glowing rivers ;;

I don't know if you're alive or dead. / Can you be found on the earth, / Or only when the sunsets fade / Be mourned serenely in my thought

[kavvaakari]

All that I am tonight hangs by a thread / as I wait for her, whom none can command. / Whatever it is I cherish most among youth, freedom, and glory / doesn't compare to my treasured friend.

And Look! She comes ... she tosses back her veil / staring me down, serene with without pity / I ask of her: Was it you who dictated the pages of Hell?

She answers: I am the one.

RULES - MUSES

[arianna-sama]

the curse of being a known mokuton user

[ereawrites]

bad week. need to be dicked down by an uchiha

[kuma-hayate]

陆续发一点之前画的。

[loveoaths]

saw a black dog on my way home today, thought of sai. // @mononoavvare 

[bluntforceheadtrauma]

commission for @icecurse !!! sai and haku goofing off ^_^ ive actually never drawn these two before

[loveoaths]

@mononoavvare happy bday to me u fuck

[unmeikatte]

[stare.] sender forces receiver to maintain eye contact. / Offering this but ☝️ pretend I sent this from sai and we are doing this challenge mode

@kavvaakari

A classic spar. A test of strength, agility, and raw skill. That’s what this started out as. Another preplanned sparring session, meant on testing Sai’s taijutsu – and Neji’s teaching, in a way. If Sai was able to keep up with him, at all, then it was a sign that both of them were improving.

Sai wasn’t weak in taijutsu – he was just average. Mediocre. Passable. Neji, on the other hand, was a prodigy. He had been training in taijutsu since he was old enough to develop the hand-eye coordination required for it. There was a reason why these two had been paired up for these teaching exercises. Complementary skill sets. And Neji wonders if it had something to do with their temperaments.

Sai was polite and quiet but blunt. Neji appreciated bluntness in conversation. Too little directness could lead to all sorts of misunderstandings. Even when Sai’s bluntness appeared to have little regard for normal social cues – such as telling Neji, upon meeting him, that he would be a beautiful woman or that he had womanly hips. Neji could pretend that never happened. It didn’t take him long to figure out what Sai’s social abilities were coming from books – and observing others closely.

He wonders if that’s part of how they got into this.

Sai was currently pinned to the ground underneath him. Neji had been trying to utilize a typical judo hold, the tate shiho gatame position. He grabbed Sai by the arm and shoulder, forcing him down to his knees before swiping a foot over him and giving himself the dominant, upper hand position.

He secured himself above Sai, pinning his legs down with his, then using his elbows to pin down Sai’s arms. He could feel Sai’s chest rising and lowering as he breathed. Struggled against him, trying to find a way out from under him. Sai wasn’t weak by any definition. But Neji was, simply put, stronger.

He remembered the light that went off in Tenten’s eyes. The moment she wrapped her legs around his waist and stopped resisting the hold. Her legs pulling him down and lifting herself up. He remembers the warmth of being between her legs, the sensation of feeling her body underneath his. Burning hot, sweaty, and breathing heavily from their sparring. Neji pretended not to notice. Perhaps, she was merely trying to flip them over – a typical response to a hold in judo. But when she didn’t – and her hips started grinding, moving along his. Soft to the touch.

Neji was snapped back into the reality of Sai underneath him. He had given up struggling under him. There was no reason to struggle. Neji had his full weight on him, keeping him tucked against the floor. The judo holds weren’t unlike the holds in juken, which mainly prioritized the circular motion of the take down over judo’s brute force. But once on the ground, holding their opponents was similar enough.

Neji propped himself up, moving his hands to Sai’s collar bones, holding them splayed across his upper chest to keep him down. Another judo hold – a modified scarf hold. He had stopped holding his legs down with his, choosing instead to have his knees on either side of Sai’s hips.

Sai’s face had an unreadable expression on it. It was difficult for Neji to understand what he was feeling. That training that Sai received was effective. But even with all the training in the world, there were physical reactions that the body could not hide or suppress. Instinctive, millisecond reactions. Or flow of blood to certain areas. Neji saw the flash of Sai’s eyes widening, the fraction of a second glance at where he sat on him.

And the unmistakable growing warmth of his body.

It felt just like hers. Tenten was on top of him, hands pressed to his stomach. Her hair, normally kept neat in her buns, was loose and falling over her shoulders. And Neji didn’t care about the sacred space of the dojo for that moment. Every inch of her skin felt consecrated.

