Author: BlueRose Rating: T (PG-13) Pairing: Sasuke/Sakura Warnings: Few bad words… Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I damn sure don’t make a single red cent for this either. So please, don’t sue the Blue Author Notes: Just a little short I whipped up for Sasuke/Sakura Month 2018 (#ssm18
🌘 Day 11 – Eclipse). This is unedited, so please be gentle
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember how they ended up in this position. Sure, he knew how they got to this site. Navigating a known trail between two villages, they veered off the beaten path to rest near a stream, surrounded by the impossibly tall trees in Maboroshi Forest. The next hour or so was spent eating a light lunch and cooling off in the shade the trees provided. Taking stock of inventory and a few other mundane things took up the rest of the time. But how did they end up here?
SauSaku Month 2018 – Day 10: Anywhere Rating: T (Just a tiny speck of language) Context: AU/Supernatural’ish A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it! This is part 2 of 3.
“You do realize the implications of your actions, don’t you?” Fugaku questioned, his voice bleeding in well concealed agitation. “Has this been anyone else, I would have struck them down already! As rulers, it is our duty to ensure all our people follow the treaties that have been enacted by the Higher Council and our own to guarantee peace between all supernatural beings.”
Sasuke stared at his father with a near emotionless expression as he paced the floors of his office back and forth. He sat on a chair, immobile, and let him lecture. His mother sat on another chair next to him and gave him a reprimanding look that looked unusual on her always smiling face. Itachi on the other hand stood next to the door, leaning on the door frame, and kept quiet.
“Furthermore, the Council of Angels is demanding punishment for your insolence and they will not be silenced or appeased for very long. They hold too much influence, I’m afraid, so punishment is what they’ll have,” Fugaku ended. His hard features morphed into a tired and worn expression. Sasuke did feel bad for having caused so much trouble for his parents, but he could not bring himself to apologize. Not when it meant apologizing for meeting his soulmate.
“Things are complicated, Sasuke,” his mother began softly, “and we certainly don’t want to dictate who you can and can’t see.”
“You could have chosen anywhere else to do this and it wouldn’t have been a complication, but this party was the last place for such frivolity,” Fugaku added. “Do you understand what this could mean for us, son?”
“The Council of Angels have been looking for any excuse to bring charges against us, father,” Itachi stepped in. “If you recall, in the ancient times, angels and demons were in constant war with each other. Unlike us, they haven’t let go of old grudges and prejudices.”
“But why her?” Fugaku demanded frustratingly.
“Because she’s my soulmate!” Sasuke finally snapped. He leapt from his seat and stood face-to-face with his father, who froze in shock. “I don’t give a fuck what she is, only that I love her and I am not going to let her go.”
The silence in the air was palpable. No one dared to break the stillness of the room as Sasuke’s words truly sunk in. Fugaku closed his eyes in defeat, sighing, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Mikoto rose from her seat and kissed the cheek of her youngest son before enveloping him in a loving embrace. Itachi looked on, smirking.
“No, my son, you cannot let her go,” agreed Fugaku. “Besides, it seems like your souls have already recognized each other.” He pointed to the silvery tattoo on his wrist that used to be all black.
“We shall speak to the councils,” Mikoto smiled reassuringly. “There are ancient laws regarding the protection of soulmates that must be abided, no matter the race.”
“Trust in mother and father, little brother,” Itachi chuckled and stepped away from the door. “They are the King and Queen of the Underworld for a reason.”
True to their word, his mother and father spoke with their council and petitioned a hearing at the Higher Council to state Sasuke’s intentions of seeking his soulmate, regardless of their differences. Sasuke could barely contain his need to march right up to those damn arrogant angels and taking back Sakura. The crystalline tear drops running down her cheeks as her brethren dragged her away from his arms was burned into his mind and filled him with rage.
The days since have dragged on. His parents have been caught up in their duties and other meetings that he hasn’t been able to sit down and talk with them. Not even Itachi had been spared for any free time, therefore, he’s taken to training. After taking care of any duties that came up, Sasuke would disappear for hours at a time in the late afternoon and well into the night. His mind was filled with too much chaos concerning his situation and the restlessness was making his inner demon very irritable.
Without saying a word to anyone of his whereabouts, he’d slip into the forest and walk for miles until he reached a small clearing near the center. A small pond was etched into the ground under a dark brown oak tree. The waters were quiet and rippled on occasion as the energy from the moon pushed and pulled them. Tiny specs of shimmering light crept up the sides underneath the pond, making it a betwitching sight. Sasuke trained ruthlessly under the pale moonlight until he could no longer feel his limbs and ended up collapsing on the ground, breathing heavily from exertion.
It was as he lay there on the cool, dewy grass staring up at the star-filled veil of the night that his heart beat against his cage the hardest. He wished he could be wherever his Sakura was… The loneliness was eating at him and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this before he ended up doing something he would regret.
A/N: This is written a style that isn’t my usual and won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but I like it for this and hope you do as well. Lastly, this is set in the pre-Shippuden time skip.
