For the smut prompts: There are too many options I love, so either Kisame/Itachi or Geralt/Eskel and your choice of 21, 46, or 103. Thank you for opening prompts! I love your work!
Gonna try 21 (changing who gives and receives) and Geskel for this one - please forgive if it’s not that good ^^; I’m still shaky on Geralt and have no experience with Eskel yet at all. But! Can’t succeed if ya don’t try! and mediocrity isn’t a sin anyway.
(thank you so much for including a Witcher option T^T)
(I headcanon Eskel as ace in this :3 boi has a libido but no sexual attraction)
---
He was halfway into getting pounded rather beautifully into the dingy mattress when Eskel noticed there was something off. Not ‘off’ as in ‘bad’ but something was tickling the back of his mind, managing to worm its way towards the front just enough for him to notice it past the sounds of insect songs coming in from the open window, the way Geralt’s heartbeat raced behind him, the sound of his own breaths echoing so loud they were near deafening.
Something was just a touch off.
Eskel shifted his weight onto just one of his forearms, pushing himself up enough to look over his shoulder. The sight that greeted him was as beautiful as it had been the first time he’d seen it, and the second, and even into the dozens: Geralt was simply a sight to behold. Silver-white hair shinning in the moonlight like some work of poetry, the muscles in his stomach contracting as he rolled his hips in a steady rhythm, his lips parted and eyes half mast.
But the rhythm was slower than usual, and his expression was different.
He had been accused before of reading too far into things, but there was something...curious about the way Geralt was looking at him then. Geralt was usually very present when they fucked but right now his eyes were almost glazed over, focused entirely on where they were connected, his cheeks splashed with color that was a bit too pink to be just from exertion.
And that blush was honestly too much for him to ignore.
Eskel wiggled just enough to get Geralt’s attention, watching those bright eyes snap up to look at him and sharpen as they did. With a little effort (and a groan), he pulled himself away from Geralt, rolling onto his back and reaching out to tug the other wolf into his arms.
“Is something on your mind?”
He earned a sharp nip to his shoulder that he really felt like he didn’t deserve, Geralt immediately slumping into him, their cocks trapped between them and for now left rather painfully hard and forgotten. Eskel chuckled fondly as he held Geralt close, soothing one hand down his back and the fingers of the other through his hair as the younger man pouted against him.
If he’d learned anything through their years, both growing up together and off-and-on travels and finally their years together, it was that Geralt would open up when he was ready. No sooner and no later. Trying to pry it out of him would just ruin the mood, and if Eskel were honest, despite how his skin singed from stimulation and how his cock leaked, he didn’t really care if Geralt didn’t stop pouting anytime soon.
Sex had never really meant ‘reaching an end’ to him anyway. If he got to hold Geralt tight and kiss the top of his head until Geralt melted into him and fell asleep, well, he wasn’t missing out on anything if he got to have that.
But the way Geralt was unable to keep his hips still, ever so slightly rutting against him, seeking out some sort of friction - it told Eskel that Geralt wouldn’t be keeping quiet for long. Either he would open up, or he’d kiss it firmly from Eskel’s mind.
Geralt huffed, the breath sussing out against Eskel’s skin. He squirmed a little in his arms, sticking his nose as far into the crook of Eskel’s neck as it would go, and then huffed again. And when he finally peeled his face away from where it was firmly pressed into Eskel his face had turned even redder, a frown pulling his lips down but not an upset one. No, it looked much like the kind he donned when he was thinking.
He slid his hand down from his hair to cup Geralt’s cheek, then to caress his chin, the rough pad of his thumb running gently over Geralt’s bottom lip. It made the younger wolf’s eyes flutter shut in a way that had Eskel’s heart skipping - how vulnerable they could be with each other, how gentle and how soft despite the way the world had worn on the both of them.
This, he would trade for nothing.
“What’s it like?”
Eskel blinked at him, not really certain what he meant. While he waited for Geralt to continue, Geralt shifted enough to bring his own hand up in a mirror of Eskel’s, running the back of his fingers against Eskel’s scarred cheek and lips.
