#aranlae

@aranlae asked: Oropher to Legolas: ❝ i’m not asking what they would have wanted. i want to know what you want. ❞ [X]

Legolas wasn't expecting that ... It wasn't that he couldn't usually voice what he wanted, but he knew that being who he was... things were just different. There were expectations to be met. So being explicitly asked what he wanted, ... it caught him off guard a little.

@aranlae​ | Hashirama ❝ you’re safe with me, i swear it. ❞

Darkness surrounded his field of vision. If Itama hadn't been previously chastisied and even beaten because of his fear of the dark, he would have started panicking. But, Butsuma Senju's harsh words kept repeating in his mind, strong shinobi excel in the darkness. Because that was who they were right? Ninjas creeping in the dark, fulfilling the missions of their clans.

The next thing he registered was the burning that travelled from his neck across his back, and Itama's once calm mind fell into panic in an instant. His breathing quickened as pain shot through his nerves like fire. "Please, can anyone hear me?" he called out, tears welling up behind his closed eyelids. "Is anyone there?"

Voice hitching as the pain started to turn unbearably hot. He was leaning against some sort of a hard plain, a rock maybe. He slid a bit further from it, the rough surface agitated his wound.

"It hurts." He sniffed, rubbing an arm across his eyes then noticed the blindfolds. Oh, now it made sense why there was some constriction around his head. Sobering up when realisation hit him. Was he kidnapped? The last thing he remembered was going into the Uchiha territory to avenge Kawarama, to atone for his fatal mistake.

@aranlae​ wrote:  “  i’ll still be here when you wake.  ” Oropher to Thranduil !!! hello

    In mid-winter, there is death. Cold air seeps into the root of all things, causing life to shudder one last time before growing still. Life would not come again until spring with budding leaves and a warmth in the breeze that brought solace to even the weariest of hearts. So it was, and so it would always be.

   But life never came back the same, and it certainly would never be the same after this particular mid-winter. There was little Thranduil could do to rid himself of the sights--- of kin slain upon the ground whilst others were seized and taken into the forest, not yet to be found. All that he had known--- all that there had been--- and all that was yet to be--- was gone. Plucked from the decay, Thranduil left the forests and the great river, their memory soft, yet bitter--- a great beauty stained by death.

    Endure, endure, endure, spoke his heart. Or did such whisperings come from the very earth upon which his feet tread? The young elf could not place it. Not yet. It left him more alone than perhaps even he knew at present.

   And yet, in such a moment of despair, there was one familiar voice that broke the silence.  

    “I’ll still be here when you wake.”

    Thranduil turned, pulling himself away from his thoughts. His eyes searched his father’s face for but a moment--- a son in search of his father’s love. Slowly, he bowed his head. “But we will never go back.” It wasn’t spoken entirely as a question, but rather it was a moment wherein the shock of loss slipped from his tongue. 

Her visits to the Uchiha compound (or what was left of it) were not exactly frequent, but Sakura still made it a point to be the one to personally attend to Madara when those times came. For the most part his physical health was in check (as much as it could be, per the reports of the medic in charge); still, aside from assessing Madara’s mental health, the visit of someone in her position at the hospital was helpful for the records. 

Since emigrating to Konoha, Fuso had but one objective on her mind: to make a home enough that she could one day seek Nagato and a better life than the one she’d failed to provide even before her husband’s death. Sometimes, it seemed like Amegakure’s torrential rains had followed her all the way to Konoha, shadowing her even when she left to places far away from that place. Of course, she had to be be careful; Uzumaki didn’t have good reputations since the downfall of Uzushio, even some time before. To the outside shinobi world, they were monsters that needed to be tamed or eliminated... but Fuso didn’t care. 

She just wanted her family again. 

In the Rain Country, it was risky to venture so close to her old home, and she honestly had no wish to... but she clung to the hope that Nagato was somewhere near. In a small hamlet she remembered, Fuso sought refuge from the endless downpour, hanging the mantle she’d worn on a hook in the entryway, grateful for the warmth the moment she ventured further inside the izakaya.