Neji felt a hand settle on his jaw, two fingers moving to gentle grasp his chin. Sai was forcing him to look at him, pulling him out of the memory of Tenten. He glanced over Sai’s face; his stark white skin, dark eyes which carried something he had never thought he would see in them.

His eyes scaled down his jaw, his neck, to where Neji’s hands were still sitting on his chest. Down further, to where he was still sitting firmly on his waist. Sai’s fingers were still gently touching his skin.

He slowly moved back, ever so slightly. He could feel it now, the warmth, the tension, the way that Sai also seemed to stop breathing. Was this what he had been like? Waiting so trepidatiously.

He gave an experimental rock of his hips. Once, then twice. He half expected Sai to lean his head back against the mat. But instead – he pulled Neji’s chin down. Their eyes locked as Sai’s met his in a stare. Neji remembered how Tenten’s eyes had looked – heavy lidded and so, so needy. Once he was over her, her legs lifted to his side, how she closed her eyes when he entered her body. Then the shining brown eyes once again looking up at him, a breathy laugh on her lips.

He had not noticed when he had started to move his hips against Sai’s again. He was called back by Sai’s fingers toying at his bottom lip. He gave the smallest, lightest of nips to Sai’s fingertips – who returned it by pushing his fingers past his lips. There was hesitation in his movements. But Neji understood – he hoped. He gave Sai’s fingers in his mouth a tentative lick, then a bite. He chuckled, breathlessly, when he pulled his fingers back. He moved his hands from Sai’s collar bones finally, placing them on either side of his neck.

Sai’s hands moved to Neji’s jaw again, this time both hands holding him there. Their eyes met – and if Neji dared to glance down, Sai lifted his chin up to keep his eyes on his. Neji gave a slight smirk. Was it his eyes that he liked or was it the concept of it? To watch his eyes, his breathing, his face as they “sparred”.

The Byakugan flickered to life – but only partially. Light blue veins of chakra appeared along Neji’s temples. He could see what they looked like now – Neji’s hips rocking against Sai’s, Sai’s legs bent at the knees, his hips pushing up against Neji’s. The Hyuga leaning over him, and Sai staring right up at him. At the same time, he could see Sai’s eyes – staring right back at his, filled with outright refusal to look anywhere else.

His own breathing getting faster and faster as his hips pushed against Sai’s – and Sai’s hips rolling back the best he could to keep up. And finally, he felt – and saw – Sai’s hips jerk, once then twice, his whole-body tensing underneath him. He could see the distinct flare of his nervous system, of his chakra network, and he knew he had won.

“… I seem to have won our spar.”

“Good effort.” Neji sounded almost smug.

[mokutone]

somewhere a switch flipped. suddenly you want to like people. you want to be liked. you want to be of use to these people who are becoming precious to you, not just for your own survival, but for their happiness

[summerhighlandfalls]

I think he'd be a pretty crier

[kavvaakari]

[coughing weakly] did i do enough replies senpai ........... will they let me into heaven?

[kavvaakari]

@moonsdying asked:

( 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 ) ; one muse takes care of the other while they’re sick. (for yugao)

Cool fingers trail gently over the part of her hair- the crown of her head is the only thing visible, the rest of her body cocooned tightly in a mass of sheets and duvet. She twitches, and when those clever, cool fingers start to peel the comforter back, she groans at the sudden influx of bright, midday light. The fingers pause, tuck her back in. Footsteps, and then she can hear the blackout curtains being drawn closed.

The next time those insistent fingers try to pull back the blankets from around her face, she lets them go with a soft sigh. The air in her room feels frigid despite the hot flush to her skin, and she blinks blearily up at Hayate as his face swims into focus in the now low light of his own bedroom. She's sweating buckets into his sheets, her long hair tangled and sticking in clumps to her scalp, her throat, and his fingers as he carefully combs some strands away from her face.

"Sorry," she croaks. "I'm gross."

Hayate's already shaking his head, but he lets her finish before he replies, "Don't apologize, and no you're not. I'm glad you're here."

"Don't want to get you sick," she insists, sniffing, and then giving him a miserable smile when he traces the tip of his index finger down her nose. "Didn't think you'd be home for another few days."

He hums at her, doesn't reply until he's satisfied with the way her hair lays against the pillow. "I'll be fine," he says, "I'm glad you came here. Want me to make you something to eat?"