“What’s it like to...be in your position? When we have sex?”
Geralt’s brow furrowed in such genuine curiosity and Eskel had to take a steading breath - this man would be the death of him someday. No one person should hold so much of his heart so fully, and yet he knew it was far far too late to change that.
So vulnerable and trusting, and only with him. What did he ever do to deserve this?
“We can switch, if you’d like?” He pushed some of Geralt’s bangs away from his face, then caught his hand to kiss. “Might take a while, I won’t do it without prepping you proper first.”
Geralt nodded, and leaned up to kiss him - first his scar, tender and feather light, and then his full lips, heated and hungry. And as they once again coiled around each other, Eskel patting around the tousled sheets and blankets, he hoped they had enough oil left to fulfill his love’s curiosity.
For the prompt, maybe Ryouji/Sho and they're neighbors. One day, there is a letter on the bulletin board in the entrance saying 'Dear neighbors, I have discovered my cat has stolen a large number of -insert something- from my neighbors. If you are missing any, please come get them'
If it weren’t for the simple fact that Ryouji knew he wasn’t slipping, he’d be worried about his mental state. He shifted the lot of his groceries into one hand as he fished around for his keys with the other, entering his apartment complex through the back so he didn’t have to make a special trip to check his mailbox later. Getting his combination right the first time made him scowl further at the growing predicament he found himself in, and the junk mail that had been crammed into his mail box over the last two weeks (he had better things to do than check his mail every single day, thank you very much) got the brunt force of his displeased scowling.
The mind, they said, was the first thing to go. But considering the only thing he kept misplacing (in mass numbers) were dish sponges, it couldn’t have honestly gone. Right?
Besides, as his brother loved to tease him over, his hair was the first thing to go. Go grey, anyway, though the world wouldn’t be knowing that so long as he had access to a sink and enough money to blow on some dye every few weeks.
Grumbling under his breath at the thought of his brother, he shut his mail box a bit harder than necessary, not honestly caring that there was someone else in the small room to witness his frustration. But witnessing their movement in his periphery still drew his attention, and since his parents had taught him manners he waited for them to leave the mail room first, occupying his vision away from them just to be sure he wouldn’t have to participate in any small talk or other conversation.
He didn’t make too much of a habit of keeping up with the apartment billboard. The colorful and sometimes gaudy papers tacked on there were mostly advertising things he either had no interest in or no use for. Babysitters, dog walking services, AA meetings and shuttle information and updates on some sort of pranking war between some of the residents here (apparently it was hilarious to them to post fake ads concerning their friends). But the billboard drew his attention then and was a convincing enough distraction to ward of social interaction - and something there caught his eye almost immediately.
Over the past several weeks, Ryouji had gone through no less than five packs of sponges. The kind he bought were nothing special - just the cheapest he could find that still had scrubbing power - but they used to last him a good while each, considering it was just him by his lonesome in his apartment, cooking meals for himself and reusing his coffee cup most mornings after just a quick rinse (the blessings of drinking it black). Yet over the past little while they just kept disappearing, and no amount of head scratching or searching throughout his not-very-big apartment ever revealed where on earth they kept running off to.
If his mind wasn’t so sharp concerning everything else, he would’ve been concerned. Early onset memory issues were not something to be scoffed at, and even Ryouji would not have been so stubborn as to ignore them. But he knew it wasn’t just forgetfulness plaguing him, and as his eyes found a printed off picture of a rather small and fluffy animal tacked on to the board he found the oddest answer to the great mystery that was his missing sponges.
The small and fluffy creature was apparently named “Princess Flufferbutt”, a name that had him cringing even as he blinked at what the primly groomed cat held proudly in her mouth. A sponge. Held as if showing off a trophy hunt, with her front paws together and her tail ever so delicately wrapped around her short short legs.
