#shatteredlight

Shatteredlight - A serious and loyal she-cat. Shatteredlight wishes she could be as careless as she once was when she was a kit and an apprentice, but she has responsibilities now, she has to be there for her clan, they rely on her, after all a good warrior would die for their clan, and Shatteredlight would do so if that was required of her. Shatteredlight is a great believer in the warrior code and she lets it guide her in her day to day life, but she doesn’t let it rule her entirely, is she feels that her clan can be served better by slightly deviating from the code then so be it, she will always analyse a situation to ensure she is doing the right thing, 15/10

Muddyfern - A kind and relaxed tom. Muddyfern takes life at his own pace, he doesn’t like to be rushed unless it’s a matter of urgency, he will often be found sunning himself when he isn’t doing his duties and is always up for a chat with any cat. Muddyfern loves kits and will often play with them to help keep them out of their resting parents’ fur, his favourite game to play is waking around looking for a kit that he is pretending not to know is right beneath his belly, before pretending he’s going to lie down for a sleep while the purring kit is still “hiding”, he loves their playful squeals of terror as he pretends to flop down on them, 15/10

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//OW, but honestly, this fits Kakashi perfectly.

The Hatake boy didn’t usually have such outbursts. He didn’t usually care, or so he let on, cold and hallow in the chest. Save if you were to ask many who’d been tasked with dealing with him on a mission before he was appointed to Naruto Sensei’s three man team. Those would say if he did have a heart, it was a rotten one. Yet here he was, unable to leave the side of his Sensei, battered and bloodied. Thanks to himself. The wounds inflicted on the older male were meant for him, and Naruto had been an idiot to step in. Kakashi was certain because of it, their mission was compromised completely.

Dark eyes shift away momentarily, scanning the areas dark with shadows in their perimeter. Things were quiet now, sans the sound of Naruto, questioning if he was hurt. Kakashi almost wanted to scoff about it.Say that wasn’t something anyone should be concerned with right now. Instead, he simply shakes his head despite a stinging in his shoulder. Naruto was right about one thing. They needed to get out of there before things turns further south.

Minato waited until the little ball of fur and feathers had landed safely before setting down the bowl and reaching up with his other hand to inspect the paint smears on the little creature, touch gentle and firm.

“You know he’s right,” he told the little wolpertinger.  “If this dries on you, it will be even more of a mess to get off and it might stick your feathers together.”  Gentle he rubbed the fur of the animal’s cheeks while he spoke.  Then he looked down at his son.

“I thought I would make pancakes for lunch.  We can add jam to them and powdered sugar if you want.  I’ve got lemon cake in the oven cooking.  Your mother’s old recipe.”

Lowering his hand, he offered the little orange companion back to his son.

“No sassing,” he warned the wolpertinger.  “My son is right.  Let him take care of you.”  He offered both of them a smile.  “And when you’re done, we’ll have lunch!”

Minato glanced up, pausing his stirring as he caught sight of first his son and then his son’s wizzing companion.  Minato’s own wolpertinger was currently on the kitchen counter, all dignity - if you didn’t count the parsley sprig sticking out of its mouth or the measuring spoon it had hanging from one onxy horn.  Whistling softly, Minato held up his wrist, hand in a loose fist for the small fluttering ball of orange that had followed his son into the kitchen.

Send me “bruises?” for my muse’s reaction to yours catching them secretly tending to their wounds.

If he goes to the clinic it will be hours before they’re satisfied and release him and all he really wants is his own bed and a few hours of sleep before he hads to be up again and at the office.  Being hokage means taking assignments that are too ugly for anyone else.  It means taking responsibility for that kind of work personally.  It means protecting the hearts of the people that serve you as much as they serve Konoha.  Minato does the dark work because he can - and because it’s his duty as the leader of the village. 

No one stains their souls when his is capable of absorbing it instead.

He’d thought he’d been quiet when he’d come in, slipping through the bathroom window and closing the bathroom door before breaking into the first aid kit to try to stop the worst of the blood flow and patch himself up enough for that sleep his body so desperately craves.  His son was due back from his own mission tonight and Minato had sensed his chakra in the bedroom.  Been relieved to find his son back and sleeping he presumed.  His son... his son had enough expected of him.  Jinchuriki and hokage’s child - the older he grew, the more he shouldered the darkness as well.  It wasn’t what Minato would have wished but -

He should have known better though and he wasn’t entirely surprised when the door clicked and opened to reveal a son that wasn’t as sleep blurred and newly woken as Minato would have hoped.

Waiting up for each other was a bad habit.  And a hard one to break.  Minato offered a small, tight smile, tired and apologetic and yet - despite his previous wishing, still glad to see his son even if he knew he should prefer him in bed and asleep.  Instead, he murmured:

send me ❛ brush ❜ for my character’s reaction to your character running their fingers through my character’s hair.

He’s buried deep in books and papers and his third - or is it fourth? - cup of tea has long since gone cold.  There’s a headache building behind his eyebrows, one of those sore spots that’s currently only a vague throb and the tension between his shoulders is hardening muscle there again.  He’s looking at a mess and it’s a mess that’s apparently gone on for quite a while until someone caught it and brought it to his attention.  Long messes are always the hardest to clean up and, while Minato’s finally got an inkling of how to go about fixing this one, finally, it’s going to be an all night struggle to make sure he untangles it completely and properly, without any loose ends to come back and knot up again.

And then he feels the brush through his hair and for a second, as he lifts his head automatically he thinks it’s his wife’s fingers, soft smile already touching his lips, half apology for being distracted on his lips -

but his wife is dead.  For ... years now and when he looks up its into blue worried eyes instead of lavender ones.  The smile shifts, changes - but not by much.  It’s still soft and apologetic, even if it goes a little more wry and easier for his son.  For just a moment though he tips his head, keeps his hair under those long fingers, recognizing the affection and needing it, appreciating it, soaking it in.