Her stomach twists, and she shakes her head. He hums, and she knows he'll probably already have some nutrient-dense broth heating on the stove. She can't smell it, she's too stuffed-up, but she knows that he could smell her germs as soon as he walked into his apartment.

"Okay," he agrees readily enough. "How about I help you take a shower, and then I'll brush your hair, and put some nice clean sheets on the bed for you?"

"I'm just gonna sweat through them again," she complains quietly, embarrassed at her own childish weakness even as she says it.

"Yeah," he presses his cool, dry lips to her tacky forehead, his own huff of laughter inaudible- she feels it ghost across her skin, half-heartedly reaching up to push at his chin.

"Hayate, seriously. I should just go home, I don't want to get you sick-"

"I'll take my vitamins, I promise," he draws away at her next shove, but he takes with him the blankets, and she shudders at the wash of cold air.

Hayate puts his hands against her hips, his fingers riding up under her tank top, and between her lazy thrashing and him coaxing her up, she stumbles to her feet tucked against his side, her head resting against his shoulder as he walks her to the bathroom. Upright, the world around her swirls and sloshes. Nausea rises in her throat, and even the light from his kitchen reaching the open bedroom door seems to be too much for her. He brushes a hand over her eyes, promises to take care of her. She keeps her eyes closed when he turns on the light, when he steers her and picks her up and carefully sits her on the counter. She shivers when he steps away, but she stares at the back of her eyelids and lets herself zone out, listening to him fuss with the shower, feeling the steam start to fill the room. She sniffles. He returns to her, pressing his palms to her cheeks and then his cheek to her forehead.

"Your fever is pretty high, I think," he informs her quietly. "Can I undress you?"

She nods, and he pulls away enough that he can strip her tank top off, and then grabbing her shorts and pulling them down. With her eyes still closed, he helps her into the shower- it's not hot, but the water isn't cold enough to make her tremble. She stands quietly, listening to him undress as well, and keeps her eyes closed even as he steps into his shower with her. Hayate takes her elbow, and she leans against his shoulder with her cheek pressed to his collarbone as he starts the arduous process of washing her greasy hair and carefully detangling it.

Two shampoos, conditioner, combing carefully, no soap in her eyes. He carefully turns them so the water hits his back, and twists her hair up and out of the way so he can kneel and wash her body from her feet, up her calves, her thighs, her hips. By the time he makes it up over her waist, she's back to leaning on him, and as he brushes up over her breasts and down her arms she lets him hold most of her weight. The soap tingles on her skin, she thinks it's probably the eucalyptus scented stuff she got him for when he's having trouble breathing.

Once she's rinsed, he turns off the water and steps out, then helps her out. She gets his fluffy robe, and he finger combs her hair to remove some of the excess water.

"Um, you wanna try and eat?" He asks, slipping an arm around her waist and ducking his head against her throat, nose pressed to the thin skin over the tendons there.

"I should at least drink some water," she sighs, and he leads her into the kitchen to sit at the table. She feels a little more alive after a shower, and peeling her eyes open to watch him putter around his kitchen doesn't make her feel any more like she's going to puke, so she settles her head in her arms and watches away. He pulls out a tea kettle, a little saucepan, a glass for water. The glass he fills and settles next to her, and she resolves to take a sip or two every minute that ticks down on the stove clock. The kettle he fills and sets to boil, the saucepan gets a carton of bone broth and a scoop of miso paste. He pulls out a box of tea, shows it to her: fennel, mint, eucalyptus and ginger. She nods, and he sets it to the side, and while they wait for the soup and the broth to heat he arranges her hair into a loose braid to keep it out of her face. His fingers feel good on her scalp, and she leans into his touch.

They're quiet, though Hayate hums some song half-under his breath. Yugao doesn't know if it's something he's made up or something he remembers, but she doesn't think she's heard it anywhere before. She's trying to find the words to ask, but he's drifting away from her to pull the broth from the stove, to steep her tea. The way he moves in the corner of her wavering vision makes her feel like she's watching him in a dream. He settles two mugs in front of her, kisses her on the forehead, and tells her: "I'll be back, I'm changing the sheets."

She hums at him, nurses her water for a few more sips before moving on to the broth. It's plain, easy on her twisting stomach, but salted enough to help make up for what she's lost from sweating a lake into his mattress. The tea is good too- she can just about breathe through her nose after a couple of sips. After a few minutes and the sound of his washing machine starting he returns, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, standing behind her and brushing his fingers over her forehead, sweeping her damp hair back over her crown, trailing down over her ears, under her jaw, over her throat. he works his way back up, and then back down, and every thirty seconds or so she makes herself take another drink of something, knowing she shouldn't lay back down no matter how tired she feels until she starts to rehydrate.

