#and i love drawing mizuki so much :') i love the way their hair is... AND I LOVE PINK..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ihokshop · 3 months

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fandom: project sekai tags: backlit lens flare!wxs; cyberpunk au; first meetings

vocaloid syndicate is recruiting.

the hologram appears for a second before it flickers out. rui frowns, he taps his earring, which returns with a low beep. he surmises as much: it was an unauthorized broadcast; he needs to fix the security on his devices; and he has no way to reply.

he puts it out of his mind before returning to the present. mizuki was holding onto a flash drive, looking determined. he had said that the rest of the group could come inside, but mizuki made it clear that it was a quick visit. he didn't blame them. with their group's big debut coming up, they couldn't risk exposing their identities too early.

it seems like they hadn't noticed the announcement, if it was even visible to them at all. he considers this.

"rui," mizuki reminds him.

"sorry. same time?"

"you know it."

he nods. just before they leave, he ruffles mizuki's hair. they fluster, annoyed, saying that it took them the whole morning to actually get it looking manageable today, which rui calls bullshit since their hair never looks out of place.

they manage to swat rui's hands away and leaves after an extended moment of making faces at him. he laughs, and returns to his tinkering.

the shop is silent save for the din of the outside. shibuya's streets are a loving clamorous symphony accompanying the way he assembles his machinery. he lets himself get lost in it.

creating something wasn't so much of a struggle in the assembly. he had a harder time thinking of how, exactly, to do it. most of the time he was struck the moment he saw its need, but when he was bored, he would fall into dips and slumps. of course, this is where music came in.

his penchant for music isn't known to most. he had been anonymous for most of the time he was active, and only nene really knew about the shit he got up to because he couldnt help but ask her to listen just in case something sounded wrong.

it's a mystery why VSyn wanted him in. he heard rumors of course — the collective who only looked for the best. literal legends were made from their ranks. recruitment was limited to a small pool the few times they decided to open their doors. that aside, nothing was known much about them, not even their selection process.

whether the announcement was real or not was not an issue. once doors opened, they found you or you find them. even if he was to disregard it, they'd find a way.

the tinny bell at the door is not enough to draw his attention away from his work, but a wry, "you look busy," gets him to say back, "aren't you in need of a break?"

nene doesn't say anything. he hums, waiting.

as usual, she breaks first, swinging herself onto the only chair reserved for customers. he looks up at her. she looks quite despondent before reaching into her bag to pull out her handheld.

"you messed with the thumbs too much again?" he takes it from her hands, looking at it. indeed, it was a little loose. "i could make a few more improvements-"

"who knows what you'll do with those improvements," she replies. "just help me, please."

"alright, alright."

she wasn't much for conversation, usually, but after a moment, she adds, "i saw emu, earlier."

"did you, now?" rui lets the silence build. nene knows he won't give this time, and she lets him.

"she said she really, truly wanted you and her brothers to get along."

he winces. emu and her good intentions. but her brothers have been more persistent about him and his tech, and he really doesn't want to let them know more about him than he's willing. it had been months since he accidentally slipped and talked about phoenix's vulnerable security within their earshot, and emu gotten even closer to what he had once buried.

"can't you?" nene insists, meaning more than just emu's brothers.

he could. he really could, but what was the point? hardly anyone looks up these days. their attention was caught like a rat on their devices and holos. he could hardly cross the street without someone accidentally bumping into him because they were fixated on their screens. plus, it had been a long time since his bots had last seen the light, and he had been tempted to take them apart for parts.

"maybe," he settles. "that's up to our star, isn't it?"

she scoffs. he could picture her swinging her feet. "right, our wonderful star, still stuck on his piano?"

"nene," he chides gently. he doesn't say anything more. he has nothing to say in defense. she doesn't look convinced, but refrains from saying anything else.

after a moment, he says, "i know you're worried—"

"we're all worried," she snaps. her mouth was set in a grim line. "i saw him with hoshino the other day, and all he could do was rave about his stupid virality."

ah, not good. emu was the one who suggested the performance, but nene was the one who cajoled tsukasa into actually performing. rui was the one who set up the whole thing, blinded by the need to make his actors shine in every circumstance.

(in that sense, isn't that what a director was supposed to do anyway?)

in any case, it was still a sore spot for all of them, especially with how tsukasa had been dissatisfied with their group performances, and had stopped showing up to practice. he hadn't been able to make a dent in tsukasa either. his eyes were starry, but dimmer. rui had told him to stop by the shop if ever he needs help, and he's yet to drop by.

it's been two months.

rui changes the subject before his thoughts get too carried away.

"did you know vSyn is recruiting?" it's too obvious, but nene is always easily distracted by talk of it.

nene startles upright. before she says anything, he puts her handheld before her. she tests the joysticks, listening to the clicks in satisfaction before putting it back in her bag. she then takes out a stick of gum and hands it to rui. he takes one.

making a face at the strong grapefruit flavoring, he says, "unusual."

"you lack taste."

"your taste is quite unique."

she glares at him. she's not quite looking at him, though. he follows her gaze and lands on a small blocky tulip made of yellow lego. it looks horrible and garishly bright. he tries to ignore the itch in his ears and chucks a pair of extremely pink cat paw thumb grips at her. she catches it with a bit of fumbling, and when she realizes what it is, flushes red.

"… i won't say anything if you don't."

"a fair trade."

#*fic #prsk #cyberpunk au #like everyone cyberpunk dead boy has a chokehold on my imagination at the moment #i may or may not complete/fix this who knows!#the implied ships here are... well... if u can guess u guessed #tho im a lot more biased to the polyships meself

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surreal-duck · 4 years

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SHINING LINE* is such a pretty song

#aikatsu!#aikatsu #akari oozora #ichigo hoshimiya #mizuki kanzaki #finished s2 and halfway through s3 i love all of them #MIZUKI WHY IS YOUR HAIR SO PAINFUL TO DRAW...........#i like how ichigo came out the most!! she's v bouncy and her hair's just as much #that one line in the song 'thank you for always leading my way' hits HARD #aikatsu isnt what im mostly known for but jddjfjdf current mood is idol brainrot #time to disappear for a while again #duck scribbles

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celamoon · 3 years

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Warnings: Beheading, love at first sight

Pronouns: She/her

Summary: The royal life is full of tricks, strings and flaws from ages ago, but there are still some strings that even the highest of nobles can't reach. Emperor Kusuo and Princess Y/n knew that better than anyone.

Saiki Kusuo was what many people would define as, a textbook king. He was prim, proper, and he didn’t talk to his subjects much, only listening to the messenger’s reports on what the people wanted. He was an emperor, but he felt much more like a king than anything else.

It wasn’t like Kusuo particularly wanted to be a textbook king, it was just that rumours go around quickly in the nobility and then to the commonfolk. He wasn’t allowed to leave the castle since he had psychic powers, and it was thanks to the same psychic powers that he had accidentally destroyed another empire in battle.

But it was also thanks to the same psychic powers that the actual heir to the throne ran away to start his own empire. His older brother swore that he would ‘out-king Kusuo’ and come back for revenge one day. The two kingdoms now rest in peace because of a treaty, and Kuusuke doesn’t do much other than manage his own affairs.

Kusuo’s parents had disappeared under mysterious circumstances years before any of this madness had occurred. He was crowned king a year ago, despite not having a queen by his side. His grandparents didn’t live long enough for them to see grandchildren, but they didn’t worry. The priest said that Kusuo would find himself a queen in no time.

No time became two years, and soon, the royal advisors were nagging at him to get himself a queen. They had even brought up the idea to have the king call in commoners to date, but Kusuo wanted none of that.

Then came princess Kokomi. Princess of Gardenia, the embodiment of perfection itself. Kusuo had taken one peek at her thoughts before he decided that he wouldn’t date her. Her kingdom would’ve gone to war over this, so the king agreed that he would open up applications, and that anyone who wished to become queen could submit an application. They would get one meeting with the king before a yes or a no was chosen.

News of this spread to other kingdoms, and soon, news of this reached the Sirius Kingdom. Among the listeners was the infamous princess Y/n. Though not as gorgeous as the princess of Gardenia, she was still an enigma. The title of princess was placed upon her head since a young age, and she was a princess of the people. The girl who listened to whatever complaint was placed.

“Good Morning Princess Y/n!”

“Good morning Princess!”

“Good morning Sato-san! Good morning to you too Suzumiya-san!”

“How’s the castle life so far Princess Y/n?”

“It’s been alright. I’m still trying to get mother and father to listen to the requests. I do hope that you are doing well today?”

Y/n was charismatic to the people, despised by the nobles. To them, royalty and the working class should not intermingle, and the nobles were noble because God had chosen them to be. Not because of the lies and tricks behind the curtains of perfection. Y/n had learned from a young age that perfection was not real, and that flaws were just hidden by money and wealth instead.

Perfection meant marrying a royal, and with the news of King Saiki searching for a queen, Y/n’s parents were quick to sign her up for it. It resulted in a rather large strain the family relationship, but no outsider needed to know that. The facade put up was for the public to see, and the royals to uphold.

“You’re selling me off!” Y/n screamed one particular evening at dinner.

“We are in no way selling you off. We are simply sending you to the Psi empire to see if they would accept you.” Her father booms. “Stop putting words in my mouth,”

“You are selling me off.” Y/n glares. “I don’t wish to marry a textbook king! If I’m marrying a man then I’m going to do everything at my own pace. I am no queen who will sit around while my people’s requests and complaints are ignored by the nobility and royals.”

“Y/n darling-“ Her mother tries.

“You have one month.” The king bellows. Y/n pulls on her gown and leaves the room. The outfit is quickly ditched in her room as she wanders through the passageways of the castle. She meets the exit soon, and she rushes outside, wiping off any traces of her royal blood. She runs, and ignores all the greetings as she reaches for the flower field in the outskirts. The field was behind a noble bar surprisingly enough, and information was always passed there. The girl messes up her hair and leans against the back door to the bar.

“Miss f/n,” The bartender nods, locking the door behind him. “The nobles wish to overthrow the royal family by marrying one of the noblewomen over to the Gardenia Empire,”

“Ah?” Y/n looked up from the ground. “Which noblewoman?”

“I believe they wish to marry over Madam Hinata to Prince Makoto,” the bartender nods.

“When do they start negotiating?” Y/n looks up.

“I believe they start tomorrow,”

“Alright, thank you kind sir,” She hands the bartender a bag of gold and wanders off. Even if she wanted to hate her parents, she was still their daughter. She may hate the castle, but it was her home, and she was taught to protect what mattered to her.

“Mizuki-chan grab me a horse from the palace, I want to leave this wretched place as soon as possible.” Y/n calls for her servant when she gets the animal, she hands the servant a letter.

“No one other than mother and father is to see this letter,” You slip her the letter, and then you’re gone.

The night breeze feels good on your skin. It feels like freedom, running away from your past, embracing your future. Y/n feels free, but her goal isn’t to run away, it’s to protect what was hers and to protect what will be the royal lineage’s. She had siblings, people, and a country in a corrupt noble’s hands was no better than a fragmented one.

The gates to the Psi Empire are huge. Y/n goes through several checks before she’s let in, and she continues riding until it’s early morning. She’s exhausted, but she isn’t allowed to rest until she arrives at the palace.

The crack of dawn arrives at the Psi Palace and Kusuo arises. His day runs as usual, but he’s met with a sudden emergency guest. His advisors suggest that he ignore them to continue his job, but the person’s thoughts are too much to handle and he would rather get it over with.

“Call the person over,”

Y/n wanders into the room, lifting her cloak off of her head. “Your highness,” she bows.

“… Princess Y/n…” Kusuo raises a brow. “You may rise. What brings you here to my empire?”

“King Kusuo,” Y/n nods. “The nobles in my kingdom are planning to overthrow my family from the throne. I come here to request help in repressing them.”

“Why should I help you?” Saiki raises a brow at her figure.

“My kingdom would prove to be an excellent allegiance with yours.” Y/n held her head high. “On top of that, I could be promised to you in exchange for your help. I may end up as your queen from this exchange.”

Saiki stares at the princess. She look bold, strong, yet small and kind. Her thoughts are kind, caring, and he can tell that she has the best for the commonfolk in mind. He thinks over whether or not his empire should get involved.

“However I must be honest your highness,” She bows lightly. “The nobles wish to marry off a noblewoman to Prince Makoto of Gardenia. While I have no doubts that your kingdom would be able to hold them off, I believe that it would be extra trouble making an enemy out of a kingdom that has the fairest princess in all the land.”

“I am aware,” Saiki nods. “How urgent is this matter?”

Saiki wants to turn her down, but there’s something about the fire in her eyes and the truth in her words that draws him in. He feels slightly sick thinking about all the lives that would be lost if he sent men.

“They start negotiating with the kingdom tonight,” Y/n responds.

“Will there be lives lost?”

“I can not promise that there will be none,” She shakes her head. “But I can promise that if action is taken early enough, the nobles will be repressed with minimum bloodshed. I wish not for my people to take part in a bloody civil war.”

Her words are genuine and Saiki nods. “I understand. Do you have a messenger bird at home?”

“I do,” The princess nods. “I would prefer to pass laws onto the nobles, but they hold a much higher number in the government than I would like. My only hope would be being wed to you, or perhaps crushing them by force.”

“Becoming a tyrant?” Saiki raises a brow. “Do you not believe in any other alternative?”

“Noblemen have been in power for centuries your highness. If the root of the issue is not removed, then the weeds will still continue growing.” Y/n nods. Saiki eyes the girl once more and smirks.

“Then how about a proposal? I’ll help in exchange for you by my side for eternity.” Saiki knows you’re desperate. He admires you for thinking about the number of lives potentially lost to a civil war, and he cannot think of another way that would benefit both his empire and your kingdom.

Y/n pauses to look at the emperor. “Then Emperor Kusuo, I would like to propose that we take it slow, and that I do not be touched in any way that would make me uncomfortable,”

“Then I shall announce you as my lover.” Saiki smiles. “With the announcement, a portion of the noblemen in your kingdom would start to doubt the plan, and eventually the root of the problem would be weeded out. Do I have your permission Princess Y/n?”

Y/n looks at his challenging gaze with one of equal ambition. “Of course your highness,”

The news of Princess Y/n of Sirius dating Emperor Kusuo reaches the ears of all the kingdoms at the same time. Y/n’s parents are elated, and they welcome Emperor Kusuo with open arms. The commonfolk are in ecstasy, their beloved princess marrying an Emperor.

The news reaches the Castle of Gardenia and Princess Kokomi throws a tantrum.

“How come the emperor didn’t decide upon me? I’m the perfect princess, and I’d make an even better queen!” She sobs, and her brother consoles her.

