My name is Lyn (not my real name but part of my real name).
I am a 22 year old university Pharmacy student (I don't know if my career has a direct translation but the same reason let's leave it as Pharmacy). Right know my career is top priority so I can't upload as much content as I would like.
English is my second language, so I am sorry if I make any typo. My native tongue is Spanish (please get me out of Latin America) and honestly is hard having to translate ;-;
Anyway, selfshipping is something I've been doing since Middle School but just wrote x reader as to get over it... Didn't work. I was also scared because I was flamed back in the day were cringe culture was alive.
So uhhh this is me I probably won't post as much as I woukd love to and since this is a side blog I am @loludontknowmyname if I follow you .
About the content I have some x readers but I would post mostly self-ship things.
I am glad to meet y'all!
Want to be friends? DM me! Or if you want to make sure check my carrd.
Without further ado welcome to the chaos
Right now my kinktober masterlist is live!
The Road to Lyn masterlist is being updated daily uvu
The Steven Universe fandom might be “cringe” and “bad” but imagine a fandom so bad that a bunch of fandom members had ran a scheme to say “if you pay us money, your blorbo will know you’re valid” and the fandom permanently split over a 95 paragraph callout post of these people.
Pairing: Ukiyo Kururugi (or reader) x Kyojuro Rengoku
Word count: 438
Summary: Ukiyo (or the reader if you want to interpret it that way) has to endure Kyojuro's funeral.
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, Canon Character death, Angst, Hurt and no comfort.
Ukiyo looked at his closed eyes. He had never looked as peaceful as he did when he slept. He wasn’t sleeping, his chest didn’t move.
His hair neatly fixed, red tips and yellow locks fanned out his shoulders. He used to have the worst bed hair, this wasn’t like him. Her hands gently petted his hair, it was soft as she remembered, and still this wasn’t him.
—Welcome back— she greeted him, her voice shaky, knowing he wouldn’t answer back. She leaned in pressing a soft kiss over his forehead. —You did great, dear.
His cheeks unnaturally pale, a little hollow, Ukiyo reached her hand the pad of her thumb gently circling his cheekbone, he wasn’t warm. He was cold because he had fallen saving all the passengers and the three other slayers that had accompanied him.
Ukiyo choked back a sob. Her hand going to her lower abdomen. She was three months in, his… Their child growing inside her and this was how their family was torn apart before he even met his first… and only.
She knelt with Senjuro at her side. They had done their best to cover his injuries. Senjuro kept trying to stifle his sobs, his father had told him to not cry in front of everyone or at the least that he didn’t want to hear him cry.
“If you need to, do it” Ukiyo swallowed. She had a knot on her throat, it was difficult to breathe the same air that Kyojuro couldn’t.
“I can’t” Senjuro bit his lip, trying to surpress his tears. “He wouldn’t want me to…” He said it in dispair. “He would want me to remember him with a smile” Senjuro sobbed, he looked smaller and younger, as he tried to clear his tears as soon as they began falling down.
Ukiyo took a deep shaky breath her heart breaking a little bit more again, her hands clenching over her mourning kimono. In less than a decade, the world had stolen her everything again.
“I know” her voice trembled as her eyes swelled again but this time she couldn’t hold the tears back. She wanted for Kyojuro to stand up and smile at her like he did the last time he visited her and he had found out she was pregnant. “Dear god, I know”
She passed an arm around him, Senjuro leaned into her, her chest muffling his cries, her tears falling down into his hair as she sobbed cradling him close to her, she had lost a husband but Senjuro? He had lost his brother… Apparently the only person who seemed to believe in him.
Summary: Ukiyo (or the reader if you want to interpret it that way) and Rengoku have their first date.
Warning: None that I can think of!
Wind swayed the leaves, the sky was clear, and the bustle of the crowd framed the quiet of the dirt path in which Kyojuro and Ukiyo walked alongside. He sometimes sneaked glances at her, his fiery eyes trying to take as much as he could from the way her curls framed her face.
Ukiyo felt her face flushed, the humid summer night masked her flustered blush. They had shared a very good, no, an excellent night. Kyojuro was glowing with how great this had played, the small brush of their hands making his mind go high-wire. He refrained from taking her hand, he still didn’t thought she would be alright with it but there was something different, something he couldn’t quite place on her silence, on the way she had dressed up for that night, something on the way that she moved that made his heart simmer, not burn not ablaze, but settle in a rhythm that warmed his whole body.