Eventually she is back down to water, and he rinses the mugs and puts them into the sink, refills her glass, and helps her back to her feet. In his bedroom, the new sheets on his bed are light cotton, his softest pair, and he drags the robe off of her shoulders to slide her into a fresh pair of his boxers, one of his more ragged tee shirts, and then he tucks her back into bed.

"The comforter-" she starts, and he shakes his head.

"You need to cool off, my star. I'll lay down with you, let me get you an ice pack first," he slips off again, returns with a hand towel that he tucks carefully against her throat. The ice pack within is cold, but not entirely unpleasant. He slips under the sheet next to her, an arm and a leg thrown over her, and his big dark eyes stare unblinking at her as he looks over the miserable twist to her mouth, her flush, the feverish haze in her eyes.

"Hayate," she starts.

"You're so beautiful," he tells her. "Let me just look at you for a minute, please?"

Yugao sniffles, gives him a watery laugh, and reaches out to pat his cheek and run a hand through his damp hair. "You can look at me as long as you like, I just don't want you to get sick too."

"I'm not going to get sick," he insists. "The power of love is too strong. I'm going to nurse you back to health in no time."

He does- nurse her back to health, of course. But he does very much also get sick, coming down with her same fever-nausea-congestion. She doesn't tell him she told him so.

[investigaiden]

@kavvaakari: just don’t stand and watch. - from tenzo!

memes, accepting

ANBU assignment postponed. his scorpion mask dangles from his hip. time to rest has arrived. the hillside inn was practically a shack. ibiki – codename stinger – has to duck when he passes doorway. nearly bumps his head on ceiling. like column-necked giraffe, the teenager ambles and maneuvers.

being a tall shinobi has blessings and curses. double-edged sword, so to speak. (the good: he could tower over others, see more in heightened, elevated flashes. the bad: low-lying buildings.)

yamato brews coffee and pours it into foam cups. ibiki grabs a cup, fingers squeezing. he sips the coffee. stale, bitter aftertaste. you have a hot beverage and warm shelter and you won’t complain.

voice even, tundra flat. “ the cryptic old man at the front desk said the snow storm could last a week. ”

[kavvaakari]

The people this far north seem to be shorter; Tenzo has started to wonder if perhaps it's a lack of access to adequate nutrition- he's no hulking giant like Ibiki, hasn't quite started to grow like a weed yet, but even he has walked through a few doorways in this inn that had him ducking just in case-

Or, maybe the ceilings are low to conserve heat. They'd ducked into this town to shelter from a brewing blizzard.

The coffee is cut with chicory, and watery besides, but something hot to drink will warm their hands and their bellies, so he brews a pot and listens to Ibiki shuffle around the room behind him for a minute. Two Konoha ANBU shouldn't be sheltering in a civilian inn, but their traveling cloaks had hidden their uniforms, and when they go down for supper later, they can pull some more civilian looking clothes from their sealing scrolls and get a hot meal.

"Cryptic?" He asks as he nurses his own drink close to his chest, letting the steam lick his chapped and wind-bitten lips and the cold tip of his nose. "Are you sure he wasn't just scared of you? You're a little severe."

Like Tenzo is one to talk. Shisui has accused him of mean mugging children often enough when he was trying to look friendly. He's still trying to learn to control his expressions.

"Hopefully not a week- we don't exactly have the money for a room for a week, let alone the time to waste. I doubt our adversary will be traveling in this weather, so we should try to close the distance." He pauses. "Once we get some rest, and a hot bath."

[9beasts]

#9beasts. a private multi muse containing all nine tailed beasts. heavily canon divergent and au based. summoned by kaddy.

[kavvaakari]

@nikushiimi asked:

❛ I just got aquamarine on dvd. It’s about a girl who’s, like, half sushi. ❜ - for yamato he has to watch it with him

"Hey," he says, sitting up and putting out the joint in his hand in the ashtray on his table. Yamato hadn't been expecting company, let alone a fourteen year old ball of attitude, but he supposes he could have had a worse surprise letting himself in the front door at 5pm on a Thursday.

For example, it could have been the cops.