Standing out against the munchkin’s light white and tan fur were rather bold and colorful letters, the largest of which read “Dear neighbors”. And honestly, any normal day of the week would see Ryouji ignoring the rest, but that damned sponge held so proudly in the cat’s mouth hand him bending down closer and squinting his eyes, wishing he’d went with his glasses instead of his out-of-date prescription contacts this morning, taking the rest of it in:
Dear Neighbors,
I, Princess Flufferbutt, have a problem. A problem that my owner Shokashi has just recently been made aware of whenever he discovered my hidden stash of prized sponges I’ve been hoarding under the sofa (as well as my secondary stash under his bed, which he was most startled by). Considering these were apparently not mine by law, a law which I do not agree with nor had no say in, he has informed me that I must return them to their rightful owners.
I disagreed, but, alas, he is the one who brings home the cat food I would starve without in mere minutes.
If anyone’s prized sponges have gone missing within the last while, please feel free to stop by and shame me. As well as have them back.
Sincerely,Princess Flufferbutt, Apartment 423
Ryouji stared at the rather long letter, perplexed beyond reason. He stared long enough that the person he’d been avoiding talking to by staring at it had left plenty long ago, and yet he couldn’t stopped being baffled and almost amused by what he was seeing.
Someone was trying to return lost sponges. They were certainly having fun while doing it, but still. The two packs in one of the bags dangling from his left hand cost less than $3 combined, and yet this person was going out of their way to not only notify everyone that their- his cat was a thief, but that they were welcome to have their sponges back.
Well. Ryouji’s sponges, because he was 99% certain that’s exactly who they belong to. Not that he was going to bother stopping by over some sponges. He straightened himself back up and reflexively tried to push up the glasses that weren’t on his nose, heading into the main apartment building and taking the staircase up to the fourth floor.
Nope. There was no need to go speak with someone over a silly cat poster and what couldn’t have been less than $10 worth of stolen cleaning supplies. None at all. Absolutely no need to dawdle in front of his own front door, eyes peeking over where two doors down he could see the bright silver numbers 423 embossed over the door frame.
There wasn’t a single reason in the world for him to consider going over there. Hanging his few grocery bags on his doorknob and keeping an eye on the halls to make sure no one was around to witness his curiosity, to walk over and stop right in front of Apartment 423 and stare at the door as if it might give him the answers as to what he was doing.
His motives were an enigma even unto himself, and they remained as such even as he knocked briskly on the door in front of him, arm going back stiff to his side before he decided to cross them instead.
The man who opened the door was exactly the type he’d expect to own a spoiled munchkin cat. Short himself, well groomed, hair very stylish and tidy, for some reason not at all perturbed by someone knocking on his door out of the blue, greeting Ryouji with a friendly and warm smile that had him shifting uncomfortably.
This, if anything, was a mistake. Ryouji did not do people. He didn’t know why he was here. But here he was anyway, with this small stranger taking his grunted out and awkward explanation of “cat poster” in good stride, inviting him in for tea - and Ryouji had been taught manners and knew better than to not accept despite himself.
It would take a lot more than one single evening seeing that brilliant smile and listening to Shokashi laugh for Ryouji to admit the man was cute, but even Ryouji, stubborn as he was, as stuck in his ways as he was, would be warn down eventually. And it was all thanks to that damned cat (that he refused to call anything other than Princess, because her “proper” name was ridiculous) sneaking out over their balconies and in through his small kitchen window that they ever met in the first place.
Please spare some Tobirama/Itachi to save my battered soul. Maybe something involving a kitten? Please?
-suspicious squint- How do you know my two weaknesses? WHO TOLD YOU???
(it was me, wasn’t it?)
—
Out of all of the people in Konoha who he could’ve suspected to be a hoarder of cute things, Tobirama would have never been on that list. The man was quite vehement about his dislike for small animals, going out of his way to avoid them at all costs, getting a pinched expression every time they happened to walk past a tiny puppy or a stumbling kitten following its mother about.
It came as a rather shocking surprise, then, when Itachi came home to find their living room had been turned into a kitten play den. At least a dozen of the little critters tumbling over each other, a few much smaller than the rest sitting in a padded and cozy box while they mewled away, their stubby tails stuck straight up and their legs hardly able to support what little weight they had to them.