“I’m forming an alliance with the nobles in Sirius, we’ll take down the royal family and then I’ll force the emperor to submit to me and marry you,” Makoto smiles. Kokomi only sniffs and nods.

The Sirius kingdom is flourishing. Saiki and Y/n are taking it slow, but they’ve made significant progress relationship wise. The two have started going on walks, and Kusuo joined Y/n one afternoon in town. He’s surprised to find so many commoners crowd around her.

“Suzumia-san! How have you been?”

“Ah I got married recently! I’m Mrs. Sato now!”

“Sato?? That’s incredible!” You clasped your hands together and Saiki had smiled at you softly. You looked so pretty, so gentle. He could picture you as his queen.

The calm is always before the storm though. The noblewoman who was supposed marry Prince Makoto pulled on with the plan, and the two started discussing about the wedding.

“For the wedding, I would like for it to be grand. I wish for it to make a statement to the opposing empire,” The noblewoman smiles.

“Ah yes,” Prince Makoto smiled. “It shall make a statement to the other empire for sure,”

The day of the wedding is grand, there’s palace guards everywhere. Neither royal from the Psi empire make an appearance, and the noblewoman thinks she’s scared the other empire into preparing for war. The wedding itself throws the woman off guard though.

“Do you, Miss agree to the crime of treason?” There’s an evil glint in the pastor’s eyes and the Psi royal guards rush in. The family looks around in confusion.

“I applaud you for trying to take over and become queen, but unfortunately there are strings that you as a noble simply can’t pull.” Y/n walks down the aisle, wearing a pair of white trousers and a simple dress shirt. Their hair is styled, and they looked like any other palace guard.

“W-wha?”

“I applaud you for trying,” You smile. “You were mistaken to think that I wasn’t best friends with other princes and princesses,”

“Huh?!” The noblewoman looks around and both Teruhashi’s are smiling.

“I may be in love with the emperor, and my brother may despise him, but sometimes throwing innocent commonfolk into a war isn’t what we wish to do,” Teruhashi smiles.

An agreement had been reached last minute between the Kingdom of Gardenia and Sirius. Neither side would shed blood, and they would arrest the nobles and strip them of their titles. While Princess Kokomi had grown up with Princess Y/n, it was also only reasonable to not shed innocent blood. Besides, the Teruhashi’s were far relatives of the L/n’s.

“Alright now Princess Y/n, I would like to know what you’ll pay with,” Teruhashi grins playfully as she holds her hand out. She had dropped her facade in front of the princess ever since Y/n had exposed her for it.

“I’m not sure, how about I pay you with an invitation to the golden ball later this month?”

Teruhashi pretends to think before she grins. “Nope! I want your lover right there~”

Y/n gasps in shock and pretends to be offended. “I am not giving you my future husband!”

“You never know,” Kokomi grins teasingly.

The execution is the next day, the jury had unanimously decided that the nobles were committing treason thanks to Princess Teruhashi. The blood curling screams and mess created from the beheading didn’t seem to bother Princess Y/n much as she had expected it to.

The rest of the half of the month passes quickly, and soon it’s the golden ball. Y/n is in a f/c ball gown, and Saiki’s suit matches her outfit. The two spend the evening close to each other and Kusuo leaves her side for a moment.

“Your highness!” A commoner approaches her and she smiles. “Congrats on the engagement!”

“Engagement?” The princess tilts their head in confusion.

“Are you two not yet engaged?” The commoner looks confused before they gasp as they look behind her.

She hears more gasping around her. She looks around and finds her lover on the ground.

“Your highness-“

Saiki raises a brow in question at the name and Y/n corrects herself. “Kuu…”

“My darling Y/n, there would be no honour greater than to become your king and emperor. I can not think of myself with anyone else in this life, and I hope that we would last through all of our lifetimes together. From the day that I saw you, to this very second, I have never been more in love. My darling Y/n, will you marry me?”

Y/n’s eyes water and a bit of their makeup comes off. A choked out “yes” leaves their lips and Kusuo pulls the princess in for a hug. The girl feels bad for ruining her lover’s shirt but her tears don’t stop coming.

“I’ll love you for eternity,”

“As will I, your highness”

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #my royal aus are always so bland ngl #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki #ngl I kinda hated that header at first but it looks rlly cute now for no reason #saiki no psi nan

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cyhyr · 3 years

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Whumpmas In July: Closure

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: ~3950

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Wakes & Funerals, Angst, fluff, smut, blow jobs, hand jobs, moving in together

A/N: BUT LIKE THIS IS JUST P0RN WITH *~*FEELINGS*~*

Conclusion, Starting from "Sleep"

Read After “Hope”

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read on The Archive

Kakashi sits on the edge of the bed and watches Iruka dress. Black on black on black formalwear; he’s dressed similarly. Iruka is fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt, watching himself in the mirror that hangs on the closet door. His hair is still loose, slightly damp at the ends from his shower and curling at his shoulders. It’ll straighten as it dries, Kakashi knows.

“Love.”

Iruka drops his hands. He’s been fumbling the same button for a few seconds.

Kakashi stands and crosses the room. He reaches around Iruka, drawing his back to his chest, and finishes the line of the shirt. With gentle coaxing, he turns Iruka around and then pulls him back into a tight hug.

“We don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this.”

Iruka rests his forehead on Kakashi’s shoulder, his hands light on his waist. “No one else will,” he says quietly.

“That doesn’t mean it’s your responsibility.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just let his spirit float aimlessly?”

Kakashi doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how. He just holds Iruka tighter.

“I need this,” Iruka murmurs. “I need to do this.”

“Alright,” Kakashi kisses his hairline. “Alright.”

He stays at the edge of the cemetery, watching Iruka and the priest speak. He’s too far away to hear. He doesn’t care.

The fuck died a traitor to the village, a rapist and an abuser to the end.

All around this cemetery are the ancestors of civilian families who have lived in Konoha and the Land of Fire for decades, centuries. This… he doesn’t deserve to share the same space as them.

But.

Iruka fought for it. He petitioned Tsunade, and spoke to the priests, and arranged for as many of the funeral rites as he could reasonably be allowed. Mizuki’s name won’t go on the Stone, nor was he allowed to be enshrined in the cemetery with other fallen shinobi. And Iruka was… he accepted the terms.

So this morning they picked up Mizuki’s ashes and bones.

And now they’re here, with incense and candles and one lone white chrysanthemum in Iruka’s fingers. When they’d gotten here, the priest had asked if they wanted to wait for anyone else, but Iruka had sadly murmured to just get it over with. No one else was coming. Iruka had sent out notices to their classmates, old coworkers, the woman that Mizuki had after Iruka; no one had responded.

Kakashi had held Iruka through the disappointment last night. Iruka had hoped that the woman, Tsubaki, would at least show. But yesterday was just like today; nothing and no one else.

So he watches. The incense is lit and prayers are said, the bones and ashes are laid before the gravestone, covered with the wooden marker and one of the few photographs Iruka still has of Mizuki, one taken back when they both had finally completed their first year of teaching.

“This one,” he had said, picking it out of the album. He had put his fingertip lovingly over Mizuki’s face and held back tears, continuing, “We. We were happy, then… I think. Maybe it wasn’t real, but it felt—right.”

Finally the priest finishes the prayers and rites, and the ashes and bones are buried, the marker placed. The priest seems to offer Iruka their condolences one last time, and then leaves. Kakashi holds up a hand to stop them as they approach, and takes out a heavy envelope from his inner jacket pocket. With a slight bow he offers the envelope to the priest, and they accept it silently.

Iruka had told him he could cover the expenses for the service.

Kakashi needs to do this for him, though. It’s all he can do now, really.

Because he’s trying. He’s trying to be objective at least. But this dick abused his lover for years, conditioned him into acting certain ways under stress; and now Iruka takes a small cocktail of medication everyday to keep himself stable. And he can’t forget that, let alone forgive. He won’t.

He’s glad Mizuki’s dead. And also, he’s of the opinion that Mizuki doesn’t deserve the same rites that the dead typically receive. He doesn’t deserve to be treated with the same dignity that everyone else is—Minato-sensei, Obito, Rin.

(Not his father. He. He never did this for Sakumo. He was too young, in too much pain, and the village was all too pleased to see Sakumo gone. He regrets that now, but he can’t… well. The bones and ashes are still in the family shrine. Maybe…)

So instead he pays for the service, and for the cremation, and for the burial, and includes a significant donation to inspire the priests to come by and pray over Mizuki’s grave for the next year or so. Because that’s what Iruka would want. He would want someone to help this poor fuck, even if it couldn’t be himself.

Kakashi wonders if Mizuki knew how lucky he was, to have the devotion of the one person in the entire village—likely the entire world—who knows only how to see the good in people. He wonders if Mizuki knows now how lucky he is, that even though Iruka killed him, even though Mizuki raped him and beat him and brutalized him… Iruka is here, when no one else would step up, praying over his ashes for his soul to find peace.

Because—and it hurts to admit it—Iruka loved him.

Iruka smiles and the sun comes out; Iruka leans on Kakashi and the south winds warm him from the inside out; Iruka kisses him and it’s a revelation. And it’s his capacity to love, and especially to love broken people, that’s given Kakashi the chance to have this. Not his humanity—though that is such a bonus—but this unending fount of love Iruka seems to be made of; that’s his strength.

It’s also his most dire weakness. And Mizuki took advantage of that. He took all the love Iruka gave him and twisted it into something dark and bitter. But instead of running or fighting like any other shinobi should have, Iruka’s response was simply to love Mizuki harder. Maybe they drove each other to the heights of insanity they eventually reached.

Kakashi will never know. And after today he won’t care.

He enters the cemetery to go and stand silently beside Iruka, still praying. Eventually, Iruka picks up his head and leans against Kakashi’s thigh.

“It wasn’t all bad, y’know,” Iruka mutters.

Kakashi doesn’t respond, only carefully places his hand on Iruka’s hair and petting gently.

“After the Kyūbi attack, we roomed together until we graduated from the Academy,” Iruka says. “Sometimes the heat would go out and he would come and huddle with me with all the extra blankets we had.”

He was probably just cold too.

“He stayed up all night with me to practice the clone jutsu before our final test, so we could graduate together.”

He was using your natural ability to teach to learn a last-minute technique.

“He taught Naruto how to roll omelets. That was. That was a nice morning.”

He… hmm.

“He wasn’t always a monster,” Iruka sniffles. “I… He was there, Kakashi.”

“I know, Love.”

“I never wanted this.”

“I know.”

“I thought… For so long, I thought we would be together forever. He was everything. And it was… it was okay. I didn’t know it could be any different.” Iruka looks up at him, tears stuck in his eyes. “He had it easy, didn’t he? I forgave everything he did to me.”

“But he took you for granted.”

“What he did was underestimate my protectiveness,” Iruka sighs. “Both times. It ended our relationship, and then it ended his life.”

They stay in the cemetery for a long time. Kakashi listens to Iruka tell him stories about Mizuki the boyfriend and tries to meld that with his own memories of Mizuki the abuser. When they leave, Iruka drops the chrysanthemum on top of the marker with a finality that screams where the rest of the cemetery is silent.

They go home later, and Iruka stops on the sidewalk looking at his house while Kakashi pushes the fence open and starts down the path to the front door. His black jacket is slung over his shoulder, and the sunset warms his skin and casts a reddish-orange glow onto his pale skin. He stops and turns, one foot propped on the second step up to the porch, and smiles back at Iruka.

That Iruka can tell he’s smiling with three-quarters of his face covered and three meters of space between them… Iruka realizes he’s so far gone on this man. He has been for months.

But Kakashi looks so perfect, waiting for him outside the house.

“Coming, Love?”

Iruka flushes, scratches at his scar, and walks up the path. When he’s close enough to Kakashi, he murmurs, “Hopefully later,” and passes on to the door to unlock it and release the wards. He leads the way inside and looks back over his shoulder to see Kakashi looking at his ass hungrily, still standing in the same spot and position he’d been when Iruka had passed him.

He grins. “Coming, Love?”

Kakashi looks up at him and whines, “Don’t tease.”

Iruka laughs. He turns and goes inside, leaving the door open for Kakashi to follow him. He tosses his keys onto the table in the genkan and begins toeing off his shoes.

Kakashi comes and stands behind him, putting his nose right in Iruka’s hair behind his ear. “Love you,” he mutters.

“Love you too,” Iruka responds. He twists and kisses Kakashi on the cheek, still masked.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry,” Iruka says. He finishes getting his shoes off and steps out of the genkan. He holds out his hands for Kakashi to take, and grins when he has Kakashi close again, now in the living room. “Though, if you’re on the menu…”

Kakashi takes down his mask, groaning deep in his chest. “I thought you said no Icha Icha lines.” He slips his arms around Iruka’s neck while Iruka’s hands go to Kakashi’s hips.

Iruka leans in slowly. “Are you really complaining?”

“No. No, gods, no. Please kiss me.”

Iruka deliberately kisses Kakashi on the corner of his mouth. And when Kakashi tries to turn into the kiss, he trails kisses away from Kakashi’s lips, across his jaw and down his neck.

“Iruka—!” Kakashi whines.

He walks them back to the couch, licking at Kakashi’s neck the whole while. He sits down and Kakashi falls after him, straddling his lap and cupping his face.

“It’s okay? Can I—?”

“Kakashi, please keep kissing m—”

He does. He dives in and coaxes Iruka’s lips apart so their tongues can glide together. All the while his hips are slowly rocking against Iruka’s; he grabs Kakashi low on his hips and urges him to grind faster.

“You and your—oh, gods—fucking suit,” Kakashi pants into his mouth. “Gorgeous. Godsdamned gorgeous in this.”

Iruka tips his head back and lets Kakashi kiss and lick down his neck. Fingers grapple at his tie and collar, fumble with his shirt. Iruka’s own hands squeeze Kakashi’s ass, full and warm in his palms.

“Want you,” Kakashi murmurs against his throat. “Want. I want to see you come. Can I do that for you tonight? Please, please let me make you come.”

Iruka pushes Kakashi’s head up with two fingers under his chin and kisses him. Kakashi’s hands stop their pursuit of stripping him out of his shirt and instead cup Iruka’s face, still muttering please, please, please, all the while rocking and grinding in Iruka’s lap and—

And—

Oh, how’s he supposed to say no to that?

“Okay,” Iruka kisses him. “Um. Okay. Just. I don’t…”

And then Kakashi says, "I want you to fuck me."

And something in Iruka stops.

