#ask i.

[ravagd]

resting his head on kakashi's shoulder —

* unprompted. / @gatesopen !

a peaceful moment in the hokage office?        that was certainly quite rare ,    which only made it feel even better as kakashi allowed himself to relax the tense line of his upper body for once.        it felt safe here (unlike most things do) ,    with the ANBU outside and the ninken sleeping right by the desk    ───    joined by the love of his life resting at his side.        there were various papers blanking up at him in anticipation ,    letters from influental people and the world…       yet kakashi had his entire world right here by him ,    wide nose digging into the sturdy outline of kakashi’s shoulder pads and posture uncharacteristically slumped.

it was also rare for gai to sleep before him (at least randomly during the day like this because he always complains it is ‘wasted’ otherwise) ,    but kakashi would never deny his lover the rest ,    not when sleep is a luxury only civilians can properly afford.        when gai is helpless with him like this ,    kakashi’s most intrusive thoughts immediately force the many ways in which he could kill the other man upon him (and he hates himself more every time).        some would argue that it is instinct ,    but all he sees are gears that have been oiled slick enough to almost spin out of control (which is the only time he ever wishes he could rather see blood).

and yet gai trusts him.        he trusts him with his heart and life and it takes everything inside kakashi not to be overwhelmed by the intimacy of that realization every time.        he has pushed his lover away so many times in this life ,    ignored and avoided him on purpose ,    called him a fool (yet it turned out that kakashi had been the fool all along instead).        to become a head out of a soldier from one day to the other was certainly not easy either ,     but kakashi would argue that he has spent a good while learning how to disarm himself now     ───    it would still take many years to learn this way of life (tranquility and its domestic affairs) ,    but luckily he has a strong pair of hands guding his own every single day of it.

[cajoled]

zabuza pauses in front of utakata, eyes trailing down to the slightly exposed skin of his chest, catching instantly on the glimmer of stone and jewel hanging comfortably between his collarbones. it's beautiful, zabuza can admit that much to himself, but the sentiment comes second to minor embarrassment, and he clears his throat. ' you don't have to wear it, if you don't want. ' (uwu)

* UNPROMPTED / @GODMIST !

zabuza calls him ‘princess’ (at least sometimes) .        his skin is thicker now (thankfully) ,    a gooey-sticky thing he has wrapped around himself and perhaps it’s just saiken’s chakra stacking up over time     ———     maybe it’s a sort of apathy he had adapted in order to survive .        even as son of the mizukage ,     he’s never possessed anything valuable (material or not) .       the weight around his neck feels restricting (the cold metal of it searing the word ‘commitment’ into his skin) and yet it doesn’t feel wrong .        it’s simply strange      :      but this whole situation is beyond strange ,     a pair of trained killers on the run with two soon-to-be killer children in tow ,     practically playing house (as if they didn’t have to fight for survival every season of every single year) .

he notices the shade of red on his lover’s cheeks (a smile-worthy sight regardless) ,     glistening in the glaring sunlight hitting their forms on the clearing he had been working on .        for lecturing so much about emotions ,     utakata really didn’t have himself nearly as in check as he had thought .          ❛  forgive me for running off earlier .      i …  ❜          even his words do not come to him as easily as they normally did (why now !)      ———      saiken’s laughter is all that ricochets in the hallows of his skull .        but he looks at the precious stone and thinks that zabuza could have certainly been executed if caught stealing it (and yet that only leaves him to swallow harder around the lump in his throat) .         why is this so hard ?

instead utakata chooses to let actions speak for him .        a hand finds its way to a cheek (and it’s sticky with sweat ,  but when has either of them ever cared about that) to gently urge zabuza to meet his eyes again ,    making sure to prove with his softened gaze how much the man had spoiled his heart .         ❛  of course i want to wear it .      it’s beautiful .  ❜         his tip-toes help press his lips to the other shinobi’s lips and it’s all the adoration utakata feels within him (expressed in a simple romantic gesture) .        his confidence seeps back as their eyes meet again (and saiken is finally silenced again)      :          ❛  just don’t risk your head over something like this ever again .      i can’t raise haku and hotaru on my own .  ❜