He side stepped a few of the larger ones carefully, though one managed to attach itself to his leg and claw up to his shoulder as he made his way to find his partner. When he did manage to find Tobirama, he was swaying on the spot in the kitchen, his fur pelt wrapped up in his arms like he was swaddling a baby as he hummed away some tune Itachi could swear he’d heard the man’s brother sing to his children.
“Tobirama-san?”
At his name, the man froze. He turned his head ever so slowly after a moment, pink dusting his cheeks as he stared pointedly away from Itachi. “I’ve asked you not to call me that…”
“Our house isn’t being turned into a cattery, is it?”
“Catteries are awful inventions - no animal deserves to be kept in such small cages!” Tobirama clenched the bundle closer to his chest, still not turning to face Itachi fully. “…and. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“There must be at least thirty kittens in the living room, Tobirama-san.” Another cat came meandering past him then, one that looked to have recently given birth if her size and belly were anything to go by. She jumped up on the counter and started cleaning her face, looking exhausted but still proud in that way all cats were.
“…they must have snuck in while I wasn’t looking.”
Ignoring the fact that the living room had clearly been set up for the little ones, Itachi let that one go, stepping forward to try and peer around Tobirama. “What are you holding?”
“Nothing.”
His little bundle gave a rather small noise, and Tobirama instantly cooed at it. Now that Itachi could see the front of him, he saw that there was a bottle in one of his hands - and the tiniest paw he’d ever seen found its way out of the fur and into sight for a split second.
“What a predicament, then.” Itachi reached out and gave the mother cat some love scritches, smiling softly as the kitten on his shoulder rubbed against his head. “I suppose if they went through all that trouble to sneak in, we can’t exactly get rid of them.”
“Of course we can’t get rid of them.”
“Of course.” He slid right up to Tobirama’s side, leaning against him. “I did spend a lot of time with Nekobaa when I was younger, and helped her raise several litters. Maybe I could help more abandoned little ones in the future.”
“…if I ever see any, I’ll bring them home. For you.”
For his partner’s benefit, Itachi didn’t protest that statement. Instead, he just leaned on him further, petting the little paw still stuck out from the fur bundle with one finger, wondering how on earth Tobirama had hidden all of these cats from him for so long.
Came for the cats and idiots, stayed for the wonderful friendship.
>:| don’t come at me with this grossness
...
jk you’re a good friend too I guess >:|
You’re an amazing fraand with so many ideas and skills and knowledge, am very very glad to have met you! You encourage the best in people and are one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and all sorts of other gross things.
Okay I’ll stop being nice now.
(this is two in a row, I’ve really fooled people into thinking I’m nice haven’t I? HAHAHAHAHA Y’ALL DON’T KNOW I’M PURE EVIL >:D)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The prologue of Red-Eyed is up! You all can also read it under the cut if you prefer:)
“The fearsome Queen of the Demons ruled the lands as far as the eye could see. She manipulated the people of our land, preying on our souls and draining the life from the earth for decades; until one fateful day when she suffered a crushing betrayal by her own sons. After witnessing first-hand, the cruelty of their mother against our people, they engaged her in battle on our behalf. It was arduous, but the two sons succeeded. They defeated the Demon Queen and began the purge of her armies from the face of our world. Until one day, they disappeared!” The elderly shaman’s voice warbled over the crackling of the bonfire he stood in front of as he continued the story passed down verbatim for centuries.
“Blood was spilled for generations in attempt to push back the enraged onslaught of the Demon Queen’s armies. It was a losing war for us without our saviors to help us. But our ancestors held out, managing to manipulate their forces into a gridlock during one extensive, pivotal battle. It raged for months and spanned across more than three hundred kilometers of the Forest. Desperate for the edge over us, the conniving Demons plotted to seduce our own brethren.” Several of the children sitting wide-eyed in front of him gasped and leaned in to hear more.
