historically inaccurate but well-meaning t-rex (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scriveyner) wrote2015-06-06 03:50 pm
scriveyner) wrote2015-06-06 03:50 pm
Entry tags:
- au: nightbreed,
- au: werewolf,
- character: akino myojin,
- character: mari maya,
- character: masayoshi hazama,
- character: masayoshi hazama (werewolf),
- character: moe morita,
- character: sumi ishihara,
- genre: multi-part,
- genre: urban fantasy,
- pairing: gotou/masayoshi,
- series: samurai flamenco,
- wc: under 5000
Samurai Flamenco (Nightbreed) - Gifts & Curses [5] [Gotoyoshi]
Title: gifts & curses [5]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Nightbreed
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Keiko, Masanori
Rating: T
Length: 1231
Summary: At least it wasn't a full cycle.
Masayoshi lay in the center of the large bed and heaved a huge sigh, ears flicking backwards and tail thumping. He'd had the forethought to turn on the television before the moon rose, he'd tuned it to a channel that ran some shows he wouldn't mind watching, but being confined to the hotel room was stifling.
It didn't help that all he could think about was this was the first moon in months, if not years, that he hadn't been at Gotou's side. At least it wasn't the full cycle, just the last moon – but it still made him cranky in a way he didn't want to admit.
Ishihara had been here – she was going over the plan for the next day with him when he'd stood up suddenly, unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh,” Ishihara said – he'd changed in front of her for model shoots before, so that wasn't so much an issue to him, but she was clearly made nervous by the fact he was going to change. “Is it that late? I should go, then.”
Masayoshi had felt a little pang at that. “You're not in any danger, Ishihara-san,” he said, hanging his shirt over the back of a desk chair.
“I know,” Ishihara said. “I'm just – not used to all this. Scheduling you around the moon is a lot different than actually dealing with it.”
It was such an ingrained part of his life now, all of it, that it was a little bit strange to remember the rest of the world didn't even realize that werewolves and witches existed outside of fiction. And it was different, than stepping forward as a superhero, showing off to the world and fighting in the public eye – this wasn't just him, anymore, wasn't just a handful of heroes but a whole community of people all over the world who lived under the radar, and preferred to keep it that way.
Ishihara tucked her tablet into her bag. “The moon sets late tomorrow morning, right? You'll miss the breakfast, but that's all right, we'll work it out.”
“Thanks,” Masayoshi said, standing awkwardly in just his pants. “For everything, Ishihara-san.”
She smiled at him and let herself out, and he slipped out of his pants just in time, as the tingles started to get really bad. After the change he'd paced around a little, back and forth, feeling the energy boil under his skin, annoyed at the walls that caged him until he gave up and flopped across the bed and tried not to think about how much nicer it would be if he had Gotou here to lean against.
#
He didn't like to sleep, in wolf form, because his dreams were so rarely his own. They belonged to his wolf-self here, and he submerged in them, felt like he was going under, losing the silent battle between animal and man.
He dreamed of hunting in packs, of snow tundra and caribou – great lumbering beasts with racks of antlers large and menacing – where the air was cold and crisp and clear, where the viscera of the felled behemoth steamed as it spilled from a torn belly.
He dreamed of playing in the spring sunlight, tumbling down hills of green grass, snapping and growling at the others, splashing through streams cold still with the melting snow.
He dreamed of the moon, larger than he'd ever seen it in an autumn sky, and one by one they'd turn their faces to it and bay, a chorus of moon-song, echoing out into the night.
He dreamed of lying on the floor, snout between his paws, staring into the corner where twin pairs of golden eyes regarded him suspiciously, emerging finally, cautiously, half-grown and half-feral still.
He dreamed of the white wolf with the golden eyes.
#
“Hazama-kun!” Myojin Akino called cheerfully as he entered the tea shop, trailed by Mari and Moe, hand in hand. “How good to see you!” She took note of his twin tails, smiled and swept around the counter. “You've brought me new customers, I see.”
“Hello!” Moe said cheerfully.