“I had fun” Ukiyo said a little smile toyed on her lips, there was a subtle shine on them, Kyojuro didn’t know what it was called but it suited her quiet nature, they looked like konpeito, and that made him avert his gaze.
“Me too” Kyojuro mused. His heart was making a little tap under his chest. “Would it be ok if I held your hand?” Kyojuro asked, his whisper was loud enough to show the bundle of nerves he was made himself of.
“Of-Of course” Ukiyo stuttered. Her hand reaching for his tentatively, Kyojuro gently sled the rough pad of his fingers over her palm, her hands were as soft as they looked like, their fingers weaved like they had done the motion a thousand times. He could feel his chest warming up, the heat slowly going up to his neck and to his cheeks, but this was fine, no, not fine, it was perfect, he prayed she didn’t feel how clammy his hand was getting, but she didn’t seem to care too much.
Before the comfort of silence could reach them, a soft blue glow bathed the sky soon followed by the crack of fireworks. They stopped mid track looking at the sky. He turned to her, his hair swaying slightly and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her, but this smile was different from the usual expression he carried, softer even his features seemed to soften. Her eyes had the same color of the night sky, taking the same light of the fireworks.
“They are so pretty” She murmured enraptured.
“They are” he answered, without taking his eyes off her.
Summary: Ukiyo (or the reader if you want to interpret it that way) wakes up next to Rengoku after almost getting herself killed, she finally takes a clear look at him.
Warning: Mention of canon typical violence, not proof read.
He was warm, warmer than she had ever expected. Ukiyo huffed a little, sleep finally wearing off. Behind her, a strong warm barrier was blocking the sun, she rubbed her eyes and yawned, her room, the murals and the richly painted doors of the Ushiromiya state was the same. She propped herself up and turned to to see to her left.
Kyojuro had placed his katana in front of him, he was still on his uniform, and he looked so… peaceful, unguarded, relaxed. Her lips parted, Lady Utahime had asked him to stay with her, the demon terrorizing Iwatobi tried to eat her. Kyojuro didn’t refuse, he didn’t even protest, he kept her company and refused to sleep when she scooted to make room for him on her futon.
She had found his way of talking exasperating, too over the top, yet she couldn’t really dislike him. He was kind, his big hands managed to hold his katana and her with such gentleness it was scary. The kids, loved him and he never mistreated him nor did he tried to win them over just to impress her.
He was like an owl, a very talkative and noisy one, wise on his years and of gentle nature. She loomed quietly over him, Rengoku was massive, even if he wasn’t the tallest, not that it was of use when he looked helpless like this.
His golden waves fell behind him, under the sunrise light he seemed like he was glowing (Ukiyo shaked her head at the thought), he had the fire breathing style it might come with it. His bangs framed his face, but Ukiyo didn’t dare to move a centimeter, she didn’t want to wake him up, but she couldn’t stop staring either.
His brows were relaxed, his lashes resting with an elegant curvature that would make lady Utahime jealous. The curvature of his nose bridge, down to his…
Ukiyo felt her cheeks burning and decided to turn her face away. Staring was rude, but maybe having a peek wasn’t right?
His lips were parted, small puffs of breath coming out as he breathed. Nothing too worth noticing, but she really couldn’t tear her eyes from them. They looked soft, warm and even a little chewable. She shook her head again.
He groaned, sunlight had woken him up. She shuffled back beneath the sheets, her back against his. She couldn’t believe her thoughts, he wasn’t that extraordinary, besides he would become a Hashira and she would always stay in Iwatobi she couldn’t have her hopes up.
“Good morning” he greeted quietly. Ukiyo tensed, even his morning voice was soothing, low but it made her stomach churn. She forced herself to turn around.
“Mornin’ Rengoku” she answered and damned be Amaterasu when she decided to bless him with his flame kissed hair and golden reddish eyes. With sunlight behind him he looked heavenly.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you” He apologized.
“None a bit” she assured him. “I was the one that didn’t want to wake you up.”
Pairing: Savior Light (Angelica Hyland x Albert James Moriarty)
Summary: A maid worth her salt was invisible, yet another part of the furniture. Albert always seemed to notice Angelica.
Warnings: None that I can actually think of?