“Want to—hmm—feel you move in me,” Kakashi rambles. He continues unbuttoning Iruka’s shirt, exposing more and more bronze skin. Iruka's chest is broad and muscled and perfect, just like the rest of him, and Kakashi slips off of his lap to settle on his knees between Iruka’s thighs; he leans in and laps at Iruka’s clavicle, down his sternum, drifts aside to catch a nipple in his teeth. Iruka’s soft hum and fingers in his hair tell him he’s doing good so he flicks his tongue against the bud between his teeth. His own eye rolls back to hear Iruka’s cry of pleasure.

Down further, he keeps undoing buttons and parting fabric. He lays kisses all over Iruka’s belly, cups his erection through his pants, and glances up at Iruka before he goes for his belt and trousers.

“Please.”

“What—um—what are you…?” Iruka can’t seem to get the words out, but his chest is heaving with his breath and the flush on his cheeks is staining his flesh all the way down his neck. He’s-he’s beautiful.

“I. I really want to suck you off,” Kakashi says. “And then, if you’re up for round two, I want you inside me.”

Iruka takes his cheek in hand and smiles and says, “We can. We can definitely try that.”

“I love you.”

Iruka kisses him again, soft and sweet. “Love you too. But let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Kakashi can agree with that. He stands up and pulls Iruka along by the hands. He’s giddy and excited—almost as much as when Iruka lets him eat him out, but this excitement has the twinge of newness to it. He’s wanted to get Iruka’s cock in his mouth since the first time they had gone to bed together, and now, finally, he’s getting it.

He’s a bit lightheaded by the prospect, if he’s honest.

Once they’re in the bedroom, Iruka begins unbuttoning Kakashi’s shirt, while Kakashi plays with Iruka’s buckle. Iruka moves to the cuff buttons at each wrist, and then returns to Kakashi’s chest to part the fabric and slide his palms over his undershirt and up to his shoulders. He pushes the shirt off and pulls it down his arms, dragging his palms and fingertips along his pale skin and raised scars. The shirt is tossed and Iruka returns to the undershirt, lifting slowly from the bottom and smirking at how Kakashi’s abs jump at his touch.

The undershirt and mask join the shirt on the floor, and Iruka goes for Kakashi’s belt, but is halted by his own belt and trousers being undone. Kakashi let Iruka have his bit of fun; but he’s really got to get that cock in his mouth.

“I love you,” he murmurs again. He leans in and kisses Iruka’s cheek, down to his jaw and back to his lips; traces his ribs with his fingers and groans at the dips of muscle definition on his abdomen. “You’re perfect, and I love you.”

Iruka’s panting lightly, his eyes closed and his lips shiny with spit—his or Kakashi’s, who’s keeping track anymore? Kakashi swallows the whimpering moan he pulls from Iruka’s throat as he finishes stripping both of them, their clothing a pile of fabric on the floor.

He urges Iruka to lay down on the bed, takes hold of his underwear once he’s prone, and asks again, “Is this alright?”

Iruka’s response is to raise his hips and tip his head to the side. He has a wet, red mark on his neck that may bruise by morning if Kakashi’s not careful.

He slips the last bit of fabric off and throws it aside. Iruka’s cock, hard and reddened, bobs onto his belly and smears precome across his skin. He blushes furiously, and it’s perfect.

Kakashi crawls onto the bed, spreading Iruka’s legs and settling himself between thick muscular thighs. First he kisses the soft, darker skin of his inner thighs, then trails his nose up through the thatch of hair around the base of his cock. He darts out his tongue to taste and relishes the whimper he receives. One hand joins his mouth in worship, gently cradling the thick cock while his tongue licks all around the base.

“K’shi. Love.”

The most subtle of shifts has him positioned above the head of Iruka’s cock. He licks up a bead of precome at the tip, closing his eyes to savor it. Continuing to cradle this precious member in one hand, he begins to press open-mouth kisses all along the shaft. His thumb caresses the tip and spreads the precome that keeps leaking.

Then Kakashi licks a wide stripe up the underside, base to tip, and sucks the head into his mouth—

And Iruka sobs.

Kakashi lifts his head, letting Iruka slip from his mouth but still holding him in one hand, and checks in—”Iruka?”

“Don’t stop,” Iruka whimpers. “Please. Please don’t stop.”

Relieved, Kakashi kisses his navel, his hips; strokes his cock with a slow, steady palm; and only when he hears Iruka cry out again—

“Gods among us, Kakashi, please!”

—does he slip his lips back over his head and take Iruka as far into his mouth as he can. He’s not long, but he’s thick and Kakashi’s jaw aches to hold him on his tongue; a slow breath out has Kakashi sliding the very tip of Iruka’s cock down his throat and relishing the fresh, louder cry he receives for the motion. He can hold Iruka in his throat for twenty-four seconds before needing to pull back. He’s not like Iruka, with no gag reflex and a penchant for swallowing long cocks and holding them in his throat. He bobs his head, drooling over the thick shaft and moaning at the taste of more precome in the back of his mouth.

Kakashi had been braced on his elbow, holding Iruka’s hip with a careful grip. But now he shifts, settles his weight more on his knees, places his forearms on Iruka’s spread thighs. He continues holding Iruka’s cock with one hand, stroking where his mouth can’t reach and keeping him from jerking up into Kakashi’s throat. With his newly freed hand, though, he cups Iruka’s balls and presses his thumb just barely against Iruka’s hole.

“Love you, love you, oh-oh-ahh, so g-good, K’shi, fuck.”

That’s it. That’s it, Love.

He lets Iruka thrust into his mouth just the barest amount, knowing unfortunately that he’ll choke if he lets Iruka take what he wants but also. Also, gods, Iruka is panting and moaning and it’s driving Kakashi higher and higher.

“Want. Oh. Kakashi, Love, wanna come with you,” Iruka taps at his shoulder, “Please, please come up here and kiss me.”

He lets Iruka go, swallows the last bitter traces of precome on his tongue, and crawls up Iruka’s body. Iruka takes him by the face and pulls him the rest of the way to his mouth, kissing and nipping at his lips and groaning all the while.

“Why,” Iruka mutters into his mouth,”are you still wearing your underwear?”

“Good question.” Kakashi licks into his mouth and continues kissing him, fingers his nipples, rocks their hips together—

“Off. Get them off,” Iruka whines.

“But then I’d have to stop touching you.”

“You can take three seconds to strip.”

Kakashi sits back and shoves his underwear down his thighs. The cool air on his dick is a shock, but not as much as watching Iruka reach for his own cock and begin to touch himself.

Kakashi stops to watch.

His fingertips glide along the underside, up and down and up and—they stop and Iruka takes himself in a light grip, swirling his thumb against the tip while his other hand drifts to his chest to pinch and tweak at his own nipple.

Iruka licks his lips, moans brokenly, and says, “Are you going to make me do this myself, or are we doing this together?”

He fumbles the rest of the way out of his underwear, saying, “I. Well.” He settles back, kneeling between Iruka’s thighs and watching his hand move and his chest heave. “Gods, Iruka, I could come from this.”

“Watching me?”

“You have no idea. How godsdamn sexy you are right now.”

Iruka’s blush is sweet and gorgeous.

“Want us,” he pants. “Want you.”

Kakashi leans back down and kisses him, deep and lovingly, pressing their bodies together, hips to navel to chest. Iruka’s arms encircle his neck and keep him close, keep them kissing. He reaches between them for Iruka’s cock and takes him in hand again, pumping his hand carefully.

Iruka shakes his head. “Together, Kakashi, please.”

He shivers. “I won’t last,” he murmurs.

“Don’t care. Wanna feel you.”

So Kakashi leans up on his elbow, adjusts his hips and pushes his own cock alongside Iruka’s into the circle of his hand and they both sigh and moan and Iruka begs him to move—

“K’shi, please, please, I’m so close, just—little more, please!”

Kakashi ruts, smoothing precome along their cocks with his palm and easing the friction. Iruka’s leaking steadily but Kakashi’s pulsing, damp squirts from his tip with each thrust. His eyes are shut tight and his lips are parted and kiss-bruised.

“You. You’re so beautiful,” Kakashi whispers.

And Iruka comes. Splashes of come slip over his hand, pooling on his stomach and chest. Kakashi stills his hand to feel the pulse of Iruka’s cock against his own and it’s glorious. His jaw drops in an almost silent cry, interrupted only by soft Ah-ah-ahh as he pants. And when he starts to come down, Iruka moans and gasps, “So good K’shi,” and then.

And then he opens his eyes, just the barest amount, and says, “You too. Come for me, Love.”

Like he could resist. Kakashi’s hand doesn’t even move again, still gently holding them both; he comes on command, adding to the mess on Iruka’s belly as his hips rut against Iruka’s.

His mouth is dry and his throat aches when he comes back to himself. Iruka is holding him against his chest, the mess mostly wiped away by a corner of the blanket. Kakashi nuzzles into Iruka’s neck, breathes him in, and relishes the soft touches to his back and arms.

“Move in with me.”

Kakashi opens his eye and picks up his head. Iruka is staring at the ceiling, like he’s not sure how Kakashi's going to respond.

As if there’s any other response he could give.

“Alright.”

“I just thought, y’know, you’re here all the time anyway, and I miss you when—” Iruka looks down at Kakashi and furrows his brow, saying, “Wait. Alright?”

Kakashi smiles. “Alright.”

“You. You’ll live here. With me.”

“I would love to.”

Iruka frowns, turning his gaze away from him and instead to the wall. “I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“I’m realizing that,” Kakashi chuckles.

“I expected to have to convince you.”

“Convince me? To live with the love of my life? To live with the man who makes me bad omelettes but perfect pancakes? To live with you, who makes sure my weapons are sharp and designs seals and tags specifically for my use?”

“Kakashi…”

“I’d get to live with the same man who opened up his heart and his home to my sensei’s son, who the rest of the village had turned their back on, and showed him what love is with no desire for reciprocation or payment. You just. Did.”

“Gods, love, stop.”

Kakashi does. Because that word is important and he won’t tarnish it by disrespecting it. But he could go on. And on. And on.

But Iruka smiles and kisses him again and says, “Okay. We’ll get you moved in tomorrow?”

Because it’s getting late.

And he’s home.

#whumpmasinjuly #final prompt #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu #my writing

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toraashi · 3 years

Text

princess au ft. chuuya nakahara

Title: Untitled Princess AU

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Genre: Fluff and light angst. One of the awful aristocrats makes a comment about you eating too much, forbidden love *gasp*

Word Count: 1,754

Author’s Note: Hiii! Here it is, the princess au I keep hyping up. It’s actually decent, I won’t lie to you, so I hope you enjoy it! 16 year old me was the biggest weeb (I still am rip), so there is a Kamisama Kiss reference in here I’m cringing but I promise it’s not bad!! Please hmu with your bodyguard!chuuya brainrot to feed my lonlieness when you’re finished reading :)

She reached across the table to select a raspberry pastry, her fingers brushing against the red-head’s as they left her side. He visibly tensed, but she ignored it, along with the minute pang she felt in her chest. The dessert was flaky and crumbly in her fingers, it’s deep, striking red jelly oozing through the cracks in the glazed surface.

“My oh my, are you stuffing your face with delights again? How unsavory.” The person in question twisted her head, hiding her scarlet stained gloves behind her back.

“Lady Nikolina!” She elicited a wry smile from the woman, whose cold eyes disapprovingly darted to her out of view fingers.

“You really ought to think about that figure of yours more. Before you know it, you could be a cream puff! Suitors want slim ladies, dear, not large ones.” A strike of crimson striped her smooth cheeks and she nodded.

“Of course, My Lady.” The princess could practically see her devoted bodyguard’s seething gaze, he always had disliked Lady Nikolina, after all. The protectiveness radiating off of him was comforting, and soon the blush she beheld wasn’t being caused by the snobbish Marquiess before her.

“Speaking of suitors-”

“Actually, my apologies, Nikolina, but I’m afraid I’ve got a dance coming up, and I can’t possibly wait. We shall have to continue this lovely little talk at a later date.” Casting the woman a charming smile, she scurried off, pulling Chuuya along with her. He immediately split their hands.

“Princess.” Their gazes met, his swirling pools of cerulean reprimanding her without a single spoken word, but she got the message, and it burned another hole into her soul.

He couldn’t be with her.

He didn’t want to be with her.

Tears prickled her lashes like raindrops, but she pushed them back, refusing to show vulnerability amongst a crowd of powerful politicians and kings. She could see his hues soften, and then harden merely seconds later, his hand habitually reaching to adjust his hat. His familiar mouth looked so inviting, his orbs safe and comforting, but they were not hers.

When she had admitted her flaming affection to him, she had been sure that he had reciprocated those passionate emotions winding around her heart, but he had swiftly shut her down, all of the fleeting touches and lingering bouts of eye contact dissipating like boiling water, vanishing like a ship at sea, breaking like her fragile heart.

Sweeping her scarlet skirts up into her hands, she traversed the expanse of the ballroom, waving politely to trading partners and their stunning wives, nearly tripping over her golden heels if it weren’t for her companion’s lightning reflexes. A murmured ‘thank you’ kissed her lips, but she was quick to continue walking, her dance card heavy in her pocket.

“Princess! It’s almost time for our dance! Wherever have you been?”

“Lord Mizuki. I was conversing with the lovely Lady Nikolina, I’m afraid.”

“Ah. And what positively thrilling topic did you discuss this time?” A laugh escaped her lips as she gazed up at the snow-headed boy.

“My less than attractive addiction to the cook’s tarts, per usual.” Mizuki's emerald colored eyes followed her every moment as she chuckled at her previous encounter; he held his ivory hand out to her.

“Let’s dance, shall we?” The only person she wanted to dance with was Chuuya, but she obliged, letting her dainty palm rest against his. To say she was shocked when he reached forward and urgently grabbed her forearm was an understatement.

“Chuu...ya?” He immediately released her.

“You better come back right after.” She huffed, swiveling her gaze away from his alluring eyes and letting her suitor tug her away.

He swept her out to the dance floor with grace and agility, weaving through the herds of human beings like a serpent, one hand resting on her corseted waist. Once the waltz had begun, he twirled her and moved her with ease, his grace and royal privilege shining through like the golden sun. His firm grip on the curve of her body was relaxing and coaxing, as if catching her hesitance and disliking for the ordeal.

“My lady, what was that all about with your… bodyguard, is it? I’ve heard he is quite extraordinary.” She let her eyes flutter up to meet his, mind breezing towards Chuuya’s form, his strong arms and beautiful hues.

“You are correct, Lord Mizuki, Chuuya is quite effective. He has his faults, for example, his extreme impatience and impossibly short tempered, but I’ve known him since I was a child.” She looked fondly over at his tense form, narrowed eyes and locked jaw. “He is awfully protective.”

