.”

“Okay.”

__________

“I’m so sorry about her shoes I honestly didn’t even notice and she didn’t say anything until we were almost here and-“

“It’s fine, Assire. Don’t worry about it.”

This means nothing. Everybody who knows Assire knows that telling her not to worry is like telling a bird not to fly or a fish not to swim. Assire knows it too, but she tries to smile regardless.

“We can go back and get them and drop them off or-“

“She’s going to have to wear some of Neville’s.”

“But they won’t fit her.”

“Exactly. She’ll be a little bit uncomfortable, but she’s never going to forget her shoes again.”

“But-“

“She’s old enough to take responsibility for putting shoes on her feet, she’s old enough to deal with the consequences of neglecting to do so.”

Jonathan shrugs. “I guess you’re right.”

“You guess, dear brother? Go on, admit it. You know I’m right. No guesswork about it. Now, shouldn’t you two be off?”

“Yes, we should –“

“What about Neville?” Assire’s voice is insistent, almost demanding. “How is he doing, Mary? Is… is he okay?”

Mary sighs, gestures vaguely with a flawlessly manicured hand. “I honestly don’t know. He’s… quiet. Too quiet. Sometimes he talks to himself, in his room. I don’t think he knows I can hear him. He cries in the night. I… I don’t know what to do. Everything I say, everything I do, nothing makes a difference.”

“You have to be patient with him, Mary. He’s not… he didn’t grow up how we did. What we took for granted, Neville never had those things, probably didn’t even dare dream of them, and then the accident-“

“I know that, Jonathan.”

“Let me finish, please. Neville, he- his memory, his ability to regulate his emotions, to adapt to changing circumstances, all of that has been affected – will likely always be affected – by his head injury. You can’t expect him to adjust as, for example, Stella would. That little boy lost everything. He needs you to be patient with him, Mary.”

“His physio is going well. He doesn’t like it, I feel like I have to fight a major battle to even just get him into the car to go to his sessions, but he’s made fantastic progress. He’s getting stronger, his balance has improved so much. I just wish I could say the same for his mind.”

“That’s because minds don’t heal like the body does.” Assire’s voice is barely above a whisper, but nonetheless there’s a gravity to her words. A sense of understanding beyond the comprehension of the Reid siblings. “This –“ she gestures at the house and the street upon which it stands, the grand old mansion in all its glory. “This is a different world for him. I know a thing or two about what that feels like. Remember the first time I came here? How awkward I was? How I hardly said a word because I was struggling to even comprehend that this is how you live? That’s what it’s like for him. No, it’s worse. Because he’s only a little boy. A little boy who has been let down by the most important people in his life, the people who should have kept him safe. I don’t know much about head injuries or physiotherapy or anything else like it, but I do know what it feels like to be afraid. And most of all, what it feels like to be desperate to not want to ruin the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” She takes her husband’s hand in hers as she says it. Her heart is beating fast, maybe she shouldn’t have spoken so candidly? But it needed to be said, didn’t it? For Neville’s sake, Assire wants this to work out. For Neville’s sake, as well as for Mary’s.

“Jonathan is right, he needs your patience. You can make this work, Mary. I know you can.”

“I… why, thank you, Assire. I think.”

“Tell him we miss him. Please.”

“I will.”

__________

“Neville! Neville it’s me, Stella! Can I come in?”

She is standing on tiptoe, rapidly tapping on the door of Neville’s room, her bag slung carelessly over her shoulder.

“Neville!”

There’s no response at first, and Stella can’t help but feel ill at ease. What if the ghosts got him? But it’s still daytime, surely the ghosts aren’t even up yet. Stella checks over her shoulder, just in case. The portraits on the wall of the hallway, are they watching her? Did something move, over in the corner? Did she catch a hint of cigar smoke, the rustle of silk skirts? Stella shivers. When the door opens slightly, it is enough to send her jumping out of her skin. “Neville, you gave me a fright, I thought you were a ghost!” Stella doesn’t hesitate to wrap her little arms around her friend, almost expecting them to pass through him as if through air, endlessly relieved when he is solid as always.

“I missed you so much! Can you believe I’m gonna stay here the whole weekend? Mum and Dad are going away but it’s okay you don’t have to worry they’re not getting a divorce or anything.”

Neville’s room is dark, the heavy curtains drawn despite the fact that it is still daylight outside, the only light in the room being provided by a small brass lamp on the bedside table. A half finished lego construction sits amidst loose blocks on the floor in front of the unmade bed. Apart from that, the room is tidy, almost too tidy. As if it was half lived in, inhabited by someone who is not entirely real but not quite a ghost.

A ghost.

Stella shuffles her feet uncomfortably. She doesn’t like how dark it is in here, she doesn’t like the way the shadows in the corners seem to be solidifying, changing shape.

“Why is it so dark in here? Aren’t you scared of the ghosts?”

With a few determined steps, Stella is over at the window, pulls the curtains open. Sunlight falls into the room. There’s a big tree outside the window, but not a single bird in sight. A shame.

“They’re not like that.” Neville’s voice is small and quiet. Now that it’s light, Stella can see that his eyes are red from crying and his nose is running. He wipes it on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and Stella pulls a face. Gross.

“Who? Who’s not like what? Are you crying?”