Albert had gotten used to the soft rustle of her skirt. Angelica carried on her job quietly when he was around. She took the books and placed them neatly over his desk, she brushed the shelf with the feathered dust, although there wasn’t much dust, she always made sure to leave their room spotless. Her steps moved quietly as she carried herself with dignity. He sometimes noticed that lords seemed to overlook her, Angelica could stay immobile for hours, not flexing a muscle, not twitching once. Until she was left alone, he saw it with the corner of his eye the first time he had to offer audience to the countess of York.
She sniffed, a gentle sound almost imperceptible, he didn’t like the countess perfume, but had made an effort of masking his impolite coughs with a flu.
Angelica placed the books on the shelf again her fingers gently brushing the spines of the leathered covers. She passed onto the next, Albert rose his eyes and took a sip from his wine, there was something soothing about her cleaning in silence, like the soft tap of her heel when she got on her tip toes to reach the upper shelves.
He looked down at his report. Though his thoughts weren’t that into the military affairs. He remembered the first time he saw her, she stood almost hidden betwixt the furniture of her old lady’s studio. He liked the Viscountess of Halifax, she was stern and quick of wits, she gave him good counsel.
He just leaned a little back on his chair and saw her yellow iris, she looked like a hawk peering over him, it made him stop for half a second as she looked at him.
‘A commodity not many can have’ those were the Viscountess words. ‘A maid that can go unnoticed is an insurance to anyone’
Albert had noticed that she always kept herself small, plain to the sight, able to blend in with the furniture. He had seen plenty of lords profusely apologizing to him when they didn’t said a little salute to her… Most didn’t really notice her until Albert pointed her out.
“You shouldn’t scold the lords” she scolded him once. Not really a scold she was soft spoken about it, if she had really scolded him it would have been funny to see a woman that stood below his shoulders to be chiding him like a toddler. “A maid worth her salt, must be able to be part of the furniture”
That phrase made him scowl. She shouldn’t be part of the furniture, not when her side steps as she dusted his office were as graceful as a ballet dancer. He was having a hard time focusing, he took another sip of wine.
Over the days she had been at the Moriarty’s service she had proved to be important on intelligence, maids and butlers held their lords secret close but not close enough to not comment about them between themselves. Albert always wondered why they didn’t noticed that the sudden addition to their household got their likings down so fast, she just said she was diligent. It bewildered that they didn’t noticed the grace of her hands as she served lords and ladies, tea or wine, she could have been a painter with such delicate movements.
All of the Moriarty brothers took their meals together, and so did Angelica, she was part of their family, of their mission to change the society they lived in, and Albert wished she could do less and less missions, so she could be safe. He saw the way she winced when Louis helped her to tend her injuries when she had to fend off against a drunken lord. It pained him to see such a perfect being to be reduced to a simple maid.
Angelica always seemed dignified even when she struggled to fix the bedsheets, he hated to admit that his bed was too big for his liking which made it feel emptier even though he knew he could have had any Lord or Lady of his liking. He wanted to keep seeing her, more of the hesitant words when William taught her French, it felt like melody itching a part of his brain that made him stand outside the studio a little while longer than he liked to admit.
Albert yearned for the way her fingers gently ran through his hair when he was feeling that his work might just consume him. She saw the way his spirit fickle like the light of a candle and begged him to call it a night, her rough palms held him with a care he wasn’t aware he yearned all his life. He often lost track of work staring at the lamp on his office the warm yellow light reminded him too much of her irises.
Angelica began arranging the papers scattered over his desk. The rustle of paper made him snap out of his trance, his brow furrowed lightly her read a paragraph before getting distracted again, Angelica never hummed when someone was around, he had her her hold a tune as she washed the dishes, nothing too extraordinary; Yet enough to make his heart pound. William might have said she made him weak, but just the image of her made him strive for his goal even more stubbornly, he wanted a society in which she could have another option, and maybe… If just maybe…
“Al?” She called at him. He shot his head to look at her. “I just need to clear the table.” She wanted permission to move the wine glass. Albert blinked several times as he lifted it without saying a word. He couldn’t help but to stare at her hands, he wanted so badly to clutch her hand with his, to make her leave the worries or responsibilities at a side just for a small moment.