Nothing to do about the smell of weed, nor the smoke still lingering in the air, but at least putting it out made him feel like a slightly more responsible and respectable adult. He gets to his feet, shuffles over to his window, and opens it a little further.

"Put some respect on Aquamarine, kid," he mock-demands, his voice serious. "It was a visionary movie for teenyboppers everywhere. Put it in the Xbox, I'll put some pizza in the oven."

He doesn't ask where Kakashi or Naruto are, figuring if Sasuke wants to share why he isn't with them, he will. It's not the first time one of the three has dropped in on him, looking for a break from the other two.

[kavvaakari]

@lvyeshou asked:

😨🔫 prevaricate. to avoid giving a direct answer or deviate from the truth. [tenzo?????]

Tenzo is a mature twenty year old. He's a mature twenty year old, and now that someone has been unceremoniously washed out of ANBU, he's leading his own squad. He's mature now because several of his other companions have died or defected, because he's twenty years old and he's been working on skills like emotional intelligence and empathy.

Because he's mature now, he can recognize the faint fission of tension between his senpai's shoulders whenever Gai calls for him when he limps around, all the pathetic, hang-dog looks that Gai gets when he thinks Kakashi isn't looking at him, and he's come to the conclusion that they broke up in a major way. And it isn't that he's relieved, because he never really cared in the first place that they were sniffing around each other like a couple of mutts in heat, it's just that he thought he'd be more glad to not have to see them giving each other longing glances or sneaking off or-

Well, all of that to say: he has no interest in telling Gai where Kakashi is, since apparently he can't even remember that he's met Tenzo several times unless he can't find Kakashi.

"Hmm.... Hatake... Kakashi...." He says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I can't say... No, I can't say I'm familiar, really. Name rings a bell, don't think I've ever met him before."

Kakashi is currently drooling on Tenzo's couch, knocked out by a combination of painkillers and a brownie that was so strong that even Tenzo feels a little bit woozy.

"Doesn't he have kind of a... reputation?" He crosses his arms, trying not to lay it on too thick but not really caring if the other man knows he's taking the piss. Kakashi holds his loyalty, and Kakashi doesn't want to see Gai. "Why're you looking for a guy like that?"

[kavvaakari]

@inkpots-n-sass asked:

"Are you absolutely sure that your plan is foolproof?

"What plan?" Yamato asks, voice flat. Naruto's complaints can be heard from the hallway, his trudging footsteps nearly as loud as he approaches the door to the archives. "I mean, I left him detailed instructions on what should be put away where, and marked everything very clearly, but... well, there's no such thing as foolproof, is there?"

Everyone has to learn patience and empathy somewhere. Naruto had called the archivists "a couple of paper pushers" one too many times, and... well, frankly, Yamato was hungover, and didn't feel like getting thrown into a tree by a fucking sixteen year old genin.

"At the very least, he won't set anything on fire down here. I think."

[kavvaakari]

@5sealed / here

as all things begin with them, aratachi is minding his business when kouga approaches. there's no reason for him to be sprawled out across the entire bench the way he is, but sue him, he's exhausted. he doesn't know how hayate does the whole night owl thing so well, only to bounce back immediately for the day. ( though, he supposes the bags under hayate's eyes would say otherwise. ) all aratachi wants to do is sleep, but he'd promised his teammates they would train today. he isn't expecting the shove that comes, even if he senses kouga's presence before he sees him. the force of it comes out of nowhere, elbows digging deep into his ribs, causing him to buck and squirm right off the bench and onto the unforgiving ground below it. the sound that rips from him is undignified, a squeak and a yelp. even worse, kokuō doesn't warn him, which can only mean she's warming up to kouga. a travesty, really. rubbing the back of his shoulder, aratachi pushes himself from the floor with a huff. " you're an evil little dog. i'm taking you out of hayate-sensei's will. "

Kouga settles into the bench in essentially the same lazy lounge Aratachi had been maintaining- though, of course, there's about an extra foot of space at his feet. He props himself up on his elbow, peers down at the blond, and gives him a grin that is little more than a baring of his pointed teeth.

"Yeah, Woof," he says.

He reaches down and shoves at his shoulder lazily when Tachi tries to get back up, though it doesn't matter much to him whether he succeeds in knocking him over again or not.

"Hayate won't take me out of the will because I'm the only one that knows the Gekkou Funeral Rites," Kouga informs him drily. "My place as executor of his will is secured forever. You, however, won't be getting more than a kunai if you keep mouthing off."