“As I can see.” She averted her eyes back to her dance partner, whose own were sharp and limpid, staring directly at the opposing man.

“Mizuki… you’ve stopped dancing.”

“Ah! Yes, my bad, pardon me, Princess.” He quickly got back into the flow, keeping in sync with the plethora of other couples.

Once the music had faded out, she curtsied slightly towards her companion, immediately leaving the marble beneath her feet and heading towards the sidelines. Rather than immediately treading back towards her designated “lap dog”, a plan formulated in her brilliant mind, one she wouldn’t have been able to pull off with the ability user around.

Hues flicking to Chuuya’s position (he was clearly searching for her), she scurried towards the back stairway, grabbing Lady Nikolina’s garish hat directly off of her head as a disguise. Swinging her hips in the Marquiess’ fashion, she easily traversed the velvet carpeted steps, gloved hand delicately running up the glass railing, tracing each intricate design and emblem. Lady Nikolina’s rooms were just down the hall, so she presumed that if she headed left she could discreetly loop around without causing a commotion. Chuuya wouldn’t risk a confrontation with Nikolina even if he suspected it was the princess. She flicked her hands towards the guard discriminatingly, as a sort of greeting so he knew where she was headed off to, which she hoped he assumed was her chambers. Refraining from viewing the astounding paintings of her heritage lining the towering walls and sky-breaking ceiling, she stepped forward with urgency, gold slippers clicking on the obsidian beneath her feet. She could practically feel freedom in her hands, the balcony merely meters away, she could feel the cool autumn air piercing her lungs, the comforting hum of crickets and light gabber of guests still entering her father’s party.

The shining glass french doors were open in moments, and she spun in euphoria; no more pining suitors, no more reprimanding love interests, no more chastising Marquesses; her plan had been utterly foolproof. Except for one little detail.

Just as she had gotten used to her balcony experience, the entryway slammed open again, a deep, familiar voice slicing through the silence like a bomb, loud and uncontrollable.

“Oi! What the hell do you think you’re doing out here?! Running away like that? Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to recognize you with someone else’s hat on?!” She gulped bracing herself for the lecture to come. “You’re such a stubborn little shit. First you insist on wearing that absurdly fancy dress, then you decide to waltz with that sly snake Mizuki, and for some reason you still have the nerve to sneak away from the ball- from me!” His glare could kill the fluffiest of bunny rabbits, but it didn’t faze her.

“Well, maybe you should stop being a prick about your actions! I could care less whether you held my hand, you idiot!” She thrust her arms down to her sides. “And what does my dress or Lord Mizuki have anything to do with this?! Are you just jealous or something?!” A low growl rose from his throat like the impending rumble of distant thunder, but she was unperturbed. “I’m not stupid, Chuu! I know you feel just the same way I do! I’ve known you for years, you dumbass!” A wisp of hair tumbled in front of her eyes, shielding the building tears from the man. They rebelliously streaked down her rosy cheeks moments later anyway, like rain pouring from (e/c) clouds. She swore she heard a relenting sigh puff out into the silence, but her own quiet whimpers made her unsure of his intentions. Abruptly, one lithe arm looped around her waist tugging her in, his head balancing on top her hers and consequently sending her glittering tiara tumbling to the floor.

“Listen up, [Name].” She felt a bout of dizziness waft over her as she breathed in his addictive scent of cologne and wine, her corset suddenly felt wound too tightly, and she couldn’t breathe.

“Chuuya…”

“You’re a princess. I’m your bodyguard. You are supposed to be married off to a wealthy prince, not your me.”

“I don’t care.”

“See? That’s the problem. I care because my job is on the line.” Craning her head up, she met her eyes with his shockingly blue ones, pleading from the depths of her heart.

“You’d choose your job over me?” He grumbled, fixing his hat.

“You are my job, dumbass.” Continuing to look up at him through her lashes, she tossed the bait.

“Are you saying you don’t want to lose me?” Hook. Line. Sinker. He peered back at her, a light flush across his cheeks. His gaze never left her, and they sat in a forcefield of quiet for five minutes before she made a move, leaning forward into his space. Allowing her lids to flitter closed, she met his lips boldly, the warmth from him enveloping her entire being, drawing her in, and he managed to kiss back, soon becoming more passionate than her. Hands flying to her waist, he tugged her flush against him, her arms winding around his neck and plunging into the forest of orange that topped his head.

“[Name]...” He murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. His longing was simple to spot in his deep, flaming smooches against her lips, and she was feeling the same emotions course through her. He loved her. She loved him. They had known since they had both realized it within themselves.

She was the first to draw away, and he immediately tried to capture her lips again, but she held him back, smiling slightly. The snarky remark lingering on her tongue melted away when she met his eyes, her heart swelling at his adoring expression.

“You’re right,” He murmured gruffly, keeping her close. “I do love you.”

MASTERLIST

Request Here!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd chuuya #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya princess au #chuuya bodyguard au #chuuya angst #chuuya scenarios #chuuya imagines #chuuya x you

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lancermylove · 3 years

Text

The Dark Side (HC)

Fandom: BSTS

Pairing: All x fem!Reader

Warning: N.SFW

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Umm.. This might gonna sound a little bit weird but I can request hc for bsts boys, nsfw, but… them finding out that their s/o (fem) is into bdsm stuff? That sounds crazy but I’m also so curious.

A/N: It’s not crazy at all. I think I’ve included whether or not they would like bdsm for almost all the general n.sfw hcs. I’m not comfortable writing out a full-blown hc for the BDSM plays, so fingers crossed that’s not what you were hoping for. ><

———————————————

Kokuyou was a bit stunned that you enjoyed BSDM, “That’s unexpected.”

He doesn’t mind as long as the plays are not too dark or too violent. Though he may be rough around the edges, he still doesn’t want to get too intense with you.

His favorite plays are sub/dom with him being the dom and light bondage.

In the sub/dom, he likes to pull some of your strings and set a bunch of rules for which he can punish you if you break them.

For bondage, he likes to tie your arms to the bed and tease you until you beg for him to take you.

“Oh, someone likes to get very naughty,” he smirked when he learned that you are found of the darker arts of lovemaking.

Though he’s pretty open to experimenting, Akira isn’t that comfortable with BDSM. He will try pegging once just to see how he likes it; if he does, he will gladly let you peg him, but if he doesn’t, he will never try it again.

He doesn’t mind plays like roleplaying as long as it doesn’t involve something like master/slave or too high of dominance in general, be it him dominating or you dominating him.

His favorite with roleplaying is idol/fan or any outfit that involves you looking cute, short-frilly skirts are his favorite.

Taiga's cheeks glowed red when you told him that you were into BDSM as he never expected it.

He isn't that comfortable with it, but he loves roleplaying. Roleplay any game character for him, and Taiga will be all over you, but he doesn't care for normal roleplaying, like doctor/nurse (unless you're an anime or game nurse).

A smirk danced on his lips when he learned that you like BDSM. "Then, what would you like to try first?"

If pain is your pleasure, then he will deliver to your needs. Tell him what you want, and this man will make even your darkest dreams come true.

Takami's favorites are sensory deprivation and bondage. He likes testing your limits and will actively try to cross your limits, but not to the point where he puts you in the uncomfortable zone.

He is also a fan of master/servant but will not push you into it. He will never force you, especially if you think of it as demeaning. He may have a dark side to him, but Takami has no intention of hurting you.

"I see..." That all he says when he learns about your desires.

Sin isn’t really fond of BDSM and prefers to stay away from it. He’s more of a romantic who will put on music and light candles to create the atmosphere.

Though if you push him a little, he may try some of the lighter plays, but don't expect him to try anything deemed dark.

“I am sorry...” Kei averted his eye and mumbled.

He will never agree to do anything that will cause you pain or will require him to dominate or demean you, so no BDSM. Though, he may be willing to try the lightest BDSM plays - keyword: may.

Kei cannot understand the world of BDSM and prefers to stay away, but he does ask you why you enjoy it and adds that he respects your choices.

Sotetsu is pretty open to trying some of the BDSM plays but will refuse to give in to anything too dark, so when he learns you’re into it, he flashes one of his signature devilish smirks.

He wouldn’t mind experiment with dom/sub (him being the dom), bondage, biting, hair pulling while taking you doggy style, ice play, and a light version of humiliation play.

If you ask him to hit you with anything or strangle you or play with dangerous toys, then he will straight up refuse.

“What is BDSM?” He asked, and when you explained, Gui felt uncomfortable.

He refuses, especially if pain is your pleasure, so no BDSM. If he hurts you, he would never forgive himself. The concept of pain can bring pleasure eludes him.

Gui doesn’t understand roleplaying either, but you’re welcome to try to make him understand.

“Uh...o-okay,” he whispered in a shaking voice, “I...c-can’t.”

Ginsei will not agree to BDSM no matter what...even if it makes you happy. Just the thought of it makes him nervous.

He will always apologize to you for not fulfilling all your desires and also thank you for understanding.

"Is that so...," he asked with wide eyes, "um...then would you try out things I like?"

Yoshino is big into age play, namely being called daddy, as it makes him feel powerful.

He can also resort to dirty talk/name-calling when he gets rough, and his softer expressions are replaced by darker ones.

He doesn’t mind roleplaying and is rather fond of sub/dom. Whether he wants to be a sub or dom depends on his and your mood.

Hidden behind his sweet face is another face that is only reserved for you when you're in the bedroom alone with him.

"I don't...sorry." He touched the back of his head and flashed an apologetic smile.

Anything that could cause you pain or injuries or requires him to use or listen to demeaning language is a no.

His heart is too gentle to even consider taking the light plays into account.

"What is...BDSM?" Sinju asked.

This boy is too pure to even think about doing anything beyond vanilla. Actually, he even has a hard time thinking about doing anything intimate.

"Interesting," Menou smiled and glanced at you with unreadable eyes.

Menou is a fan of roleplaying. He’s an actor, and acting is the most important thing in his life (next to you, of course). Roleplaying means getting to act, so he will be willing to roleplay as anyone.

But if you like anything darker, which doesn’t require Menou to put in too much effort, he will be a little less willing. Though, he does have a dark side, so he may turn all your dreams into reality.

"I see, but unfortunately, I am not interested, especially not in the heavier plays," he frowned slightly.

Maica is a picky man and would be very choosy about what he likes, especially with BDSM. He wouldn’t mind trying some of the lighter plays once, but nothing too heavy.

He wouldn’t go out of his way to try anything BDSM-related though. If you like it, then he will think about trying out the less pain-giving plays.

"You do?" His eyes widen for a second before he flashes a smile, "As do I."

Yakou likes BDSM, namely restraints, temperature play, and sensory deprivation.

His absolute favorite is eating you out with your hands cuffed to the bed and running an ice cube over your body. He's a bit wary of hot temperature play though, so he will choose to avoid that.

Anything that involves torture, whips, choking, or causing too many injuries is a no for him.

He stared at you for a while, wordlessly. "Good for you, but I dislike it."

Mokuren isn't a fan of BDSM and would not be willing to try. If you try to force him, then he will take that as you don’t care about his feelings or opinion.

“Hm? Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow and tapped his chin.

Hari prefers to stay away from BDSM and will not be willing to give into it even if you ask him to, especially if pain is your pleasure.

That concept eludes Hari, but he will be interested to learn why you think that way.

Rather than having s*x with him, you will be stuck trying to explain the way your mind works when it comes to BDSM.

"B...DSM? Oh." Though he chuckled, there was something hidden behind his reaction.

Kasumi is intrigued with BDSM but would not be too willing to try it himself. If you push him a little, then he would open up to the lighter players that don’t require him to unleash his dark side.

“Sorry, my dear. I simply cannot...,” Qu sighed and touched your cheek, “I hope you can understand.”

Qu is not a big fan of BDSM, especially if there is a high chance of leaving mark on the skin. Taking care of the skin is important to him, be it his skin or yours.

He also is uncomfortable with trying out anything that could be considered demeaning, physically or verbally.

A never-before-seen twisted smile appeared on his lips, "Then, we are the same."

Zakuro loves BDSM, especially sub/dom play and discipline. If you're uncomfortable with this, he won't push you but will ask you to try it once.

He has a decent collection of BDSM toys and will want to try everything if you agree. Yes, he has a BDSM dungeon.

If you like the darker plays, no matter how painful they may be, Zakuro will consider accepting your requests.

"Huh? What's that?" Mizuki asked loudly, tilting his head.

He isn’t all too familiar with BDSM, but Mizuki is open-minded to trying almost anything at least once. If you like it, he will give it a try.

Due to his past, he will refuse to do anything that involves hitting you with an item, drawing blood, or injuring you beyond giving bruises.

His favorite is hair pulling, be it you pulling his hair or him pulling your hair.

Kongou quickly averted his eyes and bit his lower lip, "Please don't ask me to do anything..."

Anything BDSM is a big no. Kongou's main fear is that he may hurt you due to his size and strength.

Aside from that, he is too much of a gentle soul to consider taking part in the darker side of lovemaking.

"Oh? Then let's try something you like!" Ran flashed his shark teeth and got an almost crazy look in his eyes.

Ran doesn’t mind roleplaying, and his favorite is idol/fan roleplay. He likes being an idol while you act as the lustful fan, but he also enjoys you pretending to be an idol and performing for him.

Biting…he will not bite you unless you want him to draw blood. If you do like him drawing your blood, then he will gladly leave bite marks all over your body.

Anything darker, he will be curious to try out and will agree to it at least once.

Due to his love for fire, he is interested in trying out hot temperature play.

"I...see..." Heath mumbled and shook his head, indicating that he is not too willing.

Like some of the other men, Heath will avoid anything BDSM-related, unless it’s something on the very light side, like temperature play with ice.

Even then, he is going to worry about possibly giving you ice burns.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Rico whispered, twirling a few strands of your hair on his index finger, "Where would you like to go? My home or yours?"

Rico enjoys BDSM quite a bit and will try anything to a limit, the super heavy stuffy he will avoid though. He needs to make sure his skin is in perfect condition, so he doesn’t want to get injured either.

His favorite is dom/sub, with him being the dom, and humiliation play.

Whether you want him to humiliate you verbally or not, he will end up using that language while he fcks you into the bed.

"What is that?" He asked, looking perplexed.

Just like Sinju, Unei is too pure to even think about BDSM. He doesn’t know what that is and would be permanently scarred if he looked it up.