“Thank you Al” She said looking at him in a way that didn’t bothered him but he couldn’t quite place what it meant. It was a different look, like a longing. He couldn’t let himself yearn for that, affection and warmth that had been denied to him ever since his first breath. She had continued cleaning when his thoughts kept consuming him. He saw her in every way and manner, Albert yearned for her to look at him, he wanted to be seen, to be yearned for.
He wanted to be seen like a man, not Earl Moriarty, not the most wanted bachelor in London. He desperately desired to be looked down like Angelica did, with mercy and warmth. He rose a little putting away his wine and reports and softly pulled her against him, his head resting on the middle of her back, he was still sitting on his chair.
“I am dusty, Al” Angelica warned him. It wasn’t a secret how much Albert hated dust, she placed her hands over his.
“I just wanted to hold you” he mumbled. She was warm and dusty, but he didn’t mind the last part. There was something comforting about her rough black linen dress. It reminded him to the usual suit he used in church.
Angelica sighed and turned around hugging him, although she could never understand what crossed his mind, she could see the weariness on his eyes, how his shoulders slumped or he pushed himself lower on the chair.
“You’ve been overworking” Angelica muttered as she gently massaged his scalp. “I’ve seen you”
Summary: Ikoma felt betrayed, Lyn had lied to him long enough for him to not trust her word. Her actions told always the truth, and one incident reminded him what it felt to be saved too.
Warning: Canon typical violence, Lyn being referred as he, not really dead-naming because this was a disguise but definitely dealing with Ikoma having a bi-panic.
Ikoma had almost begged Mumei to not go to the boiler. Yatsushiro station was overrun, all of the survivors had spoken about a black smoke that lingered on the station. There was only one way out, and if the crane was still on operational conditions they could rise the fallen tower and pass under it. A feasible plan, fool proof even.
“Objectives on sight” Mumei muttered loud enough for Lyn to hear her. She gasped and the grip on her naginata tightened slightly, she hacked one head off and then gashed the middle of another.
“Ikoma” She tried to warn him.
“I can’t make it faster” He answered annoyed, before a Kabane jumped to him breaking the glass and biting his arm.
Lyn swatted away two corpses with the blunt side of the pole. Before stabbing them with the sharp edge of her blade. More kabanes were coming at them, she cursed under her breath, sweat formed on her forehead with every enemy slain, her stitched clothes bathing on dark red blood. One bit her arm and she pushed the naginata inside with force, as she let out a cry of pain. The smell of blood made kabanes start to approach her with more aggressiveness. She tried to fend for herself, her back hit the wall of the crane operation console.
“Is it that hard to-“ Ikoma was cut off mid-sentence, he was about to scold Lyn. When a louder this hit the crane, Mumei had been cornered too.
“Dammit!” Ikoma cursed, his hands pushing levers and buttons to keep the crane stable. “Can you hold off a little longer, Ku- Lyn?”
Lyn cringed a little as he was still used to calling her Kuroo. “Yeah, just hurry up” She said while avoiding yet another bite, she ran off to Mumei, a kabane held her from her ankle.
Lyn pushed the blade through the corpses skull, the crunch of bones vibrating on the pole before an even bigger kabane sent her flying back. She fell down coughing, the impact had flattened her back and pushed the air from her lungs, her vision blurred for a millisecond as she tried to breath, turning just to see how Mumei was sent outside the platform.
“Mumei!” Ikoma called on her name, Lyn was faster than him into following her. Lyn hooked a hiking pin, part of the standard stam smith equipment, into the rail and sled down carefully. Ikoma was not so methodic he used one of the cable trays and jumped down.
Ikoma ran and knelt next to Mumei and lifted her up effortlessly in his arms, on the corner of his eyes he saw a shadow moving towards him that made him jump away.
“Watch it!” Lyn warned him and hit the kabane on the head and then when it stumbled she pushed the blade through its heart. Ikoma saw her panting her usually pristine clothes were now stitched with different kinds of threads, her jet black hair was messier than ever, his eyes focused on the way sweat trailed down the side of her jaw.
“Nice call” He muttered a little uncomfortable. He was having a hard time trying to push his feelings for her… No, for him. He liked Kuroo, he was sure about that, but Lyn seemed a different person like she was less restrained version of Kuroo, and yet he saw the same smile that made him swoon or the look in those big eyes of his that made him fold in less than a second.
The soil rumbled and both lost their balance for a second, not only kabanes were upon them but the boiler pipes began whistling, they were reaching their limits, then the whole station shook.