“I’m NOT.” Neville huffs, but won’t meet Stella’s eyes, settling down on the floor next to his lego instead, his movements awkward, hesitant, more like an old man than a little boy. Stella’s Dad says that Neville has screws in his leg and hip. Stella secretly doesn’t believe him. Screws go in pieces of wood, not in people.

She sits down herself, her little legs folded up underneath her, across from Neville. The lego blocks sit in the middle between them, a no man’s land in an incidental conflict.

“Do you want this one?” Stella picks up a block, holds it out to him. Neville picks it out of her open palm without looking at her but mumbles gratitude under his breath. Stella begins to build, she doesn’t know what just yet, she doesn’t really feel like playing but he does want to be with Neville. Maybe her presence will be enough to take his sadness away, or maybe it won’t, but the very least she can do is to try.

“So… have you seen them? The ghosts I mean.”

She probably shouldn’t ask, but she simply cannot help herself. If Neville says they’re not real, then they probably aren’t. If they aren’t real, maybe she can sleep without the light on tonight, without fear of the Old Lady, the Sad Man, the Little Boy.

Neville’s eyes lift briefly from his lego, but he isn’t looking at Stella. Instead, his gaze is fixed on the corner of the room, between the window and the wardrobe. He nods briefly, stacks another set of blocks together. “Sure.”

”You have?!” Stella’s eyes grow wide and all colour seems to drain from her face. All of a sudden, she feels cold, as if an icy wind had touched the nape of her neck. Stella shivers. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Why would I be? They are nice ghosts. They don’t harm anybody. They’re just lonely. I make tea sometimes. For the Old Lady. She’s very nice, but also sad. She… she’s looking for her husband, and that’s one thing I don’t understand. Because he is here, too. I’ve seen him upstairs, in the study. He likes to look out the window. He… he coughs a lot. I didn’t think ghosts could cough, but he does. I don’t understand why she can’t see him, too. You’d think ghosts could see each other, right?”

Stella is lost for words, staring at Neville with her mouth wide open, a little thrilled but mostly terrified.

“I’ve seen them too! That’s exactly what they’re like! The Old Lady, she… she scares me. Last time I stayed the night here I woke up and she was sitting on my bed! She was watching me sleep and she felt cold and sad. She didn’t even go away when I turned the light on and when I went out in the kitchen she followed me!”

“She’s never followed me. She must like you. I mean… this is your Dad’s family’s house, after all. You’re probably related to her.”

“I don’t want to be related to a ghost! I don’t want them to be real!”

I knew they were real all along.

__________

The room is dark and silent. Stella’s pillow is slightly damp from her hair, freshly washed and plaited by her aunt. She has pulled the duvet all the way up to her face and the room should by all means be comfortably warm, but Stella can’t for the life of her stop shivering. She can’t stop thinking about the ghosts. The very much real ghosts that haunt this old house. If only she wasn’t so scared to sneak her hand out from underneath the blankets, maybe she could turn the bedside light on to keep the restless spirits at bay.

Please don’t haunt me, Stella thinks. Please don’t haunt me, please don’t hurt me, please just leave me alone, oh please!

She thinks about her parents, far away, too far to keep her safe, completely unaware of just how terrified she is, right now.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry –

It’s useless. She’s only little, little and scared and all alone in this dark room, in this big, scary house, and she can’t hold back her tears no matter how hard she tries to, and all of a sudden the Old Lady is there, right there, right next to her, so close that Stella can make out every line in her wrinkled face, every fold of her dress, every strand of her white hair.

She looks sad, sad and confused, half-real, a shadow given form. Stella wants to scream, wants to call for aunt Mary, for Neville, for Mum and Dad, someone, anyone, come and help! Please!

The Old Lady shakes her head, places her finger over her lips, then reaches out to touch Stella’s cheek. It’s not like anything she has ever felt before, that touch. Icy cold, both real and unreal at the same time.

“No! Don’t!”

Stella scrambles out of bed, bolts out the door of the guest room, down the hallway, the inlaid wooden floors cold against the soles of her bare feet.

“Neville! Neville!” She bursts through the door into his room, out of breath and half out of her mind, her fingers scrambling for the light switch.

The ceiling light flares, so bright it is almost blinding, dispersing the shadows. The curtains are half drawn, moving lazily in the breeze that blows through the open window.

Neville’s bed is empty.

feat. @starscorned thank you for enabling me bc i haven’t written anything that has flowed so effortlessly in a long time

#vignette: stella #vignette: assire #verse: modern #divorce mention tw #i mean we all know they will never split up #they are the true meaning of til death do us part #but that fear to stella is very real #tagging it just in case #also poor ghost!emelyne #she just wants to love and soothe and comfort her granddaughter #i have a lot of feelings about this AU ok #also the reid family dynamic and story #is just so fucking flawless it fits so well into modern verse even without the supernatural aspects from their canon #me pointing at every single character in this verse whether active muse or npc: T H E Y #also i thought i better put a read more bc this came out at over 3k words #i wish i could do my portfolio that fast

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barry-j-blupjeans · 2 years

Note

can u recommend some good blupjeans centric fics? i consider u a blupjeans expert so i trust u

1) thank u, being regarded as a blupjeans expert is literally the highest compliment i can get

2) i can absoLUTELY rec some blups-centric fics hell yes. i won't be tagging the authors mainly bc i don't know all their tumblrs (or if they all have tumblrs) but im pretty sure most of them mention their @ somewhere in the notes of the story if they do have an account.

ghosting, and a lack thereof by anistarrose - A lup lives and is voidfished AU!! she keeps getting presents from a person who only labels themself as "B". this one is vv cute and warm and altogether so good. it's 50 years of slowburn blups smushed together in a much shorter time frame with much more confusion about what the hell is happening sldfsd. it's vv good!! highly recommend!!