[dualty-blog]

stares at the little thing on top of his head. he knows he can’t say much regarding other people’s hair but that hasn’t stopped him before. “ what the fuck is that on your head? “

   this   kind  of   impolite   brat  is   exactly   what  made   regret   bubble  up   whenever   he   remembers   taking   on   the   position  of   headmaster   at   a   highschool.        it’s   not   even  the   question   ,   it’s   truly  just   the   wording  that   irks   him   too   much  for   even   the   twitching   of   his   eyebrow  to   express.              ❛     funny   that   exactly  you   would   ask   me   that…     ❜               is   forced   out   between   a   laugh   equally  as   unwilling   to   be   here  as   he   takes  note   of   the   odd   style  the   young   boy   was   wearing  his   own   hair  in          ———          another  strange   trend   taking  the   humans   by   storm?        but   he   admits  ,   this   development  had   always   annoyed  him      /      his   insides   simply  not   enough   to   contain   a   demonic   entity  such   as   himself.        he   forces   his   eyes   shut     /     tilts  his   head   to   smile   again   ,   but   the   way   the   edge  of   his   canines  remained   a   bit   too   exposed  screamed.             ❛     don’t   we   all   have   that  one   unruly   strand  of   hair?     ☆     ❜              his   eyes   open  up   to   a   slit   &  the   limelight   coming  from   them   promises  burning   of   any   further   intrusions.        today   was   not   the   day   to   be   exposed  as  something   beyond   humans  &   mere   monsters.              ❛     now   don’t   you   have   some  souls   to   catch?        wouldn’t   want   to   have   to   notify   your  principal   that   you’re  lingering   on   another  school’s   campus   ,   right?     ❜

* @godbrute

[forgerybuilt-blog]

“ I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing. ”

prompted.    /    always    accepting!     ↷     (    @powermiracle    )

HE  RETRACES HIS  THOUGHTS    /    THE  COUNTLESS  JABS  OF  GUILT  AT  HIS  OWN  HEART    &    the  irony  stings so  badly  like  blades  cutting through  velvet,  flawless skin  that  he  had  worked so  hard  to  keep.      but  there  are  other  things  he  has  left  beyond  his  care,  something he  had  been  given  prophecies for    ;    that  it’d  make  god  reach  for  his  soul  as  means  to  an  early  end.      but  here  he  was,  still  standing   &    better  than  ever  while  standing  on  the  edge  of  a  hospital  bed.     but  it  should  be  the  other  way  around,  why  wasn’t  the  gown  tied  up  around his  neck?  maybe  because  fate  doesn’t  mess  around  with  logic    &    tendencies or  any  of  that  crap.     he  dislikes hospitals,  using  this  particular  word  on  purpose because  hate  would  be  what  his  former captain  feels  towards the  buildings, leaving  him  grinding his  shoe  against the  floor,  rubbery   &    flat  almost  serving  as  a  reminiscence  of  their  beloved court.   

he  doesn’t  even  know  what  to  say,  because  what  do  you  do  when  the  nightmare that  has  ruined most  of  your  childhood  comes  back  to  hunt  you  even  when  you  have  moved  past  it  or  worse    ;    bites  it  teeth  into  you  now    /    greedy like  a  god    /    not  satisfied  with  its  previous sacrifice.      kise  honestly  never  would  have  thought  it  would  play  out  like  this,  fate  playing  its  damn  game  again.              ❛     senpai,  how  are  you  …  ?     ❜              as  soon  as  the  question  leaves his  mouth,  he  wants  to  punch  his  own  face  because  how  stupid  is  that  to  ask?  immediately trying  to  cover  his  mistake, he  starts  to  become  fidgety   &    tries  to  better  his  question.             ❛     sorry,  that  is  a  stupid  question, of  course  you’re not  doing  very  good  …  but  are  you  feeling better  than  before?     ❜              he  doesn’t know  if  that  was  any  better  either,  but  he  let’s  it  be    &    is  waiting  for  the  proof  as  he  realizes  that  he  still  calls  the  other  by  their  school honorific     ———-     it’s  probably  kasamatsu’s fault.      that  the  person he  thought  was  always  their  pillar  of  strength,  like  prometheus  holding up  the  fire  for  the  humans  to  grant  them  light  but  now  there  was  just  machinery    &    little fight  left.   

but  the  slight sting  of  guilt  at  the  back  of  his  head  won’t  leave  him    &    he  finally  says  what  he  has  been  meaning  to  express  during his  entire  time  here.              ❛     it’s  really unfair,  isn’t  it  …  i  used  to  smoke  all  those  cigarettes   &    yet  you  are  the  one  in  this  bed.   ❜               this  sentence is  nothing  but  a  fact  known  to  both  of  them,  but  it  feels  better  now  that  he  has  said  it,  so  maybe  that  was  also  why  he  suddenly  started crying    &    he  felt  pathetic again    ;    he  wasn’t  the  one  dying    &    yet  he  was  the  one  crying  next  to  his  senior’s  hospital bed,  feeling  now  just  like  the  other  had  probably felt  all  these  years  ago    &    it  really  sucked, it  fucking  sucked! he  could  feel  thin  fingers  silently threading  through  his  hair    &    it  made  his  sobs  louder as  he  was  again  being  the  one  comforted  even  though  he  wasn’t  the  one  on  death’s  doorstep.     he  was  just  a  useless  crybaby.