“Run” Ikoma muttered not quite sure if he thought or said that, he was looking through his glass the way the boiler was about to explode. Lyn stood almost frozen, her eyes fixed on the building. “LYN WWE HAVE TO RUN NOW!”
She snapped her head back at him, like she was pulled out from a trance and followed him, kabanes were catching up to them, Ikoma knew the couldn’t fend themselves against all of them.
Just a flash of light was the last thing they saw before they ran inside a tunnel, before debris began clanking over them. Lyn was running behind him, the rumble of the falling rocks drowned their steps Ikoma felt his own legs pressing even more, but it wasn’t enough when boulders began to block the way out, a crack on the ceiling made the hairs on his neck stand, he was going to be crushed.
“Watch out!” Lyn screamed. He was about to turn, and for a scary second he was tackled, he let go of Mumei and rolled on the floor alongside what had pushed him, the bitter taste of dirt made him cough. When he stopped rolling he found himself face up to the dark ceiling. Some light managed to filter through the cracks. He turned to the side and saw Lyn coughing too.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Ikoma asked her indignantly, his voice echoed on the chamber. Lyn seemed to not have heard him as she looked around them. “Are you even-!”
Lyn had pushed him back again when a few more rocks fell over them, she was on all fours her body covering his, her expression crisped. Ikoma wanted so hard to push her away, but he heard the way her hands fisted around the dirt, he looked at her face wanting to see her eyes, she was immobile hoping she could keep him safe. He cursed himself it had to be the other way around, no wait, he didn’t have to protect her, she had lied to him. He couldn’t protect a lier, not even when the wrinkles of her expression made him want to caress her face.
Then he felt his left cheek warm… He wasn’t blushing.
“Are you alright, Ikoma?” She looked at him, her lips parted her eyes scanning his face for any injuries. “Are you hurt?” Her words echoed.
Once Aragane station had been a peaceful place to live… As peaceful as it could get for refugees. He had a nice place, not too big but enough for him a job, and he didn’t passed hunger, not anymore at the least. The only thing he couldn’t really digest, and it wasn’t even a thing it was a whom.
He couldn’t even stand to see his senior, Kuroo. He wasn’t even his senior in age, he just had a way to be neat and that infuriated him. He was graceful on the way he talked, moved and wrote. He just wanted to make him a mess, to see the pristine boy loose his temper once more.
He would have taken him everyday even if it meant getting punched several times like he had. His cheek throbbed remembering how, had they been on the floor a week ago, Kuroo was way more tolerable when he wasn’t acting.
He looked at him as Kuroo skimmed over some reports, the other returned his gaze but couldn’t hold it, Kuroo frowned. Ikoma huffed.
“I am sure he is not that bad” Takumi said.
“He isn’t when isn’t acting like that” Ikoma agreed reluctantly.
“Didn’t know your preferred flirting method was fist fighting” Takumi teased him.
“Shut up” Ikoma groaned.
It wasn’t a secret that Ikoma had gotten his ass served by Kuroo and the steamsmiths that picked on him for wanting to be a “hero” had doubled down on it, which made him all the more angry at Kuroo. They walked on the station, dirt crushing under the sole of their shoes. Ikoma had become an expert on tuning people out when he was at work. He didn’t noticed when Kuroo was warning some of his mates to not pull that much weight with the motor. He hanged his bag and buckled his tool belt, and fixed his security glasses.
Kuroo rose his face again, and time seemed to freeze, he saw the metal threads undoing on the cable.
“Hey” He tired to warn them. His chords hadn’t healed completely yet, in a scary second he dropped the reports and pen.
The last thing Ikoma knew was that someone had pushed him and both had rolled into the rails inside the ditch. Ikoma let out a strained sound as he felt the weight of however had decided to push him, when he opened his eyes saw Kuroo’s hair, he had pulled himself up, in all fours over him.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Ikoma asked her indignantly, his voice echoed on the ditch. Lyn seemed to not have heard him as she looked around them. “Are you even-!”
Ikoma parted his lips, he stopped mid-sentence when he felt the drops of blood over his left cheek.
“Are you alright, Ikoma?” She looked at him, her lips parted her eyes scanning his face for any injuries. “Are you hurt?” his voice was raspy, louder than he had ever heard.