Til Death Do Us Part by Mmmarty - there cannot be a more clear-cut summary than what was put already: "Certainly after saving the whole of the known universe, these fools can pull off a wedding, right?" it's vv sweet and exactly the type of wedding i can imagine them having. everyone and everything is a mess but it's so, so good and worth it. this fic is truly an amazing experience!!

Attend Me Here, also by Mmmarty - so goddamn good and nice. barry and lup FINALLY confess to each other and talk about being in love and they're so nice and good and aaaaaa i love this fic. tbh, i highly recommend every blups fic by Mmmarty but if i did that, the whole list would just be them sldfksd.

The Only One On Your A.M. Radio by Grabbingatpowerandkissingit - barry and lucas run a late-night radio talk show and they get a caller who absolutely decks them with magic science. lucas is upset. barry is in love. u can imagine the type of incredible shenanigans that go on in this fic. i WISH i could describe how good it is, but i simply cannot, so u will have to read it for urself!!!

Crush by julidoesnotwrite (notjuli) - this one is so sweet it gave me cavities ngl !! barry and lup are both vv sick and also vv in love. perfect rendition of "we have been married 50 years and i still have a crush on you". it makes me smile so wide every time i read it. cannot!! recommend this one!! enough!!! it's so sweet!!!

Break This Heavy Chain by Punka_Writes - this takes place in the immediate aftermath of story and song. barry is alive and full of many, many emotions, most of them related to his wife. it's just!!! them interacting and loving each other and loving their family after so long, it's so good!!!

I'd Sooner Set Myself on Fire by TooOceanBlue - lup may be a warlock patron and super powerful lich, but she told her family she was bringing a date to dinner and now she can't get out of it. hopefully, they won't be able to tell the difference between "boyfriend" and "loyal warlock". this one is a goddamn work of ART!!! i think about it too much still. so many twists and turns!!! so good!!!

Falling for U by MoonlightxStars - gonna be honest, it's been a hot minute since I've read this one, but i vividly remember being on the edge of my seat for any chapter updates. it's about lup and barry growing up together and slowly falling in love. this will break ur heart and then glue it back together and then repeat that process like, five other times. it's so good and i will put it on my read later list again bc i need that experience once more

When We Run Away by Voidfish - barry and lup in the middle of stolen century and then after it, w the same prompt each time: "run away with me". this one is bittersweet and happy all at the same time. it's vv much captures the "we're in love but we have so much work to do for everyone else" vibe of the stolen century. highly recommend it to literally everyone, it makes me wanna cry sometimes aaaa

what a concrete mess we live in by goinghost - basic summary? lup texts the wrong number and talks with barry instead of taako. it's sweet, it's funny, it's a mess, it is exactly the right blupjeans vibe. i can't overstate how good this one is, i love it to bits and pieces!!! i wanna print out this fic and eat it, it's so good

i hope this helps!!! im sure there's plenty more out there but this is what i could find in my bookmarks that's solely blupjeans-centric :O!!

#i am speaking #blupjeans #asks #anon #this is in my queue for the morning; hewwo morning ppl #ise cube answers

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violettduchess · 2 years

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This is a little out of the box but I'd like to request a sexy yoga/ stretching AU with Leon that ends with the implication of sex (since you don't write smut 😚)

A/N: This is a modern AU where Leon is, as anon requested, a yoga instructor. It may start out more like a crack fic but I had to somehow establish how/why he is what he is. Enjoy, anon!!

Fluff/Spice and cruise ships!

Word count: 1326

It was dark out on the deck of The Sea Rose. And cold. The massive cruise ship cut silently through the dark ocean waters, a behemoth illuminated by the wan light of a crescent moon. The outer lights, spaced evenly along each deck, dotted the sides of the ship like the bioluminescent dots of an alien deep sea creature.

Leon had said he wanted to clear his head, work some things out before coming to bed. Your honeymoon should be a joyous occasion. You had been looking forward to it almost more than the wedding, but the tension with his brothers over the fate of the Rhodolite Wellness Center weighed heavily on his mind. The Obsidian Corporation was looking to buy out the complex that Leon and his brothers had been running together. Jin, the personal trainer. Yves, in charge of the spa. Nokto the masseuse. Chevalier who was never there but ran the accounts. Rio, always chipper at the front desk. They were all suffering. Legal issues and red tape were tightening themselves around the boys like serpents, squeezing the will to fight out of them, exhausting them. All thanks to the head of Obsidian Corp., that snake charmer, Mr. Gilbert. The man in the expensive black suit and eyepatch had made it his life’s mission to destroy them, at any cost and it was wreaking havoc on Leon and his peace of mind.