[fernwehig]

’ who said i was talking to you? ’ / kise .

         *  rent lyrics sentence starters.  /  @viralwill !

being golden comes easy    /    if it’s molten ,   as he’d know     :     if people can shape you how they want you ,   that’s when you find a form for everyone.         the curl of his fingers into a bridged fist as he still sits on the nicotine - induced high of his earlier cigarette speaks loud    /    as he’s never been known to keep quiet easily.          “  no one because there’s only the two of us here - ssu.  ”         an awful reminder of his middle school teammate comes to mind    /    the most stubborn of buck ,   heart in the eyes instead of the tongue.          bumping into this   …   specimen had become inveterate     :     yet kise is quick to pull strings to his side of the boat ,         “  one could think you’re stalking me.      you wouldn’t be the first one , you know. ”          and the sweetest smile    /    of glazed - over magazine covers ,   just the cherry on top for extra measure.

[fernwehig]

kisses kakashi's cheeks

* unprompted.  /  @viralwill​ !

filled with sublime - red ,    blood vessels bloom like the flowers    /   growing out of his father’s ashes far away    :    the stability of a warm palm ,    curled against the nape of his neck combined with a smothering amount of affection   /   he gawks up into ,    like a child   (not knowing better).          it’s the soft stroke of a thumb over his windpipe ,    keeping him in place   &   he stays due to trained obedience   /   but more so due to love   &   trust.               ❛  you’re feeling rather …   affectionate today.  ❜               it’s lazy    :    a drawl of his normal dour tone , but there’s an airiness to it that doesn’t sit right   /   not when he succumbs to naoya’s touch so easily  (instead of arching away).          in the end ,    it will be a breadless fight   /   unrecoverable ,    as his mask pools around his neck   &  he’s left defensless.

but this is not a battle ,    he reminds himself      ———-      his lover is not armed   (even if he could still cut kakashi’s aorta in a heartbeat)   &   his muscles uncoil in the stable hold.          the softness underlying the stark yellow of naoya’s eyes was waiting    :    not to strike   /   but for kakashi to give himself willingly ,    all of him.          the tremble of the outline of his body screams   /   louder than his vocal cords ever could ,     he couldn’t say ‘no’ again    :    not when ‘no’  (as in ‘no’thing)  is all he has ever spoken his entire life up until now.         so instead ,    his instigated body   &   mind are freed in unison   /   as they say ‘yes’ before his knees give out   &   he’s securely caught in a warm embrace ,    smelling homely of the wet earth in their front garden  ( &   kakashi finds that he sinks into both just as easily).

[fernwehig]

cupping sakumo's cheeks, thumbs smoothing over his lips, curious little sound building low in his throat. ' your teeth are different from kakashi's. his mother? ' / orochimaru.

* unprompted.  /  @bredfaith​ !

      orochimaru’s  hands  are  cold  and  feel  weirdly  smooth  against his  skin  ,  feels  it  touch  on  the  sump  of  a  few  wrinkles as  he  notices  a  gentle press  on  his  upper  lips  (and  he  has  always said  orochimaru’s  eyes  were  too  hypnotizing  to  pull  away  from)  ,  even  as  his  eyes  begin  to  crinkle  with  a  smile.       ‟ you’re  as  observant as  always  ,  lovely.  ”        sometimes  he  asks  himself if  orochimaru  is  bothered  by  the  fact  that  kakashi was  his  late  wife’s  child  (but  in  this  moment ,  so  irresistibly close  ,  he  almost  forgets)    :    a  teasing sound  as  he  smacks  his  lips  against the  finger  intruding  on  the  edge  of  his  mouth  while  using  the  opportunity to  look  orochimaru over  (and  he’s  delighted  to  find  that  he  is  still  as  beautiful  as  he  was  the  before).

      a  small  laugh  escapes  him  as  he  steps  closer ,  waits  for  the  other  to  back  out  a  bit  (as  he  used  to  at  least)  ,  but  makes  no  other  attempt to  touch  him  beyond  where  his  palm  is  appropriately guiding  orochimaru’s  waist.        ‟  she  was  an  inuzuka ,  the  teeth  are  a  trademark  amongst  them …   he  used  to  chew  through  brand  -  new  pacifiers  in  a  single  day  and  it  drove  me  up  the  wall  at  times. ”        it’s  still  nice  to  have  a  small  reminder  of  her  existence in  his  life  (and  instead of  guilt  ,  it  finally fills  him  with  a  sappy  touch  of  nostalgia).     orochimaru’s hand  hadn’t  moved  much  in  the  time  he  had  spoken  and  he  raises a  testy  eyebrow.        ‟  but  of  course  you  can  touch  mine  anytime you  would  like  as  well  lovely  , even if  they  might  not  be  as  interesting from  a  scientific point  of  view.  ”