She had willed herself to forget, begged her mind to wander, but she couldn’t forget the anniversary. Not now. Not when the silvery evidence of Moonrise shone so clearly on her skin…
Her body went rigid. The pain was coming back, thoughts of him were coming back. It had been exactly twenty-nine days since her Lunatic dream had last invaded her mind. Since he had invaded her mind. Since she had allowed herself to think of him, …to feel anything at all.
She decided it was the Moon causing her insane dreams—that was it. That had to be it. Seeing the Full Moon simply reminded her of him….
Because he was the Moon.
Solid.
Strong.
Pale.
Devastatingly beautiful.
Untouchable.
Unreachable.
Encased only by a halo of darkness.
Covered in craters, wounds of the past.
Never to be fully healed.
Only to be further mottled and marred.
Surrounded by bright lights longing to illuminate his constant Umbra.
But unable to touch those radiant stars.
…
…
…
He was the Moon, but so was she.
…
…
…
Her fingers reflexively curled inward, nails poised to cut crimson Crescents into her palms, but she caught herself and flung them out in a quaking fan.
No.
She wouldn’t resort to that. She she’d sworn after his last apparition that she wouldn’t allow him to interfere. Not again (not even in her nightmares). And she had prepared for this, after all: she had acquired a silver bullet to keep the Moon at bay. She emptied the contents of a small bottle in her trembling hand, weighing (medically, scientifically, practically…) how many it would take to knock her out cold, to wave away any chances of dreams….
—
She felt him there; she didn’t sense the proximity of his chakra—no! She felt his body on hers, his lips on hers, his fingers twining with hers.
She slowly unlidded her dazed, anesthetized eyes.
He withdrew (for just a moment) to give her a handsome smirk, and she was dazzled. The charcoal depths of his eyes, the way his pale face reflected the Moonlight—was the Moonlight…. It wasn’t fair how beautiful he was, it wasn’t fair for any one man to be able to incite such lust in her! It wasn’t fair that she should hate him for all the pain he caused her…yet all she could do was love him in that moment.
A sure hand slid up her bare thigh and under the loose, white shirt in which she slept, gliding over her cool stomach with born grace. His air-soft lips gently skimmed over her neck, constricting her breathing with the touch of a feather. She cried out softly and tilted her head back, begging for more of his awakening touch, begging to feel something again.
Years and months and weeks and days and hours and minutes and seconds of pain and the agony of nothing had worn her…. So she succumbed.
To her fear, her anger, her guilt, her lust, her love.
She let the waves of emotions roll over her, yet she didn’t drown as she had expected. She stayed gently afloat, hovering placidly above rage and hate and fright and blame. She would give to him whatever he asked, so long as he continued to bring life back into her veins.
A dream. Can I only feel alive in a dream…?
The thought didn’t quite hit her, just drifted serenely above her head, and she didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to feel life again, and his hot touches seared her with sensation. His knuckles flowed leisurely over her neck as he charily held himself above her petite frame, cognizant of his mass. His lips caressed hers so chastely, so delicately, they wouldn’t have broken the thinnest thread of silk, left a spider’s web unmarred.
He was far gentler than she remembered…but he was in her dreams, after all.
She kissed him back, but so tentatively, so faintly, for she thought the slightest movement would wake her into her nightmarish reality, would dispel her Moonlit dreamland. Her lips made another contact with his, and she couldn’t help but deeply inhale his scent, a breath of life.
Dreams, it occurred to her, didn’t all have to be nightmares (or so she desperately hoped).
She carefully wrapped an alabaster arm around his neck and brought him down on her, threading her fingers through his dark hair. She tightened her grip on the hand around hers. For just a moment, she resisted allowing their mouths to collide, but she disregarded whatever thought had stopped her and let their bodies meld, his long hair dusting her forehead and cheeks.
She hadn’t been touched in so long, let alone kissed (ever). But it felt so perfect, and she knew she had to be dreaming (but she didn’t quite notice). He felt so natural, so masterful above her. She let him guide her lips with his until she found a soft, delicate rhythm to follow. She felt his tongue deftly flick across her bottom lip, and she parted for him with a low keen, reveling in the heat of his body, his mouth. She traced her dainty fingers over her love’s strong shoulders, imprinting her hallucination into her mind as well as she could. He was taking everything so slowly, being so careful with her, savoring every second.
It was (ironically) everything she had ever dreamed of.
He stroked her tongue with his as he put his weight on an elbow. He tenderly held her face, unhurriedly running his thumb over her cheek bone, as if checking for evidence of tears. He pulled away just long enough for both of them to catch a quick breath, to see the longing in the other’s eyes, and then descended on her body again. She felt whole with his body pressed so closely to hers, with him in her arms. So warm in his arms, so at homein her own house for the first time in years.
Home is wherever he is,she realized.
He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently, and he stole the moan from her throat. Pleasure undulated through her limbs before settling in her stomach, coiling and unfurling. She became more confident in her explorations of his mouth and traced his lips with curiosity and wonder, gliding over his tongue with hers. She his groan resonated through his chest into hers. She felt that deep sound everywhere and pulled him closer.
She loved being kissed. She loved being held. She loved being caressed. She loved feeling another heartbeat on her. She loved simply being touched. She loved loving him.
SasuSaku Month 