You didn’t know exactly what he meant with “clear his head” until you rounded the corner and found him. Despite the chill, he was shirtless, in only his favorite black sweatpants, feet bare. Your gaze was immediately drawn to his wedding band, a tiny golden beacon that seemed to shine far brighter than the ship’s lighting should allow. Seeing it flooded your heart with warmth. You had really done it. Even though it was only a few days ago, the whole wedding already felt like a remembered dream, blurred images and feelings, a watercolor across your mind, soft and beautiful. Something you know you will spend a long time reflecting on, little details emerging from the fog each time you do.

You watched as he moved through the motions of different poses, transitioning from one to another fluidly, a water dancer in a warrior’s body. Starlight painted his skin, fighting with the artificial lights of the boat over just who could highlight his body better. You could see the flex of every muscle, every line of definition as he moved slowly, a paragon of control, unaware of you. You felt that warmth in your heart overflow, splash over the brim and gather in your stomach. He was beautiful. And he was your husband. Til death do you part.

Stepping out from the shadow, you cleared your throat, a smile crossing your lips when he paused, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

“Hello wife”, he said with that open, sweet smile you loved so much.

“Hello husband.” Was using those words corny as hell? Yes. Did you care? Not one bit. “That looked great.” You came up next to him, a hand on the cold metal railing. Below, the water was lapping gently at the side of the ship, dark waves topped with pale crests of moonlight.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, eternally untameable by any brush or comb that dared try. Not even Jin’s extra strength hair gel stood a chance against the Dompteur coif. “I needed to gather my thoughts.” He looked at you, his expression softening with affection. You entered his life and love came along with you, braiding the strings of your hearts together with threads of happiness and loyalty and peace. He cleared his throat. “Want me to take you through a few transitions?”

You flashed him a smile. He was a phenomenal teacher and it always felt like a privilege to get one-on-one instruction from the center’s most popular yoga instructor.

“Sure,” you said, reaching up to tighten your ponytail.

He smiled, golden eyes bright with pride and excitement, as he reached out, helping you into the first position. It was simply standing, reaching your arms above your head and touching your palms. Mountain pose.

“Stretch up as tall as you can,” he said, voice low. His hands ran up your arms, supposedly to make sure they were straight enough. You felt something at a low heat start fanning out inside as his fingers danced along the inside of your elbow and forearms.

“That’s it,” he murmured before walking behind you. One large hand held your wrists lightly, the other wrapped around you, pressing itself against your stomach. The heat inside burned brighter. There was a tangible shift in the air, in the way his hands touched you. This was no longer instructive but something else, something incendiary.

“Breathe." He spoke softly, his voice right by your ear.

You felt your heart beginning to race, as if it could escape the incalescence rising inside you. Stretching was supposed to be relaxing and right now….you were feeling anything but. Your breath shook as you tried to draw it into your lungs.

“Good, very good,” he practically purred. You were burning now, white hot.

He reached out again to adjust you, taking your arms in his hands and moving them until they were stretched out wide. “And now the hips.” His voice was smooth as whiskey, tempting as sin, meandrous in the way it wrapped around you. His hands held onto your hips, pivoting you until one leg was stretched out. He moved his other hand to your thigh, fingers deft and sure, pressing until you bent under his touch. Your muscles trembled.

“How’m I doing?” you asked through a throat as arid as the desert. He walked around to look at you from the front. It was his eyes that held you captive. There was no mistaking the gleam in them. Something bright and eager. Your blood felt white hot as it roared through your veins.

“Perfect,” he said as he stepped forward. You expected him to pull you toward him, to kiss you in that way he had, a lion taking his fill of his prize.

He didn’t. Instead he reached forward, pulling you out of warrior pose to place both your hands on the ship's metal railing, the cold a sharp and jarring contrast to your heated skin. Your gaze was met with an endless expanse of dark water, melding into a night sky, bedecked in glowing stars.

“Leon?” What was he thinking? Why hadn't he kissed you?

Then you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against the hard planes of his body. His lips on the nape of your neck sent sparks cascading in a rush through you, a waterfall of embers.

“You just hold on,” he breathed against your skin. His hand was lazily making its way down your spine, a mathematician fingering an abacus, the other holding onto your waist, steadying you.

“Leon," you gasped, turning your head only to have him gently push it back. He wanted your eyes on the water and the sky, on something uralt and primal, matching the need he's fed in you, a firestorm of anticipation and want.

“We’re out in the open…” Your words were weak, mere smoke, no substance to them at all. You couldn't stop this even if you wanted to. And you didn't want to.

He knew. You could feel his leonine grin against the side of your neck, his teeth scraping your skin lightly. “Everyone else is in bed, sweet wife. Nothing here but the ocean and sky…."

He kissed you even as his hands ran down your sides, trailing fire in their wake. At your hips, his fingers slid into the waistband of your pants.

"Now", he whispered in your ear, sweet and smoldering, "Hold on tight to that railing and don’t turn around. No matter what I do.”

@aquagirl1978 @atelier-maroron @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @redheadkittys

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince leon #ikepri leon #leon dompteur #ikemen au #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #violettwrites

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

Text

try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Now

Summary: Tobirama’s secret disquisition is taking a toll on him. More of a comfort chapter.

Word count: ~3k

available on AO3.