———————————————

➣ BSTS Masterlist

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arysthaeniru · 3 years

Note

aAAA the joy of seeing an update on your current favorite fanfic is just aAAA

I always felt that kiwami 1s Nishiki was just a bit too,, I dont know how to describe it; but essentially he just felt off, granted yakuza 1 is a product of its time and therefore the plot is a bit dated and whack as all hell

The way you write Nishiki just feels so much better and realistic; in the original he just seems so uncaring towards Kiryu? which just feels kinda OOC? You'd think he still cares about Kiryu despite it all, especially when you take Yakuza 0 into consideration; and i feel like you portray Nishiki much more accurately

I never thought much about Yumi, because honestly, in the original she was kinda just, there? You actually made her a very interesting person! like I'm actually invested in her in your story! (side note you ever think about her clone who got tortued and died? yeah who WAS that???? thats never brought up is it??)

Theres so much more to talk about but in short; This is the best fix it/rewrite of a game plot I have read to date and it brings me joy in my current stressful school life. and no I will not stop praising it or the author, because this work has made me very happy. ;)

I just have a gift for picking favorites that end up dying,,aand another favorite of mine is Mine

imo theres a lack of soft, reassuring Minedai, i just feel like he'd need a reminder that people love him as a person and not just for the money he can provide, even if its obvious

I'd love to see how you'd write them, but I understand if theres more interesting/appealing drabble requests!

- Carp

CARP, thank you for this <3 this is so sweet!!!!! I’m so happy you enjoy my Nishiki! I had fun playing with what Yakuza 0/the Kiwami additions gave us about Nishiki’s personality and outlook on the world, and trying to reconcile that with the plot that Yakuza 1 initially had. Ultimately, I fell on the side that you did: even if Nishiki’s ambition took him down a monstrous path, I don’t think he’s the sort of person who neglects to pay back his debts. And he’s aware of the huge debt he owes Kiryu. Not to mention, their bonds of trust and love vanishing completely because of jealousy felt unreal to me. Their relationship becoming twisted or strange? Yes, but vanishing entirely felt unsatsifying to me.

And Yumi!! I had so much fun excavating her character from the clues we get of her in canon. I worry sometimes, that she’s unrecognizable, because you know, I’ve given her a college education, and a whole bunch of interests beyond hostessing alone, but people seem to like it and like her, which is great!! I hate fridging women characters, so keeping her and Reina alive was important to me, hahaha. (RE: fake!Mizuki, there’s this substory in Kiwami that actually addresses who she was, BUT IT’S EVEN MORE HORRIFYING. So that’s why Yumi in my fic is the one captured and tortured by Nishiki’s men, because the thought of this poor innocent woman getting dragged into the mess was just untenable to me.)

Anyway, thank you for your support and kind words, and I hope you’ll continue to read and that my fic can continue to relieve stress. I--tried to write this about Mine, but Daigo kind of stole the spotlight a little??? I hope you still like it--if not, I will try a ficlet from Mine’s perspective too. I enjoy minedai a lot, but I haven’t had room to think out their dynamic yet, so this took me a while.

Daigo’s no stranger to being desired. He’s attractive, he knows this—his mother’s beauty lives in his veins, and he’s always had the money to look after himself. Fancy soaps to wash his face, the invisible retainers to keep his teeth straight, fancy suits and skin-tight shirts to show off his frame. For all that Kiryu insists his charisma is something that comes from the soul, Daigo knows it wouldn’t be able to draw the sort of attention he does without being attractive.

Which is to say that Daigo’s not especially thrown off by the intensity of Mine’s gaze. It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again. The thing that surprises him is how much he relishes in being seen by Mine.

Maybe it’s because Mine’s an island in a stormy sea, one of the only yakuza his age who’s sensible and level-headed enough to make it big. Maybe it’s because Mine’s gaze is always so reserved, polite, never overly lusty or overstaying its welcome, and Daigo has so rarely been desired so quietly. Or maybe it’s because Majima and Kashiwagi so clearly disapprove of him—Daigo’s always been something of a rebel, and he hasn’t shaken that off, even now he’s in his thirties and is the arbiter of rules for the Tojo Clan.

Daigo can’t quite put a pin on why he’s so comfortable with Mine’s yearning looks, but he’s never been one to hold back when he wants to indulge in something good. Not exactly a hedonist, not by yakuza standards, but Daigo has never kept himself from enjoying life, in the name of some dubious ‘honour.’

Which is why, in an after-hours meeting with Mine, as they eat cheap takeout sushi together, Daigo takes his chance. A momentary slip, the slightest hint of wasabi left at the corners of Mine’s lips and Daigo swoops in, rubs a thumb over the corner of Mine’s lips. Mine stutters to a stop, mid-sentence through a rundown of the real-estate that the Hakuho Clan’s been purchasing up, and stares at Daigo, eyes bewildered.

“Sixth Chairman?” he asks, his voice still remarkably composed.

“Wasabi.” Daigo says, nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing, and sticks his thumb into his mouth, slowly licking it off with a lingering lave of his tongue. He feels a sharp stab of satisfaction as Mine’s eyes turn darker, and his gaze follows Daigo’s hand down.

Daigo straightens up, languidly, and cracks his neck, casually. At this point in the day, he’s untucked his shirt, and he knows that a slight strip of his stomach will be visible when he stretches out his arms towards the ceiling. And as predictably as clockwork, Mine’s gaze darts downwards, to that pale expanse, to catch that brief second of skin. Daigo can’t help but feel warm. Something about being watched by Mine is exhilarating.

“Smoke?” offers Daigo, but as usual, Mine refuses, with a polite shake of his head.

Daigo knows from hearsay that Mine’s something a health-freak, so he’s not entirely surprised. It’s already too late for Daigo to preserve his health—he knows that his liver’s already been pretty ruined from long nights of binge-drinking as a youth, and this job’s too stressful to withhold from vices like smoking and drinking, without an optimal end-goal. So he walks over to the window, cracks it open a little, and lights up.

The breath of nicotine curls over his body, a tender caress, and Daigo feels his shoulders drop, as the relaxation hits. He pulls off his cufflinks, tosses them into his pockets and rolls up his sleeves. He takes it slow, runs his fingers over his skin a little more than strictly necessary. Surreptitiously checking the reflection in the window, Daigo watches Mine watch him, and smirks at how intense that gaze is, how Mine’s mouth has opened, and Daigo can just see the soft pink of his tongue.

“Dojima’s just fine, you know. When it’s just us two.” Daigo says, turning over his shoulder. He smiles, one of those charming smiles that had always gotten him whatever he wanted as a child, “We’re same-aged friends, after all.”

“Dojima-san.” Mine acknowledges, after a brief pause.

Daigo turns around, to properly look at Mine and lifts an eyebrow. “Dojima. Or Daigo, preferably. Dojima-san’s always my father in my head.”

Mine nods, face impassive. Daigo can’t read him like this. Maybe that’s why he likes when Mine stares at him, filled with longing. At least then, Daigo feels like he knows him. In moments like these, his implacable gazes might as well be a brick wall. “Right. Your Father was also in the Tojo Clan.”

Daigo smiles, wryly, and blows out a puff of smoke. “One of the most horrible men I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting—and I had to call him Father. But damn if he wasn’t good at the job.” He sighs and stubs the cigarette out against the ashtray. “...sometimes feel like I’m competing with his dead spirit. Everybody’s looking at me and wondering if this is what my Father would do. Or what Kiryu-san would do.”

“You’re doing better than any of them.” Mine says, immediately, with a vicious ferocity that Daigo wasn’t expecting. He can’t quite stop his eyebrows rising in surprise, and Mine straightens upwards, looking self-conscious immediately. Daigo regrets his instinctual reaction, immediately. “That is to say, Dojima, that I think that you’ve pulled this Clan into somewhere far more respectable. From what I’ve heard of your Father, he didn’t have the temperament to do proper business on this level—too insistent on formal obeisance and unable to be flexible as the times require. And Kiryu-san might be very honourable, but we are yakuza. There are certain things you have to do as a Chairman, that he couldn’t bring himself to do. But you are practical and do what is necessary, while also not overstepping into excessive violence. You are uniquely suited for this job, Dojima.”

...he’s taken aback a little, he can’t deny it. Daigo wonders if his cheeks are colouring, wonders if his obvious shock is offputting, wonders if this is how Mine feels every time Daigo teases him lightly about his obvious attraction. A startling warmth spreads through his chest, and Daigo can’t stop the slight smile that touches his face. Has anybody ever said something so unreservedly kind and measured about Daigo before?

Maybe this is the difference between everybody else’s gazes on him, and Mine’s gaze. It’s based on something more than desire alone. Respect.

Daigo runs a hand over his slicked-back hair and ruffles it free, with a rueful smile, a smile that he couldn’t take away from his face, even if he tried. “I appreciate that. You know I couldn’t do it without you, right?”

He’d never really believed himself capable of attraction to a man like Mine. All of his previous childhood crushes had been on bright, cheerful conversational, pure-hearted people. Daigo had always figured they would balance out his sardonic cynicism. He’d never thought someone as reserved and principled as Mine would ever make his heart flutter. But then, there was something about that deep hunger and passion that Daigo craved. Perhaps it was because he was no longer the gloomy punk of his youth. Maybe his tastes have changed towards tall, dark and handsome. Maybe Mine’s just that special.

“Dojima—” Mine says, clearly trying to refute it, but Daigo cuts him off.

“I mean it. Everybody in this fucking Clan wants me to do something or be somebody else. Kashiwagi-san wants me to be my mother. Majima-san wants me to be Kiryu-san. Everybody else expects my Father. But not you. You deal with me honestly, and with candour, and never hold any expectations against me except success. I appreciate your faith in me.” Daigo takes a couple of steps forward, until his shoes almost brush up against Mine’s own. He leans down over Mine’s chair. “I could not do this without your backing and help. Truly. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone like you in my life. A true friend.”

Mine tilts his chin up to meet Daigo’s gaze, a hungry devotion in his eyes, and Daigo, for a moment, wonders if this is wrong. If he should hold back, like Kiryu would. But Daigo is Daigo, and Mine clearly wants him anyway, so he leans down and kisses him.

Mine’s mouth is velvety smooth and wet and hot and it is oh-so satisfying a feeling to put his hand against Mine’s broad neck and feel his warmth up against Daigo. He pulls back, with a satisfied sigh, and feels the burn of wasabi across his lips, a final parting kick.

#minedai #mine yoshitaka #dojima daigo #spiraling downhill fic tag #yakuza #rgg

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vampmingi · 3 years

Text

mizukis DETAILS (pt1)

one:

you will always see zuki with these necklaces on...well unless she has to take them off for performances. she just thinks they’re really pretty!

two:

she! is! obsessed! with! piercing! her! ears! atiny have honestly lost count...also you will only see zuki in silver as she doesn’t like gold jewellery lol

three:

SHE WILL NEVER TAKE THESE OFF!! seonghwa gave them to her for her 20th birthday aw :) zuki rarely cries but omg she was so emotional! she fell in love with the bracelets they’re so cute,, everyone say thank you seonghwa!

one:

one night zuki + joong where brainstorming tattoo ideas when joong came up with the idea of a moon (zukis name means water moon) zuki LOVED the idea and had joong draw the design,, so the tattoo means a lot to her :(

two:

her version is a little bit smaller and on her left rib. zuki + mingi where both joking about how much she loved spiderman and would probably get a tattoo for it...so she did

three:

this was the first tattoo she ever got (just the butterfly) when atiny noticed it they were speculating if it was real or not because of the odd location but zuki cleared up on a live that it was real

ERAS (hair)

treasure + pirate king:

zuki kept her natural hair colour and always had it up in spacebuns or pigtails during these promotions. THE BOYS (+atiny) THOUGHT SHE LOOKED SO CUTE!!!!

say my name:

‘WHO ARE THE HOT BLODES??!!’ literally everyone on twitter. i guess you could say her + hwa brought in a lot of new atiny

hala hala:

atiny where so suprised when she went red! BUT OMG SHE LOOKS SO GOOD! it was either styled straight or wavy

wave:

at the start of wave era and in the music video she had the blonde with pink but then half way through promotions it got changed to blue,, so cute! but ong atiny are worried for her hair!!

illusion:

this was so fun omg! everyone was OBSESSED! with this hair...no! san did not cry when the colours started fading! not at all!

wonderland:

AGAIN! SHES SO CUTE. in one of their logbooks zuki spoke about how she wanted to look intimidating for this era...but obviously...babie

answer:

yes, she’s cooler than you, get over it....yes she was trending on twitter for 5 days...get over it! one of hongjoong’s personal favs <3

inception:

sumn about silver haired main rappers...yes she’s matching with hwa again! sorry they’re couple of the freaking year (fandom joke lol)

#kpop #ateez #booksbooksbooks #idol!au #imagine #kpop scenarios #kpopidol #hwang yeji #itzy #ateez 9th member #kim hongjoong #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #choi san #kang yeosang #song mingi #park seonghwa #jeong yunho

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media-monster · 4 years

Text

Adressing The Third Gegege no Kitaro Anime

This is something I don’t normally write about, but I thought it would be important to cover considering I just discovered some new information about the show. MASSIVE Trigger Warning: Because this is the third anime, I cover how the series treats its child characters, including Yumeko and Caroline. Be warned.

Among Gegege no Kitaro fans, the third anime is extremely divisive. As an outsider looking in, it seems strange. It has some of the best character designs and animation, introduced a wide variety of characters still used today, and established new ideas into the Gegege no Kitaro lore, such as Kitaro’s ocarina. However, those familiar with the series will tell a different story.

The anime is filled with strange, perverted scenes targeting the young female characters of the series. Yumeko, who was made exclusively for the third anime, gets it the worst. There are scenes of her stripping down, scenes of her naked, scenes of her having her underwear stolen, etc…

Made all the more worse is that the character perpetrating these crimes is Nezumi-Otoko. Nezumi is a major fan favorite, and this side of his character was only introduced for the third series. The manga, written by Shigeru Mizuki, had established that he was a bit of a pervert, but there was never any indication that he preyed on children. Why, then, did this change?

We first must look at Yumeko’s character design. When comparing her to Neko-Musume, the differences are striking. Neko has extremely cartoony, round eyes that are a staple of Mizuki’s work. Yumeko has round, doll like eyes, and looks almost like she was designed for a completely different show!

Nezumi-Otoko rarely preys on Neko-Musume. She is a cat youkai, and her claws and teeth make her a formidable foe. Yumeko, on the other hand, as no such features. She is a normal human girl, giving Nezumi plenty of opportunities to try and do as he pleases with her. The cartoonish, tomboy girl, designed by Mizuki, is free from being perverted by the show. But Yumeko, the doll eyed innocent, has no such luck.