“Your face” Ikoma muttered. His eyes went from Kuroo’s deep purple eyes to the deep gashes on his cheek.
He rose making her sit back, he ripped a part of his cloak. That was different from that accident long ago, he took her face with one of his hands and gently cleaned off the blood from her forehead. He couldn’t stop himself, like he had committed to memory the action.
Lyn stayed frozen, there was no more reluctance on Ikoma’s movements.
“Stop running into danger for me, princess” He looked at her, his mahogany eyes looked into hers, with a fondness he wasn’t able to hide anymore.
Pairing: Gaara of the Sand x Rina Shimomura (Sand Dragon)
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 2.7K aprox.
Summary: Gaara did not understand the theatrics or the intuition some people had for affection, luckily for him, Rina is patient and understood on a better level how he felt.
Gaara was deeply aware that him and his siblings weren’t raised between kisses and hugs. He even scrunched his face when they hugged him, it made him shiver like he had bugs crawling around his whole body. He was used to cold surfaces, his sand shield, the floor tiles, even his bed. Warmth seemed always a foreign concept, human warmth made his skin shiver, he was sure it was because he was repulsed by it.
It happened the first time his sister hugged him, he froze on mid-hug. It made paths que his skin crawl, but not in the way it should when he accidentally touched a sticky surface and pulled his hand away. It made his skin crawl like the light of dawn calmed him. He could just awkwardly pat her arm after a second or two, and that made her step back.
His skin itched every time someone even brushed against him, it made him recoil with a mixture with disgust and… yearning? Living with Shukaku inside him had led him to a life of solitude, to a dark place that had him believing that he had no place in the world and no place between his peers, his family even his village, an outcast destined to one day burn his village to feel it’s warmth.
That was changing, step by step yet, it was changing. He now had people that cared about him. People that had shown him the worth of living for those that cared about him. Those who had showed him, that their bonds made them stronger, Naruto, Rock Lee… and Rina.
He fidgeted as he awaited on the entrance of Sunagakuure. Kankuro and Temari had gone with him, they said it would be an act of kindness to receive them. He had exchanged letters with her for a little less than a year by now, almost the same time that Gaara had stopped hearing news from Naruto. He feared that Rina would disappear, he wouldn’t deny her letter kept him looking forward for the next one.
He had also been training with his brother, he liked to spend time with Kankuro. Sometimes the three of them trained together, Gaara liked that every time his brothers seemed to be more at ease around him. They had gotten themselves to keep eating meals together. His family was warm, it was bright, he was understanding of what love was supposed to look.
Well… Apparently one type of love. He understood the care he put into his siblings and into his friends, he wasn’t blind. He had seen couples holding hands, hugging each other, looking at each other like the world didn’t matter, caressing their faces, most of the times followed by a kiss. Such a gentle touch that always made him turn his face away, part embarrassed for staring at the couple, part curious about such an act of surrender, part of him disgusted like everytime someone touched him without warning. Loving like that was such a foreign concept, like the wind rustling the falling leaves, gentle yet unpredictable.
He rose his gaze. Rina waved at him from afar, she was walking next to her teammates, Tsukiko and Jun talked between them before waving at them. Temari chuckled as she rose her hand. They seemed different from the last time they had seen each other, at the least Jun seemed to have grown a lot in height, he seemed like a giant gentle sloth, with his sad eyes and soft features. Gaara knew better than anyone that Jun was nothing like a sloth.
He didn’t really knew Tsukiko but he noticed the small hair change, and the way her pale cheeks seemed to have a slight shade of red due to the heat. Next to her was Rina, her features seemed just a little sharper, but her eyes remaining the same, soft, big and bright. She was the first one to greet him she was unsure as to what to do as she greeted him, she was shifting on her feet, her sister had hugged Tsukiko, and his brother and Jun shared a friendly handshake that turned into a half hug. He saw as she offered her hand for him to shake it.
“Congrats on the news” She smiled brightly, for some reason the sun seemed shinier. He knew she was talking about him been named the next Kazekaage, he took her hand with both of his hands, cradling them with care, his both arms felt iron clad, his body filled with both repulsion of the sole possibility of hugging her, and yearning for her to pull him in. He still felt his chest warming up as she smiled as he took her hand.