“And,” the old man whispered, the glow of the fire illuminating his eyes as shadows danced across the creases on his face, “they succeeded. Our people divided, attacking each other. Brother spilled the blood of brother; parent spilled the blood of child. Morale was crushed and we were beaten back, hopeless against the increase of our enemy’s ranks. Now, amidst the chaos and anguish, a young man lost his beloved only brother to the curse and the two of them fought. His cursed brother won their battle with the strength the Demons gifted him with. But as he went in for the kill, his sanity returned just enough to recognize his little brother. Pitying the younger’s weakness, he spared him, and fled into the Forest; only to return days later, with a vengeance at the forefront of the Accursed souls’ forces.” The old man gestured wildly as if to act out the tragedy.
“Distraught at the sight of his elder brother so deeply bastardized by the Demon curse, the younger brother rose up from the bodies of his family on the battlefield. He prayed, begging the saviors of our people to give him the strength to save his brother. Against all odds, he was heard! Feeling pity for him, one of the Demon Queen’s sons returned, bestowing on him the profound ability to tame the wild Forest: the very place he engaged his beloved brother in battle!”
A white-haired boy around the age of ten felt his little brother grip his hand tightly. His red eyes flicked down to the caramel-haired boy sitting to his left before looking to his elder brother on his right. His elder brother held the youngest of their brothers, Itama, in his lap as he made eye contact with the first boy and smiled.
“This is absurd, Hashirama.” The red-eyed boy grimaced as he addressed his dark-haired brother, “Why do we have to be here, we’ve heard this a hundred times.” The other two boys were as enraptured by the elder’s tale as the children surrounding them.
Hashirama snickered at his younger brother. “Maybe so Tobirama, but at least it’s amusing. It’s the tale of Asura: the First Keeper of the Forest.”
The brother gripping Tobirama’s left hand, Kawarama, shushed them and whispered, “Hashi, Tobi! Quiet! You’re distracting!”
The boys conceded and turned back to the shaman as the tale wrapped up. “A mere three centuries ago, the Accursed disappeared, withdrawing deep into the Forest without any warning. Many people believe them to have disappeared, but I assure you they have not! The Accursed armies still lurk deep within the Forest, their souls corrupting it little by little. They are recognizable by the darkness enshrouding them and turning their sclerae black. Their corneas are dyed a blood red from the flesh of our people they dine on! If you are ever to come across one of them, you must escape! Run! As fast as you can! If you can make it out of the Forest, they will not follow you.” The old man had a fervent glint in his eyes as he seemed to plead with the children.
Tobirama rolled his eyes and turned his attention past Kawarama and to the Forest beyond the edge of their settlement. Tobirama fancied himself to be a scholar and wouldn’t buy into the stories of Demon Queens and Accursed beings so easily.
It was just a bunch of trees and animals out there. He would know, he and his brothers ditched the settlement to explore there regularly!
The corners of his lips turned up in a small smirk. They were planning on doing it again tomorrow while everyone was still sleeping off tonight’s festivities.
The next morning, Tobirama found himself deep in the Forest. He smirked as he heard the giggles erupt from Itama as they sprinted further in, running from Hashirama as the eldest sprinted in another direction after Kawarama.
“Quick!” Itama whispered, “We have to hide while he’s distracted!”
Tobirama smiled genuinely at his little brother, nodding in agreement. “You hide around here; I’ll head that way.” He pointed in a random direction.
Itama nodded, beginning his search for a good hiding spot. Satisfied, Tobirama sprinted off again, heading deeper into the Forest until the trees began to thicken and grow taller. His breath was heavy as he eventually felt like he was far enough and nestled himself into roots at the base of an enormous tree. The canopy far above his head blocked most of the sunlight, the shadows hiding him well.
Tobirama focused on controlling his breathing, waiting for his brothers to find him as he rested in the roots. Seconds stretched into minutes until he felt he had been sitting there for nearly an hour when he heard a squeal of laughter echo through the trees. He smiled to himself. Itama had been found. Now all three of his brothers would be after him.
He chuckled under his breath as he peeked around the tree; he could hear his brothers laugh as they fumbled through the underbrush.