But why Nezumi? We may never know. However, there was quite a trend in 80’s anime of “lovable perverted men” in anime. One of the most famous being Master Roshi. These characters may act vile towards girls, but as the audience, you are forced to forgive them as they serve as an important figure towards the plot. The obscure anime Chikkun Takkun also suffers from this, although it would change from writer to writer. Of course, each writer would have different thoughts on how the character should behave.

Why? Why did Nezumi’s character change so drastically between writers? I have nothing to prove this, but my guess? He was written as a “self-insert” of sorts. Yumeko might have been seen as the “fan-favorite” among staff members, so Nezumi-Otoko’s character was rewritten to serve as a proxy to bridge staff members to interact with the show in a way.

Caroline is a character from a theatrical film based on the third Gegege no Kitaro anime. She is based on a character of the same name from Mizuki’s manga series, although her design has drastically changed. The manga version of Caroline has a strange shaped mouth, with wide eyes and hair tied to a bow. The theatrical version of Caroline is vastly different. She’s now blonde, with the same, doll-like eyes that Yumeko has. She appears even younger than Yumeko, and is voiced by an actual child.

The film is infamous for the scenes between Caroline and Nezumi-Otoko. While in Mizuki’s manga, Caroline is seen as a love interest for Kitaro. The theatrical version changes this. Now, Caroline is changing Nezumi’s wounds, Nezumi is drying her tears… Wait, isn’t this the guy that shouldn’t be around kids? It’s strange, that the film would have you now sympathize with a character who’s debauchery towards minors was seen as comedic until this very moment.

Of course, these are baseless claims. The anime could’ve been just a product of its time. Anime of the 80’s were notorious of having perverted moments, what makes this so different?

Except…

When doing research into the lost “Joka” film, I accidentally discovered a website dedicated to staff members of the Gegege no Kitaro anime. I was taken aback. Everything looked OFFICIAL. Every little detail was put into consideration.

All of the artwork was porn of Kitaro.

My stomach dropped. I didn’t know what to do, so I panicked. I soon discovered that this was the work of a super-fan, who’s name I shall not reveal, as I do not want any of my followers exposed to his content. They had their twitter linked.

This was the breaking point for me. This is what prompted me to write this piece. No longer were these baseless accusations. Staff members on the series participated in drawing porn of Shigeru Mizuki’s underaged characters.

Now then… do I think that the ENTIRE third anime staff is to blame for this? Hardly so. There was a wonderful animated fan film made by the third and fourth animators, titled “Joka”. Yumeko is no where to be seen, and the story focuses on Kitaro, Neko-Musume, and fan favoite among the crew, Jigoku-Doji. From what we know about the film * as it is now lost * even Nezumi-Otoko is given very little screen time. This, and the decision to not include Yumeko, is very intriguing.

I wanted to write this mainly because I’ve had so much on my mind ever since I discovered the third anime series. If this resonates with someone, I’ll be extremely happy. Of course, please know that I won’t knock down anyone for enjoying the third anime! Nezumi-Otoko is my favorite character, and if someone called me disgusting because of his actions in the third anime I’d be absolutely heartbroken.

#gegege no kitaro #spooky kitaro #kitaro #read more #my writing #ask to tag #anime #not lost media

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kimetsu-no-cuties · 4 years

Text

Getsurei: Prolouge

Chihiro grunted as her mama dropped her down onto her futon, her wide and curious eyes watching her movements as she paced around the room. She hastily grabbed different items and stuffed them into a bag. Her confusion shifted to slight fear as she watched her mama grow increasingly more frustrated with trying to shove something else in the bag. Mama let out an inhuman growl when she could no longer force anything inside it, slamming her hands down in defeat.

“Mama, what’s going on?” She questioned, this wasn’t normal.

Mama paused to compose herself, then turned around a sad smile gracing her delicate features. Quietly, she moved to her, settling on her knees with a sigh. Hesitantly she brought her hands up to rest on Chihiro’s face, smoothing over the rough, scaly patches on her cheeks with the pad of her thumb. She took a deep breath, shaking her head at her daughter.

“Oh, Hiro… mama has to leave…” she whispered sadly.

Chihiro shook her head confused, eyebrows furrowing angrily.

“Is it because of those mean people in the village?” She said agitatedly.

Her mama simply shook her head with a little smile, hushing her as she brought her to lie against her chest. One hand ran through her hair while the other ran up and down across her spine, soothing her.

“No, no, it’s not just because of that… Mama has to go to keep you and Papa safe, okay?”

“We’re safest with you,” she shouted in protest, not able to grasp the situation at all.

“Hush, Hiro... “

Chihiro glared at the tatami on the floor quietly, thinking about the circumstance she was under. She didn’t understand why it had to be her mama; why not one of the mean village kid’s mamas? Was this Kami-Sama's way of punishing her for being different?

“It’s not fair,” she finally spoke up with a shaky voice, “why do you have to go?”

Her mother sighed, pulling away to look into her eyes “Mama doesn’t want to go, but life isn’t fair, Chihiro…”

Chihiro looked up at her, those vibrant green eyes that reflected her own filled with pain and sadness. The look was foreign on her Mama’s face -- it was wrong. It made Chihiro’s well up with tears, but she refused to cry, she had to be strong like her Mama.

“Tatsu,” she whispered the nickname, grabbing her attention, “do you know why that’s your nickname?”

Chihiro shook her head, “Uh, because I look like a dragon?”

“Not quite…” Mama chuckled, “it’s because you are strong, much like a dragon, you’ve got tough skin,” she placed her hands on her scale-like markings on her cheeks, rubbing her thumb over them, “well... more like scales, but you’re strong. You’ll be okay without me, you’ve got Papa, Jiji, Baba... even Mizuki to help you.”

She paused, thinking something over before moving her hands to the necklace around her neck. Chihiro had never seen her without it since she had been able to remember. She lifted it off from around her neck, holding it out so Chihiro could admire it closer, the dim lighting of the room glinting off its rough surface.

“Mama…?” Chihiro said quietly.

“This is my family heirloom, my Mama gave it to me and her Mama gave it to her, and so on,” she explained.

“That’s a lot of mamas,” she giggled.

Mama smiled affectionately down at her, “It is… now, I’ve been waiting for a while to give this to you, but I think now would be a perfect time…”

She lifted and placed it carefully around her neck, adjusting it until the moon was perfectly on display.

“When you look at it, know that Mamas there… I’m protecting you, always.”

Chihiro nodded absently, her curious little hands grabbing the necklace - messing up the careful handiwork of her mama as she observed it closely.

The moon was heavy in her hands, very old and scratched up, but still, each little gem in it was beautiful and intact. She wondered how old it was, probably way older than she was. It might’ve been more than thirty years old, that would be very old.

Mama watched her, biting her lip, her sharp teeth drawing a little droplet of blood which she quickly wiped away. She jumped slightly when Chihiro’s sharp eyes suddenly turned to hers - the eyes she got from Mama - the crisp blue-green shocking to see on a human child, especially with such an intense look on her face.

“Don’t forget about me…” she whispered, voice too serious for an eight-year-old.

Her mama stared down at her face, a look Chihiro couldn’t make out - maybe of shock and confusion mixed with sadness. She didn’t have much time to think about it, as she was pulled into a tight embrace where her mother hid her face in her shoulder sobbing quietly. Chihiro didn’t cry - she had to be strong for Mama.

For some reason, she felt like she would see her mama yet again.

A throat clearing pulled her mother apart from her, the kind face of her Papa peeking into the room. His face held the same grief her mothers did, but it seemed he wouldn’t cry - at least not in front of the family.

“You have to leave now if you want to be safe, Ayumu,” he whispered as he approached.

He placed a gentle hand on Chihiro’s head and pulled her into his side, away from her mother. Chihiro curled into him, holding onto his Haori tightly as she watched her mother collect her overstuffed bag. She began to walk away, posture slumped unlike her usual proud and regal appearance, but she stopped to look back at them once more as she stepped outside.

“Hurry,” her father urged, “you’ll be hurt if you don’t.”

She scrunched up her face slightly, angry and sad, but she nodded and turned away - not before saying one last thing.

“Be strong,” she whispered.

Chihiro smiled up at her Papa, who pressed her closer to him with a sigh. Both of them watched as she walked away until her father could no longer see her, though, Chihiro watched her retreat just a bit further before pulling away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“‘Tsushi, Baba, Oba,” Chihiro called out excitedly.

She stumbled her way through the doorway, tripping over her feet a few times before finally landing face-first on the tatami. She groaned loudly, lifting her head slightly and rubbing at her face. She needed to be more careful when she was excited.

A hand reached out in front of her, around the same size as hers, and with that obnoxious laugh, she knew that it was Atsushi offering to help her. He flexed his hand again as if he thought she didn’t see it or something - though she knew he was just trying to get under her skin.

With a little huff she pushed herself up onto her feet, straightening out her kimono as best she could - she still had to look presentable for Baba’s sake. Atsushi chuckled at her, watching as she tried desperately to straighten herself out.

“Need some help,” he asked smugly - he was only two years older than her, but he treated her like a helpless child.

“No, Atsushi, I'm doing great… Besides I highly doubt you could be much help,” she sassed back with a roll of her eyes.

He held his hands up defensively taking a step back, “Okay, okay, I get it, you’re a big girl now. You don’t need big bro ‘Tsushi looking after you anymore.”

She growled at him, though she couldn’t stop the affectionate smile that grew on her face. He was like a brother to her, and despite how annoying he could be she loved him.

“Shut up, Atsushi.”

“Make me.”

“Alright, you two, quit your bickering. It’s already hard enough to live with Atsushi as it is, I don’t need both of you giving me headaches,” her Jiji’s annoyed voice sounded behind her.

She smiled widely, turning to face him with a wild grin just as he opened his arms for her.

“Jiji,” she squealed, throwing herself at him at full speed, both of them stumbling back a little from her force. She heard Atsushi groan a little at the sight -- good, maybe he’ll learn not to bother her.

“Kami-Sama, Tatsu, you’ve not only grown bigger, but you’ve gotten stronger too,” he groaned out humorously.

“Try not to be so rough Hiro, your Jiji is old,” her papa said tiredly behind them, he was always tired.

“Masahao I’d watch that mouth of yours unless you want to be sleeping outside tonight,” Jiji shot back with a little laugh, “besides she’s fine, nothing wrong with my little Tatsu showing off her strength!”

She smiled widely up at him, basking in the praise she was given from her second favorite person in the world - second only to her dear old Baba.

“Yeah, besides Papa, I don’t think I could ever possibly hurt Jiji, he trained in that army place right?” Her father rubbed her head gently, adjusting the strap of their travel bags with the other.

“Just be careful, and don’t hurt anyone too badly okay?”

“Okay, Papa, I’ll be careful,” she assured.

She watched him pass by and walk into the other room, the sudden commotion from the two other women in the house exploding from it as he walked in. She smiled at the noise, happy to be back where she was happiest. Jiji smiled back down at her, rubbing her head affectionately before pulling away to acknowledge her sister who made an appearance at the front door.

“Mizuki, nice to see you again kid,” he said with a small smile.

She nodded, quietly moving onwards past everyone without a word in her usual fashion. Chihiro didn’t like that about Mizuki - well she didn’t really like anything about Mizuki, but her silent disrespect made her angriest - especially when it was toward Jiji.

“I wish she wasn’t like that,” Chihiro grumbled.

“Yeah, not only is it mean, but it’s just annoying,” Atsushi chimed in with his thoughts after his long silence, “not to mention when she does speak it’s mean; it’s like she thinks she’s better than us.”

Jiji sighed, looking between the two kids then at the door conflicted. Chihiro knew he wanted to deny their claims against her sister, but it was hard to do so when he too knew it was the truth. They all knew it was the truth.

He shook his head and shoved Chihiro forward toward the family room, “Come on, let's stop picking on Mizuki and go say hi to your Oba and Baba.”

With a nod, she pulled away and followed after Atsushi, who was already excitedly prancing away. When they reached the room where the rest of the family was she smiled, quietly watching their interactions at the entryway for a moment. Oba was fussing over Papa’s appearance, while Baba quietly spoke with Mizuki.

Her Jiji cleared his throat in annoyance from behind her, drawing all eyes to him “Mikasa leave him alone, he’s not a child, he can fix his own hair.”

Oba pulled her hands away from Papa’s head, a nervous smile on her face as Jiji approached. Chihiro watched the interaction with a smile, happy to see her family acting as they normally did. Every interaction was so casual and comfortable, as it was meant to be.

She stared quietly for a few seconds more, giggling at Jiji smacking Papa upside the head for a smart comment he made - yes things were as they were supposed to be.

“Chihiro,” a quiet shaky voice called, her head turning to attention immediately, “come here, let Baba see you, Tatsu.”

Chihiro smiled and made her way over, pretending not to notice the annoyed look her sister gave her as she walked away. She pulled her arms around Baba’s frail body. Every time she held her it felt as though she somehow got smaller since she last did so - or maybe Chihiro just got bigger.

She gave her a gentle squeeze; not too strong, but not weak enough to make her Baba notice. She had to make a perfect balance to not hurt her physically, but still not weak enough that Baba would notice she was holding back. Baba was never one who liked being underestimated, then again neither was Chihiro.

“My, Tatsu, you’re so strong now,” she said with a laugh pulling away a bit, Chihiro didn’t mention she was hardly using any of her strength.

She placed her hands onto her cheeks, jerking her head around to observe her closely. Chihiro grumbled at the jerky movements but did nothing else as to avoid being reprimanded. For such a frail woman, she was scarier than Jiji when she was angry.

She rubbed at her cheeks, the roughness of her “scales” - as her family called them - setting her at ease somehow. Her Baba chuckled at her, she must’ve been wearing a weird face so she laughed along with her. When the laughter died down, Baba’s face faded to a sad smile.

Chihiro knew what she was thinking, everyone always thought the same thing, but she still had to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, it’s nothing, you just…. look so much more like your Mama every time I see you,” she sighed, “you’re so beautiful… your father is going to have to fight off all the boys in your village.”

Chihiro groaned overdramatically, pulling away from her hands, “Baba quit! You know I’m not interested in boys!”

Baba just smiled knowingly at her, ruffling her hair slightly, “I used to think like that too before I met your Jiji.”

“Ew, Baba, that’s gross,” Chihiro whined, pretending to throw up.

“It’s always gross until you fall in love yourself, Tatsu,” she continued to tease, a smirk on her face that made Chihiro frustrated, “you’ll find someone who you love someday, and then you’ll understand what I mean.”