Warmth was such a complex sensation, heating but different to rage in the way it made his heart beat, different as it made him more aware of everything around him rather than the heating from disease that made him dizzy. It was a welcomed sensation, but not one he was getting used to or enough about.
The six of them walked through the sandy streets of Sunagakuure. Jun and Rina seemed interested in the way the city stretched, of course not asking, many would have considered it an attempt on gathering intel. Tsukiko seemed to be more interested in the different things the stands could offer. Gaara hadn’t realized he was staring, until Rina turned her head to him and smiled at him gently, Gaara corresponded the gesture, wondering if she was aware that her eyes looked brighter under the sunlight or if she noticed the way his black hair warmed with a brown glow.
Gaara turned his head and then looked into the floor, his thoughts raced, his face felt warm but not in embarrassment. Words escaped him, what was that foreign feeling that bubbled in his chest? It felt soft like it called him to let his guard down, thing he was unable to do willingly. Was he sick? Or had she used a genjutsu over him, something that would make him sniff the air twice when she came out from her shower and freshly changed, that would make him bite his tongue, fearing she would find him weird. Something that had him yearning for the feeling of her fingers gingerly touching his as she passed him his food plate. What was wrong with him?
His thoughts were keeping him up at night, maybe he was nervous for his naming or maybe it was the constant intrusion of her soft smile. Rina didn’t have any feature that made her different from most she didn’t have that girl’s pink hair color, or Sasuke’s dead eyes, or even Naruto’s bright personality and looks. Though she had the prettiest bushy hair that he had seen, the warmest brown eyes he had ever met his gaze with, the richest color on her warm skin, the subtle softness of her lips… maybe if he could touch them. He groaned and pulled himself up to grab a glass of water, it had been a while since something different to Shukaku had kept him up.
The water cooled his mouth, but it didn’t cleared his head. He sighed once again and climbed the stairs into the balcony. He stared into the pale moon his only company for so many nights. “Mind if I join you?” Rina asked, her tone was soft as she walked her way next to him.
“No” He answered in a flat tone. “Why are you up?”
“I saw the corridor light on and then turn off.” She explained as she sat next to him. There was something about her pajamas that made her all the more distracting, though she was just using a T-shirt and loose pants. “Everything is alright?”
“Just thinking.” Which wasn’t a lie. “I guess I feel somewhat nervous, what if I am not the Kazekaage they want?”
Rina sat in silence reflecting on her answer as she looked into the edges of the rail. “Then you might be the Kazekaage they need” She reasoned. “You have changed, for good, you’ve learned to be more like Naruto and I think that’s to admire”
Gaara turned his head slowly. “You do think so?”
“I know” She turned her back lifting her shirt. He had almost killed her during Konohas’s invasion, no one else but her mother had seen the scar. “I know why you feel like that” She turned to her original position tilting her head a little just to see him. “Maybe you’ll make mistakes but that’s part of life, right?”
Gaara understood when she had gotten that scar, he had used his sand to swat her away. He remembered all too well the look of utter fear as she looked at his eyes when he woke up from his jutsu. He remembered the sealing of her chakra around his for a moment, when Naruto had punched him, and that single moment of panic when his whole chakra pathway was paralyzed for a millisecond, had been enough to almost crush her on the spot. Gaara didn’t answer it surprised to him that she was comfortable showing him that. “Thank you”
“What for?” Rina asked, his face had drifted back to see the city between the rail bars.
“For believing in me”
Rina smiled and turned to see the scenery before them. They stayed quiet for a while, the soft night breeze calming Gaara, he let his legs go and crossed them to sit. Rina placed her hands back leaning into them.
“Can I ask you something?” Gaara asked softly almost shy.
“Sure” She answered back nonchalantly trying not to make him more nervous.
“How-How does love looks like?” Gaara felt his cheeks burn, he battered his own brain to a red paste inside his head. How could he ask her something like that?
“It…” Rina’s cheeks also turned a soft color that only darkened her cheeks. “It depends, siblings love one another different from friends or girlfriends and boyfriends do” She swallowed and tried to calm her own nerves. “I am not sure how to explain it”
A silence hung between them, thick uncomfortable and yet a tingling curiosity sparked in her. “Why do you ask?” She said carefully.
“I was just curious…” He mumbled, his heart almost escaped from his rib cage, this kind of panic was not overwhelming, it wasn’t like Shukaku trying to control his body.
“Curious, about what exactly?” Rina tilted her head.