That’s when he noticed something dark flicker in the corner of his sight. He whipped his head forward again, his red eyes trained onto the trees in front of him. He squinted, studying the shadows for any movement.
There! One of the shadows flickered again, further away this time. What the hell is that, he thought, and why didn’t I feel its proximity? Tobirama had yet to encounter any animals like that, let alone one that quick. He glanced in the direction of his brothers as he bit his lip, his attention still on the shadows in front of him as he debated. Another subtle flicker and the distance between them doubled.
He darted after it without another thought.
He sprinted, the shadows darkening around him as the trees packed closer and closer together until he had to leap across their entwined roots. As the white-haired boy deftly gained on the moving shadow; it managed to keep just enough distance, move in just the right way through the shadows so he couldn’t quite make out what it was.
It began to weave in and out of the trees, darting in different directions randomly. Tobirama suddenly got the distinct impression it was mocking him. He growled to himself as he launched himself faster, springing after it and making short work of the distance between them. The thing flickered again, ducking into a cluster of roots.
Coming to a hard stop a few meters from the roots it was hiding in, Tobirama heaved for breath and massaged the light twinge in his knees. After a few seconds, he crept closer, lightly bouncing onto the knot of roots.
“I’ve got you now,” he mumbled, crouching down to get a better look into the shadows. He could hear its quiet deep breaths as he leaned in closer, propping his weight on his pale, dirty hand. He could just make out a tuft of wild black fur on something that was about the same size as himself. Wait… He hesitated a moment and squinted. Was that cloth?
The air around him chilled causing the sweat trickling down his back to make him shiver; his heart tripped over itself as the shadows seemed to grow, swallowing and suffocating him. The thing in the roots shifted, turning slightly and glowing red eyed met his own without flinching.
Fear gripped Tobirama at the sight of those eyes. Those red eyes with black sclerae that seemed to glow, even in the darkness. The most primal part of him reared its ugly head and he stumbled back, floundering over the roots. His mind blanked with terror, his instincts screaming and thrashing inside of him to run. His shoulder slammed in a tree as he scrambled back and his muscles twitched from the sudden dose of adrenaline. As fast as he could, he jumped up and pushed himself back down the path faster than he had first traveled it.
He could hardly see in the darkness of the Forest, hardly breathe, his primitive fear telling him that he was being chased, that he couldn’t stop, and that he had to run faster.
The terrified boy sprinted, pushing himself to run faster the further he ran from those eyes. He hardly noticed when the Forest around him lightened, the trees not as tall and further apart. He burst through the underbrush and slammed into something soft, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Tobirama lashed out, his fist digging under a ribcage as a strangled cry of panic finally escaped him.
“T-Tobirama!” Hashirama’s voice startled him out of his state just enough for him to be flipped over and pinned to the ground. He struggled, still in a state of half panic as his brother pressed his pale, sweaty face into the dirt and continued calm him further.
None of the words registered in Tobirama’s head, but the relief of hearing his brother’s soothing voice overwhelmed him. He choked on a sob and tears burned behind his red eyes as he squeezed them shut. He laid there trembling as his muscles cried out from overuse. He felt his brother flip him over gently and he cracked his eyes open, glossy from unshed tears. He had never been so happy to see the sky through the canopy behind his brother.
Hashirama pulled his white-haired brother into a seated position and squeezed him in a hug before holding him at arm’s length to inspect. Kawarama and Itama stumbled through the underbrush, falling onto their knees by their elder brothers with worried looks on their faces.
“What happened to you, Tobi?” Itama was the first to speak, his voice laced with barely concealed horror.
“Wh-what?”
“He’s right, Brother.” Kawarama reached out and pressed a finger to Tobirama’s shoulder, making him wince and flinch closer to Hashirama on his other side. His breath was still erratic, though his heart had slowed marginally.
Hashirama snapped his fingers to get Tobirama’s attention again. “Seriously Little Brother, what happened? You’ve been missing all day! And you’re a mess! You’re all cut up from the thorns in the bushes and your clothes are shredded.”