Tobirama massages the bridge of his nose as the words on the paper in front of him starts to blur into incoherent sentences. Tremors plague his hands too often now, and his chest often feels tight. He knows these are signs that he is very fatigued and that he lacks sleep–these days, he has simply stopped sleeping altogether. The energy that he rides on is the hope that he can finish his secret disquisition, so that finally he can rest. He just needs to do this one last thing.

The events of the year had spurred him on to throw himself on his Edo Tensei . He feels that this is the only way he can cope and handle his troubles in the near future. Especially if his theory about his brother is true: that he is dying everyday he lives.

He is almost never wrong.

He needs a backup plan. A safeguard, among his other collections of safeguards. Someone like him can never have too many.

And he believes that the answers lie in his creation.

Tobirama sighs and he presses his palms into his eyes. Maybe he really needs sleep.

The office doors open after a knock, and he looks up to find his brother. He cannot help but notice that Hashirama’s hair is silky and that his face is smooth, free of the blemishes of a wrinkle. There are no spots on his skin, and in fact, his skin seems to glow with youth.

“Elder brother,” Tobirama greets him, with utmost respect.

Hashirama’s face softens towards him. The glaze in his eyes from the other night is gone. He looks more alert. “You called for me?”

Tobirama tries to hide the way his hands seem to shake and fishes for the papers that he wants his brother to see. He takes his time, in the guise of searching for it, even though he is organized enough to know where each document is.

“I…” Tobirama begins, taking his time to form his words. “First, I have told you that this is not a good idea. Despite my best efforts to persuade you, I know you are also quite stubborn. So here. The approval to begin the construction of your precious statues. It commences next month.”

Hashirama’s eyes widened in surprise. “Brother, I don’t know what to say.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes, but much to his chagrin, he gives his last sibling a genuine smile. “Don’t flatter yourself. My wife put me up to this.”

Hashirama laughs, and Tobirama is glad that it sounds carefree. His eyes form into beautiful crescents, and Tobirama softens. There is his cheerful brother.

“Give my thanks to her,” Hashirama says. “She is the best of us.”

Tobirama nods, and he clutches his hands under the desk. He will always agree to that, because as compared to him, her flaws pale in comparison.

Hashirama pauses before turning towards the door. “And come visit your eldest nephew and his wife soon. We have heard that they will have a girl in about a month.” Hashirama chuckles giddily. “I will be a grandfather!”

Tobirama stops breathing, but thankfully, Hashirama has left before he can break down any further.

He closes his eyes, and suddenly, he is taken back to a more peaceful morning, as he prepares to travel to Kumogakure. That day will never be erased from his mind, not when he could have connected the pieces that were falling into place that almost cost her life. If he wasn’t so busy, if he just prioritized her a little bit more and only trusted himself to look after her, then maybe he could have been there on time. As the Hokage, it is his job to keep the village safe, but what kind of husband does that make him? When, once again, he has chosen the village over her.

Tobirama remembers her giddy smile, and the warm sensation spreading across his chest as she whispers to him a secret.

“ I think it’s a girl ,” she says, unable to control the wide grin spreading across her lips.

Tobirama feels his heart break further. He hates to see his wife reduced to tears, because those are few and far in between. She is strong, and has always known a clear line between right and wrong. Now, it is almost like she is becoming like him.

He was very relieved to hear that she could not ever go through with killing Kimiko, but if he wasn’t there to stop her on time, who knows what could have happened.

Tobirama does not cry, but if he is going to, this will be the moment he will choose to weep.

He feels as if there is nothing he can do, and there is no tangible way to come through on one end in one piece. The gods may just be out there to spite him.

Everything is falling apart. He can build kingdoms and construct beautiful castles. He can take dreams and make them into a reality, but they all mean nothing if the people that he centered his life around cannot be with him.

Being alone has never been a worry for him. Solitude has been his preference for a while now, but being truly alone, and losing those he gave his all for, he would rather lose a limb than bear that kind of loneliness. After all he is human, and not a god. As much as he plays that part.

He finally goes home, having lost his time once again over his endeavours. He trudges up the stairs quietly, and into the bathroom to try and wash up. He feels dirty. There is dried blood caked under his short nails, and he smells like chemicals, ink and death. He carefully peels his shirt over his head, and he stares at his reflection for a moment.

He is beginning to resemble the corpses that he hangs out with.

He leans over the sink and runs the water. He opts for using the faucet instead of the bathtub, afraid to make loud noises that will wake you.

“Tobirama?”

Your husband whirls around, and you give him a once-over. He is trembling a little. You note how messy his hair is–messier than normal–and how his eyes are stark bright like fresh blood, and how his face is becoming knife-like from the days he spends forgoing proper nutrition. Your eyes go to his cheek, where there is a smudge of dirt on it. It almost looks like dried blood, and it makes you swallow your words.

You are unsure what to say next, because you have a gut feeling that you should not get closer to Tobirama. He is different from the man you last saw this morning, who was calm and collected. The man before you looks like a stray animal ready to bite the hand that tries to pet them.

Tobirama tries to get a hold of himself, but his mind and his senses betray him. He feels overwhelmed.

"You should be asleep," he mumbles under his breath.

"I have been sleeping all day," you reply softly, not wanting to alarm him any further.

"Please," Tobirama says. He does not want you to see him like this. You make him feel weak. "Go to bed."