She groaned once again, both because she was disgusted and she felt a heavyweight on her back -- one that could only be her cousin. She shoved him off her, turning and immediately throwing a fist at his face. He barely dodged it and stumbled back a few times before his back met the ground. Chihiro smirked, ready to jump on top of him, but was stopped by her Baba’s angry voice.

“Chihiro, Atsushi, knock it off this instance,” she yelled angrily, grabbing the attention of the four others in the room.

“Baba, we were just gonna mess around a bit, honest,” Atsushi whined pathetically.

“Yeah, Baba, we were just going to roughhouse a bit that’s all, we’ve done it since we were little,” she defended - also not wanting to get in trouble.

“You two aren’t five anymore, you’re a young boy and lady it’s not appropriate for you to do things like that,” she scolded.

Chihiro was about to retort, not understanding why it was wrong to have a little fun with her cousin -- they used to do this all the time just a year ago -- when her Oba stepped in.

“Now now, Kaa-san, let the kids have a little fun they won’t be this youthful for that much longer, you know,” she said, gently helping Atsushi onto her feet and smoothing out his hair.

“They need to learn to act like proper civilized men and women as soon as possible, it isn’t right to have them roughing around with each other,” Baba retorted, to which her Oba merely hushed her.

She turned her gaze away from Baba and to the two children next to her - Atsushi her son, and Chihiro her niece. Chihiro watched her carefully, Oba’s eyes widening a little when they met her bright ones, gaze softening slightly after a moment. Out of everyone in the family, Oba was the one person who she couldn’t seem to read like the others.

As if Oba knew what she was thinking, she gave her a subtle wink - something that she always did when Chihiro stared at her so attentively.

“Now, why don’t you kids go out with Masahao and Jiji to get something sweet for later tonight… Baba and I will cook dinner in the meantime,” she turned behind her to Mizuki, “that includes you Mizu, have a little fun, okay?”

Atsushi immediately started shoving Chihiro out of the room excitedly, chanting ‘free treats’. Oba must not let him have sweets often, she could see why. Though Chihiro was excited as well, she didn’t miss her sister watching the both of them with annoyance as she followed them out - nor did she miss the side glance she gave Oba.

“Alright, Atsushi, shut your mouth,” Jiji snapped, pulling Chihiro out of her daze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group had been out much later than she thought they would be initially, the sun beginning to set over the horizon. She couldn’t complain, she never really got to go out due to her skin condition, so being out in the village -- albeit small in size -- was more than she could ask for. She even met a kind boy around her age who was selling coal, she didn’t catch his name, but she recalled finding him cute. She also met the girl Atsushi always gushed about when they visited, and she decided she was way too good for her cousin.

It was fun; the most fun she’d had in her entire life. Still, she had to go back home at some point, and that’s what she was doing. Holding onto the bag of sweets she and Atsushi picked out, resisting the urge to devour everything inside it by staring straight ahead and trying not to think of it.

She focused carefully at the distant scenery until her Oba’s home came into view, which caused her to pause. It was wrong. The door to her Oba’s home was completely torn apart, thrown away from where it was and in pieces on the ground. Inside she could just hardly see some broken pots and things strewn about - like there might have been a struggle. She could tell just from that alone there was something wrong - something had happened.

The adults didn’t seem to notice it, or maybe they couldn’t see it yet, she always had impeccable vision compared to everyone else she knew. Other than her Mama of course, but that wasn’t something she should be concerned with now. She needed to make the adults aware of the situation.

“Papa,” she said, tugging on his pants to get his full attention.

“Yes, Hiro,” he looked down at her, an affectionate smile on his face - the happiest she’d seen him in a while.

How she hoped that she was wrong, just this once, for Papa.

“I think something happened...”

He stared at her for a long moment, then looked up at the house, his face twisting in confusion. He must’ve just noticed the open door. He pulled her a little closer to his body, which did little to soothe her worries, but she appreciated it.

“I wonder,” he said quietly, “how about we get Jiji to go ahead and see what happened, and I’ll take the three of you somewhere else while he checks - would that make you feel a bit better?”

She nodded, gripping his shirt tightly. The last time he held her like this was when Mama left. She hoped she would see Baba and Oba again.

“Tou-san, would you go ahead and check up on the house please, Hiro’s a little worried.”

Jiji paused and looked back at them, about to come up with a retort, but snapped his mouth shut when his eyes met with Chihiro’s. He sucked in a quick breath before he nodded and turned away leaving the four of them behind as he hurried to the house.

Mizuki and Atushi turned back to look at the two of them, confused and a bit shaken at Jiji’s reaction.

“Obon, what’s going on…” Atsushi worried.

Papa shook his head, ruffling Atsushi’s hair with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s nothing… now… who wants to go back to town and get some more sweets?”

“Won’t Kaa-san be mad,” Atsushi asked, eyes wide but hopeful.

“It’ll be our little secret,” Papa said, placing a finger against his lips, ushering him away quickly.

He looked back when neither Chihiro or her sister moved, but Mizuki merely waved him off -- seems she wanted to talk.

They stood next to each other quietly for a few moments, the tension thick in the air. They were never alone together, not even at home, they always avoided each other as much as possible. Now she couldn’t avoid her sister, and she knew Mizuki knew that too.

Chihiro nearly spoke, but Mizuki beat her to it, “We both know something bad happened, something really bad.”

She nodded, “Y-you think someone was mad at Jiji or something?”

“I think it was demons,” Mizuki said blankly, not a drop of humor or emotion in her voice.

Chihiro stared up at her, trying to discern if that was a joke or not. Demons weren’t real, they were just part of scary stories her family used to scare them away from misbehaving. If that was so, why was her sister saying that? It couldn’t be a joke, she never joked about anything, especially not with Chiro. So what was she talking about?

“Don’t overthink it, it makes your head hurt…” she looked up to the house, “you should probably go check up on them, I know you want to.”

What? Was Mizuki being… considerate?

“Don’t think this means I like you, I don’t, I just know what’s best for my family,” she said quietly.

The confirmation of her hatred kind of stung, but Chihiro didn’t have time to think about that too much. She turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could, kicking up dirt and rocks with each step until she finally made it to the house - faster than she thought she ever could. Her feet stumbled over the tatami, slamming into the wall roughly before she could catch her balance.

“Jiji, Baba, Oba,” she called out, voice strained with worry.

No reply, just silence. She called out again, this time a bit louder and a bit more desperate. Her eyes took the time to scan the area carefully while she waited tensely, noting the broken vases and furniture. Signs of a struggle, but nothing more than signs.

She sniffed, the air was thick with the smell of iron and ash that nearly suffocated her. The smell, combined with the tenseness of waiting silently for something that maybe never come, made her nauseous. She was sure she would’ve fallen over dead had she not heard the smallest noises - just the gentle shifting of clothes, something easily missed if she was not listening for it.

She stood silently for another few moments, waiting for another noise - another indication of life. After getting nothing once again, she let out a silent huff, deciding to just find out who was in here; to find out what happened to her family.

She wishes she hadn’t.

Stepping into the family room, the stench of blood and ash was stronger -- more suffocating than before. It made her dizzy enough to feel her head spin, to make her close her eyes for a moment to recover. When she opened them she finally noticed the ruin the room was in. The walls, the floors, the ceiling all cut and broken; torn and smashed apart by an inhuman force; in shambles. Then she looked straight ahead, and nausea returned in full force like a kick to her gut.

There, sitting in front of her, Jiji was cradling a body -- Baba’s body. Oba’s lied near the entrance to the kitchen, her guts torn out and exposed for Chihiro to see. She couldn’t see the state of Baba’s, but she could easily assume it was no better. Next to all of this, glinting dangerously in the afternoon light, a sword of some sort.

Her body shook violently, face paling as she took in everything in front of her. Her family -- her life all dead in front of her. Taken by the man who she trusted with her life -- she didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was clear, even if she knew that it didn’t fully make logical sense. She was going to die, she was going to die in his hands. Her Jiji was going to kill her.

A sob ripped through her body, at the realization, loud and clear in the silent room. She froze, she hadn’t meant to be so loud. She might’ve been able to get away safely had she stayed silent, but the sound snapped Jiji out of whatever trance he was in, his head whipping around to face her and his hand grabbing onto the sword. His eyes were wild and lit up with an emotion she’d never seen on his face before.

He looked crazed with anger.

She stumbled back, tripping over her feet and falling hard onto her back. She wasn’t ready to die, she didn’t want to die, she reminded herself as she forced her feet to keep pushing back away from him. She moved until she hit the destroyed wall, squeezing up into herself until it was painful.

Her mind at war, the clear evidence that he had killed her not matching up with the already destroyed home she saw earlier. He couldn’t have done this when he was with her, she tried to rationalize, but her body still kept moving back from him.

She kicked at his hands when they touched her, screaming at him to stop. Though she wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt her, and it was all some misunderstanding. She wondered if this fear was what Baba and Oba felt -- overwhelmed and scared knowing the inevitability of death by their beloved’s hands was coming. She sucked in a breath, still pushing and screaming even as his arms wrapped around her tightly.

“Tatsu,” his stern voice called, but she just screamed; she refused to listen.

“Tatsu,” again, “Tatsu calm down, you’re fine.”

She screamed again, punching and pushing as hard as she could against him. She couldn’t go without a fight.

“Chihiro,” he said sternly, making her freeze in her actions on impulse -- her mind almost trained to stop at his tone.

“I’m not going to hurt you, now calm down you’ll suffocate if you don’t,” he eased, pulling her into his lap as she finally relaxed.

He held her like that for longer than she knew, she wondered if Papa noticed she was gone. If ‘Tsushi was worried about her… maybe they were coming back for her right now. Who knew? Her sobs died down into little sniffles and she allowed herself to relax fully into his arms, knowing full well she would never be able to escape him anyway.

“Jiji,” she mustered, “w-what… what happened to…?”

She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know, but she had to ask. She had to get confirmation from his mouth, not just from her eyes.

He pulled her back, face gravely serious as he looked down at her. His gaze bearing into her and making her feel even more uneasy. She was sure this was it, this was where he would kill her -- yet she still found the time to wonder if the rest of her family was enjoying their time in town, or if they were searching for her.

“Tatsu,” he said seriously, gripping her arms tightly, and she said her last prayer, “do you believe in demons?”

“What…?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Prolouge End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey! Uh yeah I wrote this thing... it’s not good... it’s actually bad so. Anyway, I’ve worked for several months on this, and I saw a few people encouraging me to post it... so I did. I guess you can sort of see this as a trial run for the fic. Anyway I hope it was good, cause it’s 4K+ words and by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and I worked really hard on it... hahaha...

#kny x oc #kny oc #rivers ocs #oc #chihiro tachibana #tanjirou x oc #origin story #demon slayer x oc #tanjirou kamado #kamado tanjirou #demon slayer #kny

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thefreckledone · 5 years

Text

Satori (Between the Lines) - Part 17

Sakura nestles back into the mountain of cushions that surround her, trying to find a comfortable position. She knows herself well enough to know that she won’t be moving for at least a few hours; this always happens when she gets engrossed in a good book.

And though she’s never read it, The Diaspora of Uzushio promises to be a good read.

After all, every book that’s shown up in her box at the Academy proves excellent. She’s yet to discover the culprit, despite the rudimentary traps (Mizuki-sensei prevented her from using stronger ones, though he also graciously chose not to ask questions) she placed. The traps were disturbed though, taken apart and reassembled with something of a clumsy hand.

Sakura wonders if her patron is teasing her.

Still, she chooses not to get Ino, Shino, or Torune involved in trying to catch the person; after all, the donor is giving her support. Although her curiosity burns, hot and visceral, Sakura doesn’t want to chase them away.

So she keeps at this little game of tigers and lambs, appreciative of the clear thoughtfulness of whoever her anonymous patron is.

For the time being, Sakura shoves her curiosity aside and settles her attention on the book. It’s a newer book than most that Sakura’s been given, the binding on it crisp and tight. It appears to be nearly unused and Sakura traces a finger over the gold leaf that forms a spiral on the spine. It looks strangely familiar…

Sakura shakes off the odd sensation of deja vu when nothing comes to mind, instead gingerly opening the book.

The strong scent of sandalwood wafts from the book and Sakura pauses, brows puckering. She’s never come across a book, especially a new one like this, with such a strong scent.

“What are you doing, Sakura?”

Sakura closes the book, looking up at Torune with a smile. “Reading,” she says. “Well,” she amends ruefully. “Preparing to read.”

Torune frowns, throwing his arms wide. “But this is your first night here! I thought it would be special.”

Sakura raises her eyebrows at him, amused. He’s really cute when he pouts. “What did you have on your schedule for this evening?”

“How does one make a night ‘special?’” Shino asks, stepping into the room. “Does it require specific activities? Is there a spectrum of specialness?”

“I’m being serious,” Torune says, sprawling out on the cushions beside Sakura. “Your teasing wounds me.” His smile belies that statement as he ruffles Sakura’s hair. “It’s our first sleepover; I wanted to do something fun.”

Sakura reaches up, catching his hand both to stop him from messing up her hair and to offer her support. Torune melts into the cushions, his weight drawing him closer to Sakura.

Torune lets out a yelp as Shino drops across him, the breath knocked from his chest. The moment he’s able to breathe again, he elbows Shino, rolling out from under him all while keeping a hold of Sakura’s hand. Torune grabs a cushion in his free hand, launching it into Shino’s face.

All three fall silent and still for a moment, just watching each other. Then Sakura devolves into helpless giggles, clutching the book close to her chest. Torune and Shino watch her for a long moment before exchanging a wordless look. Torune tugs Sakura toward and behind him even as he lifts a cushion to shield himself. Shino arms himself with cushions, demanding to know if this was “special enough” for Torune.

Sakura wriggles free from the fray for a few moments to tuck The Diaspora of Uzushio away in a safe place. In those scant seconds, the Aburame boys desecrate her reading mountain, utilizing the cushions as ammunition. Sakura cannot find it in herself to feel irritated, especially considering the wide grins both of them sport.

She picks up a few stray cushions, considering their heft and making quick mental calculations about their flight trajectory (a feat made much easier given Ino’s thorough weaponry instruction). Sakura eyes the boys for a long moment, smirking as she realizes just how defenseless they’ve left themselves to her in their focus on decimating each other.

Perfect.

Sakura throws the cushions overhand, watching eagerly as they sail into Torune and Shino at nearly the same time. Both of them jump, startled, before rounding on Sakura with mouths agape.

Sakura laughs, almost doubling over with the force of it. Their expressions are just too funny.

She still has enough presence of mind to drop to the floor when they retaliate, the cushions flying harmlessly above Sakura’s prone body.

The room falls silent for a moment as Sakura raises her head to meet their gazes.