Tobirama looked startled at the information, glancing up at the sky again before assessing his clothes. “No way,” he whispered. It was evening and he was more a mess than he had ever been, thin trails of blood crisscrossing his skin everywhere he could see. Impossible, he wasn’t gone that long! Was he? He could swear it was only thirty minutes or so after he left his hiding spot, making around an hour and a half since he last saw Itama! It should still be late morning!
There was something strange with the Forest. Something that messed with his mind. He shook his head. No, there was nothing wrong with the Forest, it was just a forest. He breathed deeply, his stern red eyes meeting Hashirama’s worried dark brown as he answered their questions.
“Nothing. Nothing happened. I got lost.”
Hashirama was skeptical. “You’re admitting to getting lost? You don’t admit to stuff like that…”
Tobirama scowled, pushing him away and standing without help as his brothers giggled. “Come on. I want a bath.” His muscles had stiffened a bit from the lack of cooling down properly after all the running he had done.
“Seriously though.” Kawarama frowned again. “We were about to go back and get help to find you.”
His brothers stood up around him and they began making their way back to their settlement, as they all began talking casually.
As they passed the edge of the trees, Tobirama slowed, falling behind his brothers as he glanced back at the Forest. He pointedly ignored Hashirama’s worried glances.
Nothing. There were no flickering shadows, no strange movement, nothing out of place in the trees.
Of course there weren’t. Because the stories told last night weren’t real. His mind just played tricks on him after hearing the tale. He shook his head. The Accursed weren’t real. They weren’t real yesterday, they aren’t real today, and they wouldn’t be real tomorrow.
As Tobirama reunited with his brothers, a porcelain hand slowly reached out from the tangle of roots deep in the dark parts of the Forest. Ever so slowly, a boy with wild black hair pulled himself up to sit on them. The boy wasn’t much older than Tobirama and was dressed from his toes to his jaw in dark robes, the only skin showing was his face and hands. Strings of feathers, animal teeth, and small bones draped around his neck and around his waist; a single serrated blade rested in a sheath on his hip. He fiddled with the falcon skull on one of his necklaces as he quietly stared in the direction the white-haired boy had ran.
A few minutes later, another boy dropped from the higher branches of the trees and landed silently next to the one sitting on the roots. He had long black hair and was dressed in a similar fashion as the first boy. He looked at the slightly older boy’s profile before looking in the direction the Invader that aggressively chased his brother had ran. “You should have killed him,” he whispered, his words hanging in the shadows between them.
The older boy shook his head slowly. “He was red-eyed.”
The younger boy did a double take before scoffing. “Impossible. Only our people are the Blessed.” He wasn’t sure if he was more taken aback by his elder brother’s words or the soft tone they were spoken in.
“He did. I saw them.”
“Then you should get your eyes checked by the healers.” The younger boy’s voice was crisp in the still air of the Forest. “Whatever, let’s just go before Father sends someone after us.”
The older boy hummed as he followed his younger brother deeper into the Forest, his mind still on the beautiful Invader’s eyes. He wasn’t crazy, nor blind. His lips curled into a smirk as he made up his mind. He saw the Invader first, so he had dibs. He would find the other boy again.
And the next time their paths crossed he would take what was his.
GOOD MORNING YOU WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING!!!!! I HOPE YOUR DAY IS FANTASTIC!!!!!!!❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤😁❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
HOW DARE YOU THROW SUCH WONDERFUL LOVE AND JOY AT ME. GO THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE
Uhhhh 25 and 37 for the Uncomfortably Close meme thing?
25. What color socks are you wearing?
I AM A HEATHEN MY FEET ARE NAKIES AT HOME ALWAYS
37. Favorite swear word?
If we’re going by most often used, it’d have to be fuck. But I curse like a sailor and don’t have really strong feelings towards one curse over another. Though I do have some fun with what I like to call “Walmart Cursing”, which is just where you say random gibberish in place of curse words (I call it Walmart Cursing because I got into the habit while working there, cause I could have gotten fired for saying “God Damnit” but no one’s going to fire me for say “Oh piddle nuggets!”)