Mari tugged on the brim of her ball cap, other hand still tight in Moe's own. She was glowering quiet fiercely at Masayoshi, who had on a positively beatific expression, having roused her from her hangover nap. “I hear from Koji-san that you have an excellent hangover remedy,” Masayoshi said.
“I've got some tea that can help with that, yes,” Akino said. She peered at Mari. “Say, you look familiar,” she said, and Mari tugged the brim of her cap down over her eyes, shying away.
“Mari-chan's just cranky,” Moe said. “Sorry to intrude, I'm-”
“Oh!” Akino said, clapping her hands together. “You're from MMM! I thought I recognized you!” She glanced over at Masayoshi. “Why didn't you tell me you knew them?” Akino gently steered Mari and Moe toward one of the tables by the window. “Sit, sit – I'll make Hazama-kun help me fetch the tea as punishment.”
Her hair had faded pink and blue stripes in it now, cut much shorter than the last time Masayoshi had seen her, but still long enough to pull into short, spiky pigtails. “Sorry, I didn't mean to bring them,” Masayoshi said, voice low as he pulled jars from the wall behind the counter at Akino's direction.
“It's fine, I serve mostly regular people anyway. They don't know, then?”
He shook his head. “I was going to come by and ask, I had some questions about something and Kennichi and Koji-san are being very indirect.”
Akino looked over at Masayoshi, now holding three very large jars of tea leaves. She nodded her head. “Come back by tonight,” she said, and patted his cheek. “I close up after dark, but I'll spell the door to let you in.”
Masayoshi thought about his schedule, then nodded his head.
#
Mari said, chin in hand as she watched Masayoshi across the small shop. “I think he's flirting with her.”
“He is not, Mari-chan,” Moe said, taking a sip of tea from the cup provided by Akino.
“He is too.” She squinted. “Poor Gotou, cuckolded this early.”
Masayoshi's head tilted, and he looked across the shop directly at Mari, who blinked and sat up. Masayoshi shook his head once, like he was clearing it, and turned back to Akino, who was directing him still, putting him to work behind the counter while she had someone tall to boss around.
“Do you think he heard me?”
“I think maybe you should drink your tea,” Moe said, and pushed Mari's cup toward her. “You'll feel better.”
“Mizuki was still puking into the toilet, I won anyway,” Mari said. She turned her glower to Moe, who looked immaculately cute in her bouncy dress and upswept hair. “Wait, weren't you drinking too? Why aren't you hungover as fuck too?”
Moe took another delicate sip of her tea, and smiled.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Nightbreed
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Keiko, Masanori
Rating: T
Length: 1231
Summary: At least it wasn't a full cycle.
Masayoshi lay in the center of the large bed and heaved a huge sigh, ears flicking backwards and tail thumping. He'd had the forethought to turn on the television before the moon rose, he'd tuned it to a channel that ran some shows he wouldn't mind watching, but being confined to the hotel room was stifling.
It didn't help that all he could think about was this was the first moon in months, if not years, that he hadn't been at Gotou's side. At least it wasn't the full cycle, just the last moon – but it still made him cranky in a way he didn't want to admit.
Ishihara had been here – she was going over the plan for the next day with him when he'd stood up suddenly, unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh,” Ishihara said – he'd changed in front of her for model shoots before, so that wasn't so much an issue to him, but she was clearly made nervous by the fact he was going to change. “Is it that late? I should go, then.”
Masayoshi had felt a little pang at that. “You're not in any danger, Ishihara-san,” he said, hanging his shirt over the back of a desk chair.
“I know,” Ishihara said. “I'm just – not used to all this. Scheduling you around the moon is a lot different than actually dealing with it.”
It was such an ingrained part of his life now, all of it, that it was a little bit strange to remember the rest of the world didn't even realize that werewolves and witches existed outside of fiction. And it was different, than stepping forward as a superhero, showing off to the world and fighting in the public eye – this wasn't just him, anymore, wasn't just a handful of heroes but a whole community of people all over the world who lived under the radar, and preferred to keep it that way.
Ishihara tucked her tablet into her bag. “The moon sets late tomorrow morning, right? You'll miss the breakfast, but that's all right, we'll work it out.”