Gaara knew he was just digging his own grave at this point. He felt shaky, his cheeks heating up, his heart out of control. “How would you have to feel… to kiss someone?” His voice came in a thread.
Rina stopped mid track, taken aback, completely sure if she asked him to say it again he wouldn’t do it, her face turned slightly darker, with heat creeping up her cheeks, her palms sweating like crazy and her breath a little quickened. “I can’t really say, I haven’t kissed anyone yet.” She blurted out, realizing what she had said she covered her lips.
Gaara’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red as he kept quiet a tense air had filled the space between them, it was pulling them together rather than apart.
“I guess… You would have to feel completely comfortable” Rina adventured answering. “like, you know this person and you trusted them with your whole heart and mind”
Gaara felt his heart beating on his throat, his mind racing miles per hour without a single coherent thought, he felt always that comfortable with her… Even against his better judgement.
Rina hesitated, maybe she was crossing a boundary, or a line in which none of them would be able to go back. “What-What if…” She stuttered. She didn’t want it to sound like she was taking advantage of him, by the Sage of the Six Paths, she wasn’t even sure herself if she wanted to kiss him or if he was interested on doing it. “What if we kissed..?”
Gaara wondered if it was possible for his face to burn this hot without having a fever. He didn’t thought she would have asked, he thought it would have stayed as a nice conversation, but the lingering feeling on his chest was something he couldn’t ignore all-together. The way she asked and her eyes averted his as soon as he tried to look at her made her… Adorable.
His silence only made her more nervous. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” Rina quickly added. “It was a suggestion”
“I want to” His raspy voice was soft, gentle and very caring. Gaara was completely caught off guard by himself, he didn’t thought he had it in him.
Rina snapped her head, turning to look at him. She had out her own, on this whole situation, but the more time she spent with Gaara, over his letters and the very few moments the could talk, she found herself always gravitating towards him, it was different from what it felt with Shino and she found her heart… Comforted. “O-ok” She scooted closer the sat side by side, her cotton pajamas brushing his linen pants.
She stared into the tiled floor as Gaara shifted slowly his legs crossing. His fingers pulled into a fist his sand shield had been down for quite a while. Rina turned completely, so he was right in front of him, bathed in moonlight, looking melancholic, and so very… stunning.
Gaara swallowed and turned to face her too, immediately regretting his action, he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. The way her cheeks darkened in embarrassment had his whole being enraptured, like he wanted to be the only one capable to see her like this. He almost yelped, taking a sharp breath as he felt the warmth of her hands taking his, she was leaning closer, slowly, a small flicker of doubt shone on her eyes as he had instinctively leaned back.
“Sorry” He apologized. He closed his eyes his brow furrowed as he took a shaky breath to calm himself and leaned in slightly, slow, but very sure.
“It’s fine” she whispered relieved. The closer she got the better she could see all the details on his porcelain skin, different from his siblings, Gaara had… almost imperceptible freckles, the scar tissue on his forehead didn’t looked as sick as it used to look during their chunnin exams, like he had stopped carving it, it was smoother, and his eyes, his icy sky blue eyes looked at her with a slight fear like he was taking a leap to a bottomless pit.
He could feel her breathing fanning over his skin, tempting him, were her lips as warm as her hands? Were her eyes always this caring? He didn’t know, but as centimeters separated them, they couldn’t move closer. She hesitated twice and he hesitated once… It was too difficult with their eyes open.
“Close your eyes” She muttered, her eyes looked into his before looking down to his lips. Gaara felt like a complete fool, he, would have never done that with anyone ever at all, with his eyes closed… Death could hunt for him, but if surrendering felt like two feathers grazing his lips before pushing with barely enough force for him to feel her warmth, he would willingly die there.
Rina ended the kiss, as fast as it happened, she leaned back, her fingers gingerly touching her lips, her heart beating like crazy. She didn’t understand why Gaara would have let himself surrender to her like that. He opened his eyes, his face as stoic as ever, except for the slightest curve on the corners of his mouth.
“I think I understand it better” He answered softly, very embarrassed, happy, endeared, nervous, hesitant all at the same time.
Which made very difficult to keep the composure during his naming. Everytime he looked at Rina, who sat alongside her friends, he felt the urge to trail his lips with the tip of his fingers, to replicate the caress of her lips against his.