She’s never found them quite so foreboding before.

“Mercy?” Sakura asks, cocking her head to the side with a pleading look in her eyes.

“Oh Sakura,” Shino tuts, shaking his head as he lifts a cushion.

“You know that the Aburame hold grudges,” Torune finishes with a matching, menacing grin.

Sakura squirms, planting her hands on the floor to leverage herself into a roll away from them. She’s hit with their cushions, but it puts her into a more defensible position. She sniffs at them, eyes sparkling in the face of a new challenge. “I’ll have you know that the Haruno are much the same.” She takes a cushion, aiming it at Torune. “We just don’t play fair.” She throws it at him, putting a bit of chakra behind the strength of her throw.

0“Can you believe oji-san kicked us out?” Shino asks. “This late at night?”

Torune snorts. “Oji-san kicks me out all the time in the evening when I get too ‘restless.’ He likes his sleep.”

“But we’re children!” Shino says, aghast.

“Who attend the Academy,” Sakura chimes in.

“And we’re staying on Aburame land,” Torune says. From his tone, Sakura is positive that he’s rolling his eyes. “We’re staying in the backyard. Seriously Shino, I think you’re the only person who would complain about their parents making them leave the house.”

“Not true. Why? Consider the case of Nara Shikamaru,” Shino argues, crossing his arms.

Sakura ignores their back-and-forth bickering, training her eyes on the sky above. Her home is in the middle of the merchant district and artificial lights line the street. It makes her feel safe whenever she walks the streets at night. However, it does obscure her view of the night sky. She’d no idea that there were quite so many in the sky; that she could see them this clearly.

Sakura hardly notices when Torune grabs her hand, offering her subtle guidance without drawing her attention away from the stars. Honestly, it isn’t until he’s gently guiding her into a sitting position that Sakura realizes that they’ve walked a good distance from their house, flouting Shibi-oji’s words. They’re on the rise of a hill, the gentle slope giving them a better view to the property and sky above.

“This isn’t the backyard,” she says, voice a bit dry.

“Sure it is,” Torune says easily, seating himself right beside her. “It’s still on the Aburame property. Since oji-san is the clan head, the whole property falls under his purview, making this our backyard.”

Sakura exchanges a look with Shino, catching the way his eyebrows rise above his sunglasses. She snorts, descending into laughter as Shino shakes his head.

“This is why otou-san won’t let you go to the Academy; you’ll drive the teachers to insanity in the first week,” Shino says.

“Oh whatever,” Torune says. “I’ll be going to the Academy at the start of the next term. The teachers will love me.”

“Not as much as they love Sakura,” Shino says dryly.

“Well Sakura is a teacher’s dream,” Torune says.

“Stop,” Sakura says, nudging him with her elbow. She can feel a flush fill her cheeks. “Don’t be mean.”

“Just stating the truth,” Torune says, but he subsides, turning his gaze upward.

Sakura lays out on her back, the grass tickling the back of her neck. It makes it much easier to stare at the stars without straining her neck. There’s a soft thump as Torune situates himself beside her. A rasp of fabric and the feel of warmth at the top of her head draw her notice and she shifts, noticing Shino sprawled directly across from her. He smiles at her, taking her free hand.

They lay in silence for a while, hands entangled, just watching the clear sky.

“Huh,” Torune says, breaking the quiet.

“What?” Shino grouses, voice rough with sleep. Sakura wouldn’t be surprised if he was sleeping.

“I’ve never realized how beautiful the stars are,” Torune says.

Shino doesn’t respond for a while. “Yeah,” he says. “They remind me of Sakura.”

That catches Sakura’s attention. “How so?”

“They, uh, remind me of your freckles,” Shino says, sounding embarrassed. “It’s like stars on your skin.”

Sakura flushes, chagrined but pleased by the compliment. She doesn’t love her freckles, they set her apart from most of her classmates. It’s something common in people in Iron, but in Konoha? Not so much. Her freckles aren’t often a source of cruel remarks, there are easier things to pick apart instead, but she’s never been proud of them.

“Thanks Shino.” Sakura squeezes Shino’s hand, turning her attention back to the stars.

She thinks that, perhaps, she can come to love her freckles.

If only for her love of stars.

0“What do you know about cryptanalysis?” Jiraiya asks as he fiddles with a handheld box puzzle.

Sakura’s noticed that Jiraiya finds it difficult to sit still; he always occupies his hands with something. It makes Sakura wonder how he came to the position of Spymaster; a decent portion of his job consists of deskwork. Then again, this may explain his decision to “wander” outside of Konoha, diving into the applied side of a Spymaster’s job. Thanks to this inability to stay put, Jiraiya has an extensive web of informants across different nations, all of whom send him tidbits and updates that may or may not be an asset to Konoha. And it’s his duty to figure out the importance of each of the messages.

Up until this point, Jiraiya avoided the deskwork, spending his time elsewhere. Now though, Konoha has called its erstwhile son home and he’s making up for lost time; plowing through decades of backlogged documents and information.

Sakura thinks he hates it, but he does it well.

“Cryptanalysis refers to the actual analysis of ciphers; the process of trying to uncover the hidden systems,” Sakura says.

She knows the definition sounds stiff and formal, but she figures it’s best to start there. She still isn’t sure where she stands with Jiraiya; he’s officially declared her his apprentice with all the benefits and costs that entails. He’s put himself out there for her and she knows she hasn’t yet proved herself to him.

And she’s desperate to show him that his decision isn’t a poor one; that she’s a good decision.

Jiraiya glances up at her, hands still shifting over the cube. “Yes,” he says. “What experience do you have in actually doing cryptanalysis?”

“Not much,” Sakura says honestly. “I’ve had experience with recognizing and cracking substitution and transposition ciphers. I’ve developed a few myself, utilizing scytales with my friends. But most of my training has been geared around language analysis. And some has delved into historical and cultural influences.”

“That’s good,” Jiraiya says. Sakura fights not to preen at the positive response. “You need a strong foundation to really delve into cryptanalysis. I know you had a semi-formal arrangement with Shikaku; regardless of how it ended, he set you on the right track.”

Sakura nods, ducking her head. Even though it ended painfully, she does appreciate the way Shikaku introduced her into this new world of cryptography and ciphers. Maybe one day, when it isn’t so raw and visceral, she will tell him, thank him for what he did.

“However, I do disagree with some of Shikaku’s teaching philosophy. He’s a rather cautious individual; he wanted to give you the breadth of literature so that you could assess every influence on a cipher. That’s not exactly wrong; however, I do not think you can truly grasp cryptography until you get into the more applied side. So, I think the best place for this apprenticeship to start is with cryptanalysis. Still, keep up all your...extracurricular reading.” There’s a gleam of amusement in his eyes and Sakura wonders if he’s remembering their first encounter. “It’ll help embed each individual cipher within its context.”

“Makes sense to me,” Sakura says as a thrum of excitement runs through her.

“So to start, as you said, cryptanalysis is the process of figuring out a cipher. There are two main approaches. The first, which you’ve had the most experience with, is solving the key to the cipher. For substitution ciphers, that means figuring out the process involved in the substitution.”

Sakura nods. “And the second?”

Jiraiya smirks, hands stilling over the puzzle box. “You break the system.”

Sakura stares at him, wide-eyed, as goosebumps rise on her neck. One question fills her mind. “How?’

“Well,” Jiraiya says, leaning back in his chair. “To break the system, you have to know the system. How are ciphers developed?”

Sakura’s brows furrow as she contemplates his question. She considers what she knows about cryptography, all of the language and cultural influences that inform the development. It all boils down to one thing really.

“They’re developed by people,” Sakura says. “The developer is the system.”

Jiraiya’s triumphant grin verges on manic. “Exactly. To break the system, you have to break the developer.”

Sakura’s mind flashes to T&I, to Ibiki and Anko’s job. She blanches, knowing that she is nowhere near ready to try something similar. “Are you speaking metaphorically or literally?”

“Metaphorically,” Jiraiya says with a snort. “I suppose I should’ve considered how closely you’ve worked with Torture & Interrogation. Those particular skills aren’t required for this sort of breaking...consider it in a similar vein to cracking a specific code. When you are breaking the system, you try to suss out the creator of the system.

“From there, it’s all too easy to break the system,” Jiraiya says. “You consider their background, their values, their heritage...why are these important?”

“Because understanding where the creator came from will allow us to figure out the influences that played into the cipher,” Sakura says. “A cipher contains the developer’s unique signature, even if they try to hide it.”

“All people have their own biases,” Jiraiya adds. “The thing is, it’s often hard to recognize those biases in ourselves. Now, say you stumbled across a cipher of mine and connected it to me, what would your next steps be?”

“Well, I know you’re from Konoha, however, you’ve also traveled around most of the elemental nations and even beyond. So while you might be more influenced by Konoha culture, you’ve been exposed to many others,” Sakura says, looking to Jiraiya for support. He nods, only smiling a bit to indicate she’s moving in the right direction. “So it would be easier for you to mask those cultural influences or at least mix them together.

“The other major thing that I know about you that could be useful is that you write novels,” Sakura continues. “I would want to compare the cipher with your writing and see if you utilize some sort of book cipher.”

“Very good start,” Jiraiya praises. “Indeed, I do have a proclivity toward utilizing book ciphers. Really, just more literature-based ciphers in general, because it’s an area I have quite a bit of knowledge in. By knowing the developer, you can know your cipher.”

“But how do you figure out the developer?” Sakura asks, thoughts swirling around the cipher she’s yet to crack. “If you have the cipher but no idea you created it?”

Jiraiya’s smile takes on an added edge. “Well, that’s where the fun begins. This is where you begin sleuthing; where did you find the cipher? What condition was it in? Are there any identifiers on the cipher itself?” He stands, still messing with the cube. “It helps to have an intensive spy network that can suss out some of the information. C’mon, we’re going to get you some practical experience.”

“Practical?” Sakura repeats.

“I planted a cipher in the library. You must find it and determine who read it,” Jiraiya says.

Sakura blinks, staring up at him with a mix of fear and excitement. The excitement is winning out. “What are the parameters of this assignment?”

“Parameters?” It’s Jiraiya’s turn to blink before he bursts into laughter. “Alright. Sure. Let’s make this official. I’ll give you a week. Track down the cipher, figure out the developer, and crack the code. Easy right? We’ll meet back here a week from today.” He ruffles her hair. “See you then, kid.”

Jiraiya leaves the room, leaving Sakura slightly out of sorts. Sakura looks around, catching sight of the completed puzzle box placed on his desk. She picks it up and considers it before pocketing it.

Jiraiya definitely has a different mentorship style than Sakura is used to. Still, she doesn’t dislike it.

In fact, as she leaves his small office, the buzz of exhilaration in the pit of her stomach, Sakura thinks she likes it. At the very least, she enjoys the challenge.

She only hopes she can meet his expectations.

0They’re outside for lunch when it happens.

Sakura sits beneath her favorite tree, eating lunch with Shino, Torune, and Ino, as they discuss life and the katas that they’re currently learning. They bandy about their codenames, enjoying the inside secrets they share. It’s silly and lighthearted, but Sakura loves it.

It is as Sakura is halfway through eating her bento box, lovingly prepared by Shibi-oji that a yell rings out.

Their conversation immediately peters away as they hop to their feet, looking around for the source. Down the hill from where they are, they see several upperclassmen surrounding Chōji. Sakura frowns, taking in the aggressive postures of the older students and the way Chōji hunches a bit.

“Has Chōji had a problem with bullying?” Sakura asks, already starting down the hill.

“When he was younger,” Ino replies, face a storm. “I didn’t realize it was still an issue.”

Her tone implies it won’t be for long.

Sakura sees Shikamaru leap down from the tree he was perched in, approaching the group around Chōji with a fierce scowl twisting his face. It’s a look similar to the one he directed at her during their game and before her fall and Sakura’s footsteps falter for a moment before she presses forward. The look is different from any he’s directed her way; it’s far more intense and fueled with vitriol.

However, neither Sakura’s group nor Shikamaru are the first to make it to Chōji’s side.

“Leave him alone!” Naruto bellows, placing himself in front of Chōji and spreading his arms.

One of the students, seemingly the leader of the group of bullies, takes a step back, revulsion and fear crossing her face. She firms her stance though, wanting to save face before her posse, as she crosses her arms. “And what are you going to do about it? You’re nobody!”

Naruto draws himself up, staring at her in challenge. Sakura is a bit surprised that he doesn’t immediately leap to fighting her; it’s Naruto’s general MO. Instead, he cocks his head to the side and scoffs.

“I might be nobody, but the same goes for you. What type of fool decides to bully the heir to one of the Four Noble Clans of Konoha?” Naruto asks, blue eyes blazing. Sakura slows, staying nearby but waiting for Naruto to finish. “Your years at the Academy are meant to forge connections with those who will one day be your comrades. Yet you treat the heir to the Akimichi like this? Even if you graduate, you won’t make it very far.”

The girl pales as Naruto connects the dots for her. “I…”

“He’s right,” Shikamaru drawls. “The Akimichi have established connections with many other clans. Would any of those clans choose to stand with you rather than the Akimichi?” His dark eyes glitter. “The Nara certainly won’t.”

“Neither will the Yamanaka,” Ino says, coming up beside Chōji and placing a hand on his shoulder. She eyes each of the bullies in turn. “You know, the Yamanaka have pretty good memory skills; I wonder if I’ll remember you when I inherit?”

Some of the students draw away from the ringleader.

Shino and Torune do not add anything to the conversation, allowing their mere presence at Chōji’s side to fill in the gaps.

“I may not be from a clan that matters, but the Uzumaki will remember as well,” Naruto says. “I suggest leaving before you further sabotage your future careers.”

“If you even make it that far,” Shikamaru adds.

The bullies leave and Naruto immediately turns to Chōji.

“Are you alright?” Naruto asks, touching Chōji’s shoulder.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak aloud. He’s surprised that so many people stuck up for him. He expected Shikamaru, but for Naruto, Ino, Sakura, Shino, and Torune to do the same…

Well, it makes him realize he has more friends than he knew.

And the first to stand up for him was Naruto, the boy that his father has all but adopted. The boy who offers his friendship to Chōji unconditionally. The boy who does not mind Chōji’s shyness or other proclivities.

The boy that Chōji would be glad to call a brother.

Chōji leans forward, wrapping his arms around Naruto in a tight hug. “Thank you,” he says, trying to put all of his emotions into it.

From the way Naruto embraces him in turn, soft, tentative but warm, Chōji thinks he understands.

#satori (between the lines)#sakura haruno #torune aburame #shino aburame #jiraiya #my fic

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