You ignore the slight hurt that you feel from being dismissed, but this is Tobirama. You have learned how to look beyond what he is saying outrightly. You can sense how freaked out he is.

"What happened?" You ask in a low, urgent tone.

Tobirama turns away and he takes a few deep breaths. He feels like he is about to retch. "Nothing."

He hears you step closer cautiously, and Tobirama tenses. If you touch him, he will melt and he will let go of any inhibitions he has left. If you touch him, he will want more. If you do, he may also react in a way that may hurt you as he could not bare any human contact on his skin at the moment. Just the thought of it makes his stomach curl.

"Go to bed," Tobirama repeats and he fills his cupped hands with water. He slaps the water onto his face, but when he opens his eyes, he finds that you are still there.

"Tobi," you whisper.

Water drips from his face and he turns off the faucet. He is not sure what to do next. The two of you have your own brands of stubbornness.

The sound of your voice saying his name seems to ground him, and this prompts you to get closer.

Tobirama takes the nearest towel to dab his face dry, and when he finishes, you take the towel from him and put it on the pile of used towels.

"My love," you murmur softly. "Let’s get you dressed for bed."

Tobirama takes a deep breath, and he turns to you. You wait for him to come to you instead of taking his hand to pull him forward, and from there, you follow him back into your room. Tobirama dresses in silence, and you stand there, your hands opening and closing, trying to figure out what to do next.

You are not a stranger to his changing moods, but sometimes they come unexpectedly, and they are not always the same. You know that he has stopped sleeping, and opts to skip meals to attend to whatever it is he’s busying himself with. His silhouette in the darkness is noticeably thinner, and while you are waiting for him to make you understand what he is doing or to let you know what else is bothering him, you are becoming more concerned.

You hate to see him like this.

“Tobirama,” you utter his name, and slowly, you step closer into his space. You see how tense he is, so you make your movements slow and non-urgent. “It’s okay.”

You watch him run his fingers through his hair and let out a shaky breath.

“It’s okay,” you repeat. You try to control the tears that are coming.

The shadows of the dark room seem to engulf him, but you will never abandon him and leave him to fend for himself.

"I'm coming closer," you tell him, and slowly, you slide your arms around his waist from behind.

You can feel him stiffen, but it does not discourage you. You press your chest on his back and you rest your head in between his shoulder blades, and you hold him. It takes a long time, but finally, his body melts into yours and he gives into your warmth.

Tobirama lets himself rest in your embrace, and he reminds himself that you are alive, that you are breathing, and your skin has color, not like the ashen gray that dead bodies have. You are warm and supple, not cold and monumental.

He is so tired, but there is no such thing as rest for people like him. People like him rest in the battlefield, and it is both their bed and their grave.

Tobirama rests his arms on yours and he holds your arms. For a moment, you make him still. For a moment, the world falls away, and the races in his mind make its pause. He is not one to ask for much, let alone look for comfort, but for now, he lets himself be held.

After ushering him to bed, Tobirama is silent.

You sense that whatever thoughts that are swirling in his mind have settled like dust. He is not trembling anymore, and the natural paleness of his skin has returned, not like the pale green hue that he seems to embody earlier. The two of you face each other, hands entwined on your pillows. Sleep is a faraway thought, but you are glad to have him like this.

Tobirama watches you intently as you press a kiss on his knuckles, and then rest his hand under your cheek.

“I love you,” Tobirama murmurs. He rarely says this, but it always rings true. He feels ashamed for saying this to you after hiding so many secrets, but he never lies about what he feels towards you. Those three words taste gritty on his tongue, but he thinks you must know. Just in case your perception of him changes.

He doesn't deserve you, and inside, his heart clashes on trying to be worthy of your love and trying to be the leader this village needs. He is always sure of his ways, but when he sees you teetering between black and white, he questions his path because he sees a part of himself in you.

Perhaps, you do the same.

“You have to rest,” you tell him. “Send a shadow clone. Or give yourself a full day-off. For your sake.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” he tells you bluntly. “I must remain steadfast.”

“Can you really do this for long?”

“I have to,” Tobirama says. “There is no other way.”

Your eyes swim, and the pace of your heart starts to pick up. Those words scare you.

Your Senju husband will fail , Madara once said in your dreams. He will do everything right and what he is supposed to do, but in the grand scheme of things, he is nothing.

You close your eyes, feeling dread creep under your skin.

“You know I am right,” Tobirama continues.

“No.” You bite your lip. “Sometimes your right does not mean it is right.”

“I know,” Tobirama says and his eyes refuse to meet yours.

A tear escapes your eye, but Tobirama is quick to wipe it away with his free hand.

“Do not cry for me,” Tobirama says.

“How can you say that?” You say with disbelief. “I have the right to cry for you.”

Tobirama sighs, and rests his palm on your cheek. The two of you begin a staring contest, but you win when Tobirama finally looks away.

“We’re becoming ridiculous, aren’t we?”

“Quite,” Tobirama yawns.

“You still have me.” You lean towards him.

Tobirama pulls you closer, and he holds you to his chest. You close your eyes as you feel his heart underneath your ear. He still holds you as strongly and certainly.

“I will take your suggestion tomorrow,” Tobirama finally says. “One thing at a time, right?”