“Thanks,” Masayoshi said, standing awkwardly in just his pants. “For everything, Ishihara-san.”
She smiled at him and let herself out, and he slipped out of his pants just in time, as the tingles started to get really bad. After the change he'd paced around a little, back and forth, feeling the energy boil under his skin, annoyed at the walls that caged him until he gave up and flopped across the bed and tried not to think about how much nicer it would be if he had Gotou here to lean against.
He didn't like to sleep, in wolf form, because his dreams were so rarely his own. They belonged to his wolf-self here, and he submerged in them, felt like he was going under, losing the silent battle between animal and man.
He dreamed of hunting in packs, of snow tundra and caribou – great lumbering beasts with racks of antlers large and menacing – where the air was cold and crisp and clear, where the viscera of the felled behemoth steamed as it spilled from a torn belly.
He dreamed of playing in the spring sunlight, tumbling down hills of green grass, snapping and growling at the others, splashing through streams cold still with the melting snow.
He dreamed of the moon, larger than he'd ever seen it in an autumn sky, and one by one they'd turn their faces to it and bay, a chorus of moon-song, echoing out into the night.
He dreamed of lying on the floor, snout between his paws, staring into the corner where twin pairs of golden eyes regarded him suspiciously, emerging finally, cautiously, half-grown and half-feral still.
He dreamed of the white wolf with the golden eyes.
“Hazama-kun!” Myojin Akino called cheerfully as he entered the tea shop, trailed by Mari and Moe, hand in hand. “How good to see you!” She took note of his twin tails, smiled and swept around the counter. “You've brought me new customers, I see.”
“Hello!” Moe said cheerfully.
Mari tugged on the brim of her ball cap, other hand still tight in Moe's own. She was glowering quiet fiercely at Masayoshi, who had on a positively beatific expression, having roused her from her hangover nap. “I hear from Koji-san that you have an excellent hangover remedy,” Masayoshi said.
“I've got some tea that can help with that, yes,” Akino said. She peered at Mari. “Say, you look familiar,” she said, and Mari tugged the brim of her cap down over her eyes, shying away.
“Mari-chan's just cranky,” Moe said. “Sorry to intrude, I'm-”
“Oh!” Akino said, clapping her hands together. “You're from MMM! I thought I recognized you!” She glanced over at Masayoshi. “Why didn't you tell me you knew them?” Akino gently steered Mari and Moe toward one of the tables by the window. “Sit, sit – I'll make Hazama-kun help me fetch the tea as punishment.”
Her hair had faded pink and blue stripes in it now, cut much shorter than the last time Masayoshi had seen her, but still long enough to pull into short, spiky pigtails. “Sorry, I didn't mean to bring them,” Masayoshi said, voice low as he pulled jars from the wall behind the counter at Akino's direction.
“It's fine, I serve mostly regular people anyway. They don't know, then?”
He shook his head. “I was going to come by and ask, I had some questions about something and Kennichi and Koji-san are being very indirect.”
Akino looked over at Masayoshi, now holding three very large jars of tea leaves. She nodded her head. “Come back by tonight,” she said, and patted his cheek. “I close up after dark, but I'll spell the door to let you in.”
Masayoshi thought about his schedule, then nodded his head.
Mari said, chin in hand as she watched Masayoshi across the small shop. “I think he's flirting with her.”
“He is not, Mari-chan,” Moe said, taking a sip of tea from the cup provided by Akino.
“He is too.” She squinted. “Poor Gotou, cuckolded this early.”
Masayoshi's head tilted, and he looked across the shop directly at Mari, who blinked and sat up. Masayoshi shook his head once, like he was clearing it, and turned back to Akino, who was directing him still, putting him to work behind the counter while she had someone tall to boss around.
“Do you think he heard me?”
“I think maybe you should drink your tea,” Moe said, and pushed Mari's cup toward her. “You'll feel better.”
“Mizuki was still puking into the toilet, I won anyway,” Mari said. She turned her glower to Moe, who looked immaculately cute in her bouncy dress and upswept hair. “Wait, weren't you drinking too? Why aren't you hungover as fuck too?”
Moe took another delicate sip of her tea, and smiled.