“Good enough for me,” you murmur into his chest and you press a kiss on it.

“All right,” Tobirama mutters, and his arms tighten around you.

To be continued...

Chapter 7 - Then >>

#angelica writes #tobirama x you #naruto #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #senju tobirama x you #senju tobirama x reader #naruto fanfiction #'til death do us part #you never said goodbye timeline/au

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rosebug-aus · 4 years

Photo

A shameless IWtV scene redraw, because of course.

#art #vamp dan #victorian vamp #til death do us part au #polygrumps #shipgrumps #ninja ship party #polybomb

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theguildawards · 2 years

Text

The Nomination Period for the 1st Term 2022 Fairy Tail Fandom Awards is now CLOSED!!

Hey everyone!

Below the cut you will find a complete list of all the nominations received for The Guild Awards this term!

If you do not see your nomination, or you find issues with the links, please reach out to us as soon as possible!

We are going to give you 2 weeks time to enjoy all of the pieces nominated for this term! We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a review to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!

The voting period will begin March 15th and end March 29th midnight PST!

In order to be able to vote, you will need to login. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.

Got a question? Check out our FAQ or send us an ask!

Message one of the mods directly: @sassybratt9791 @phoenix-before-the-flame @rougescribe @ratretro @phoneboxfairy

Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this term absolutely wonderful, and happy voting!

[please reblog to help spread the love of these amazing creators!!]

FANFICTION

Best Action/Adventure

“An Infernal Heart“ by @aki-natsuko ”The Runaway and The Rebel“ by Silken Ink (FFN) “Song of a Dragonborn“ by Psilocybinlemon (AO3) “Redemption“ by @somanyfamdomswhy

Best AU/AR

“Charming, Brilliant and Cruel“ by @jemmahazelnut ”Port, Whiskey and Moonshine“ by @eryiss ”forged in fire“ by @animateddragon / DragonsAndCryptids (AO3) ”Til Death Do Us Part“ by @superfreakerz ”highway to hell“ by splendidlyimperfect (FFN) ”Passive Aggressive Post-Its“ by quite-a-riot (FFN) ”Of Dust and Shadows“ by @riverofmemoriesft ”The Salamander“ by ScarletWebWarrior06 (FFN)

Best Canon

“Broken“ by sktrgrl13 (AO3) ”Unsettling Fire“ by @nat-sul-ucy / loyallaraluv (FFN) ”Findings and Leavings“ by Tchu-chan (AO3) ”My Brother’s Not Normally a Psychopath, Promise!“ by @song-of-fairies / PadawanMaxineKenobi

Best Angst

”Even the Dragon King Has Feelings“ by Don_Cheadle (AO3) ”What Price Humanity?“ by @aki-natsuko ”Plan B“ by @lodemai04 ”Capturing Her Damaged Heart“ by @mushi9

Best Dark

”What I Want?“ by @lunayuki / @yukimcffblog / YukiMC (FFN) ”Flame’s Desire“ by @rougescribe ”Beauty the Beast“ by @ravenstyx / Freyjabee (AO3) ”What You’d Do To Me Tonight“ by @doginshoe ”Capturing Her Damaged Heart“ by @mushi9

Best Drama

”Just Friends?“ by BlackRose999 (FFN) ”What I Want?“ by @lunayuki / @yukimcffblog / YukiMC (FFN) ”If we get caught, I’m blaming you“ by @rougescribe

Best Humor/Parody

”Greedy Dragon“ by @moeruhoshi ”Just Add Fire“ by @sassybratt9791 ”Clothes“ by Khionne (FFN) ”Language Barrier“ by @mdelpin

Best NSFW

”Fighting Dirty“ by xXHellfireRavenXx (FFN) “If I Have To Stop Working…“ by @eryiss ”Feel The Beat Of My Heart As The Count Down Starts“ by sandwitchstories (AO3)

Best Oneshot

”All My Love Comes Down to You“ by @watcher-ofthe-sky ”Of jealousy and (weird) friendships“ by HappyVoidHarmony (AO3) ”If we get caught, I’m blaming you“ by @rougescribe ”The Girl In Blue“ by smilingsky (FFN) ”You’re My Best Friend“ by Simana (AO3)

Best Character Portrayal

“Find the Spark” (Natsu Dragneel) by icewhisper (AO3) “The Iron Bars of Restraint“ (Natsu Dragneel) by Twilight Embers (FFN) ”Dark Ecriture“ (Freed Justine) by @jemmahazelnut ”Rebecca Arcana“ (Cana Alberona) by Onlyafraidoffear (AO3)

Best Romance

”Found You“ by NovaRising (FFN) ”sanctuary“ by @thetr1ckster ”How To Seduce a Lady“ by @dailylifeofafangirl / Aky-san (FFN) ”Jealousy“ by LettersForLyria (AO3) ”Forget“ by @sweetmemories2606 / Sweetmemories1998 (FFN) ”Unsettling Fire“ by @nat-sul-ucy / loyallaraluv (FFN)

Best LGBTQ+ Romance

”mira darling“ by @animateddragon / DragonsAndCryptids (AO3) ”Happy anniversary“ by @gaymirajane / icemakestars (AO3) ”from the dark, into the light“ by @aranarumei / valdera (AO3)

Best Comprehensive

”Son of a Dragon“ by @letoasai

Best Serial

”Awkward Situations“ by Azzissax (AO3) ”Rebecca Arcana“ by Onlyafraidoffear (AO3)

Best Ficlet

”Bath“ by chickenyuujirou (AO3) ”Fits Like A Glove“ by ChildofBooks (FFN) ”Precious Child“ by @nat-sul-ucy / loyallaraluv (FFN) ”Curse“ by @mdelpin ”FairyBook: Potato Potatoe“ by smilingsky (FFN) ”The Basics“ by @nalufever / DancesWithSeatbelts (AO3/FFN) ”marigolds“ by @nxbuas / titaniaeli (AO3)

Best Completed

”Of Dust and Shadows“ by @riverofmemoriesft ”Dawn of Adventure“ by @heartofroses112 ”The Fourth Master“ by AshWinterGray (AO3)

FANART

Best Action/Adventure

”Hyperfixation“ by @selfawarecobalt ”Ignite“ by @flamedork

Best AU/AR

”Happy Jerza Day“ by @hac-ai-nhi25 ”NaLi x Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne AU“ by @handsome-kakigori ”Oh, will wonders ever cease? Blessed be the mystery of love“ by @dags-sz ”medieval au“ by @kat-ran

Best Canon

“Lucy Heartfilia“ by @tomiokasensei ”Holy White Sting Eucliffe“ by @celestialrayna ”Team Natsu: Causing Problems Since x784“ by @lordichamo ”Hey, you two brats“ by @celestialrayna ”zzz“ by @avenora

Best Angst

”Untitled“ by @ksanname ”Wish You Were Here“ by @jmoart214 ”To Stay By Your Side“ by rellanokid (IG) ”Part 1: NALU“ by astral_fairy_ (IG) ”Fraxus Week Day 4: Savage“ by @artd-nsfw

Best Dark

”Toss a coin to your witcher“ by @heartonxions “Untitled“ by @ltm3009 ”it seems unforgiving when a good thing ends“ by @freedjustine

Best Humor/Parody

”Underrated Duo” by @frogrockband “Brothers - Fight me NOW“ by @windmaedchen-fairytail ”That Fire Guy from Phandom Lord“ by @phoenix-before-the-flame ”The Real Natsu“ by @mossygreensdoodles ”What other explanation is there?“ by @mipgod ”he will be a good dad“ by @izaa-machado

Best Kiss

”Winter Wonderland“ by @lissyart ”Sinfully Nalu“ by @onecoloredlily ”Untitled“ by @heartonxions ”after battle kiss“ by @zelkams-art ”Valentine“ by @crowind1

Best Romance

”Nalu Day“ by @cogamori ”Untitled“ by @frogrockband ”love-love-love“ by @alicechan61 ”aggie gruvia doodle“ by @goodnightlover ”Happy Gajevy Day“ by @acnologias-ass ”Happy Valentine’s Day“ by @endgaims ”birthday present“ by @annluvazzel

Best LGBTQ+ Romance

”Courageous/Flirtatious“ by @imhereforerzajane ”We’re not meant to be perfect. We’re meant to be whole“ by @x-thekid ”Right from the start I knew I’d found a home for my heart“ by @watcher-ofthe-sky ”Metal Toxins Dragon’s Mercury Strike“ by @dacadaca

Best NSFW

”I was thirsty“ by @oryu404 ”Mirajane x Erza“ by @artd-nsfw ”Sinfully Nalu 2020, Day 4: Wedding / Wedding Night“ by @krystledraws ”Freed Day (17.11.2020)“ by @annluvazzel

Best Character

“Self-proclaimed leader“ by @breadlesticks ”Freed the Dark“ by @cygnus-arts ”Fairy Glitter“ by @callisto-lune ”Lucy Leo x Virgo Stardress“ by @jmoart214 ”power of a dragon“ by @flamedork ”capricorn star dress“ by @luminosityspecter ”Nostalgic Natsu“ by @daiziesssart ”Ultear the Witch“ by @theseventhstar / Altairiis (TW) “Wendy Commission" by @adricarra-art

Best Duo/Pairing

”Untitled“ by @nocterre ”Natsu loves teasing Lucy“ by @onecoloredlily “Untitled“ by @shiyonatsuki ”Erza and Freed sometimes train together“ by @amlaich ”he will be a good dad“ by @izaa-machado

Best Group Depiction

”100YQ Celebration“ by @fairylynnarts ”Fairy Pirates - Crew of the Lightning Gods“ by @atomicpopcornart

Best Manga Coloring

”For the first time… I was terrified at the sight of Natsu’s fire" by @luacridcy “Untitled“ by @myuleen ”Wendy“ by @edensania

Best Redraw

”Untitled“ by @dessins-claudine ”my fav brotp“ by @acnologias-ass ”Untitled“ by @kudobean ”Bickslow and the Babies, my beloveds“ by @pencilofawesomeness ”Raijinshuu + Laxus“ by @sheltered-uno

Best Overall

”Dragon Force“ by @pencilofawesomeness ”Untitled“ by nco726 (IG) ”Slayers Week Header“ by @phoenix-before-the-flame ”Kiss Me“ by @oryu404

#fairy tail #theguildawards #ft awards #tgat12022

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