#like uhhh i wonder what else can be applied to that.... the way she trailed off

[dragonstoned]

taichi/touma was always the plan

yes way, tai, you dumb disaster bi

hear me out ok? i tried to be brief. tried. :D so first: why didn’t kaito just go the whole way and have an arc of them dating!?!? because kaito didn’t want to. that doesn’t mean hints weren’t there from the start, that this was unplanned. it’s just clearer in hindsight bc few thought shonen jump+ would go there.

there’re already great posts about taichi being bi but lemme breeze through-- there’s the suspect looks and blushes he gives touma (ex: above pic). flattering, sexy shots of touma from taichi’s POV. his behavior, thoughts, and epic meltdown after touma confesses; far too strong for just a straight dude dealing with being confessed to.

“but the manga was 52 chapters of romance with futaba!” look at the chapter 1 splash page. three hands in a love triangle. taichi+touma’s relationship is intensely and lovingly portrayed: highs, lows, tenderness. touma is shoved into the romantic tension more than warranted for simple unrequited suffering. remember when futaba+taichi get together? the cut to gayngst and “hey touma, what about you” right in the middle of it? we learn they’re dating on a dark page after a blushy touma+taichi scene as if to say “oh no! what about touma’s heart now?” btw taichi+touma is not wholly immune to romance tropes. heck there’s a kabedon lol. futaba even says taichi’s considering touma.

futaba+taichi’s relationship is meaningful and sweet. but later on, their romance doesn’t really get developed, especially from taichi’s end. like, they exchange charms but those never become significant unlike touma’s bday gift. they’re faced with separation in college but it doesn’t generate much dramatic tension in the story. on the other hand after that talk, taichi thinks about what he loves and wants for the future and immediately flashbacks to touma’s words and touma’s Bittersweet Yearning Face. futaba+taichi still have cute moments but the relationship takes a backseat narratively, which is... not usually what you want for your endgame

again, how taichi acts after touma’s confession is... uh. he has good reason to be distracted but it’s still not encouraging? the phone call where he says “i love you” but then “i don’t talk to me about touma” + hanging up like a repressed asshole refusing to face Inconvenient Feelings? the way futaba’s insecurity doesn’t get onscreen reassurance from him and is validated by the fact that he married touma in the end lol? and after going apeshit when touma stops coming to school, it’s interesting that what takes him out of his long BSOD is “best friend power” in the charm. an affirmation of taichi+touma’s friendship, and happiness without competition, but also what stopped touma from confessing in an earlier scene, instead maintaining the status quo between him and taichi lol

“but he no-homo’d him at the beach!” he himself says: just because the feelings aren’t the same doesn’t mean they’re not there. yet. what’s important to him is to keep touma around despite the difficulties. and when he says he’d been of jealous not of touma exactly but of how touma is around his friends it seems like nothing but i uh, hm. his other big realization here is that futaba inspired him. he’d wanted to help her because he wanted to change, too, like her. which is warm and lovely but not super romantic and actually kinda echoes futaba’s “ideal vs jealousy” epiphany about attraction lol hmm.

also. this manga doesn’t treat high school decisions are permanent, quite the opposite. SO!! in conclusion!!!

between taichi's latent attraction to touma from the start, opened to the possibility of touma as a romantic option, taichi+futaba’s relationship gaining less narrative and emotional weight later on, in contrast to the highkey emotions and overall focus on taichi+touma, and miscellaneous things i haven’t talked about like their tender handholding threaded throughout... all the foreshadowing set against the manga’s theme of continually choosing the future...

the endgame really is cohesive with the whole manga imo

#ao no flag #blue flag #ao no flag spoilers #taichi ichinose #touma mita #futaba kuze #wish i were more exhaustive but i have not the mental strength #please someone more qualified write a proper essay about this #i skipped over so much lol #like i have a feeling futaba also had a feeling #she had a lot of pensive panels near the end #and like that convo where taichi says #he gave up on the toy shop bc he had no confidence in what he loved #if others thought he was weird #and futaba's like yeah the shame of disapproval #like uhhh i wonder what else can be applied to that.... the way she trailed off #oh no i started off in the tags rip #ok last thing you know what im reminded of #thannks to the car rescue and mega repression #dante and ari sometimes

[chaoticspacefam]

Kiss With A Fist

A/N:

quite literally heeheheh ok I’ll see myself out LMAO the rest of this song doesn’t literally apply to these two, they love each other very much and rest assured they’d never actually, deliberately hurt each other. it’s more the general Vibe(tm) of the song that fits their courting process + I really liked the poetic irony of this line used as the quote & the last line of the fic XD Also bear in mind this is from D’leah’s POV and yes, it is semi-ironic on purpose because...it’s D’leah. Any regulars on the blog should be very familiar with mama Sith’s propsensity to be a bully with an overinflated ego at this point *shrugs* XD

OKAY, with that out of the way, here we go! A little oneshot. I haven’t sat down to properly write or edit for a good long while, but this is still one of my favourite oneshots that I’ve ever written tbh, so...enjoy! 😄😄 I’ll leave it up to reader interpretation as to whether they actually finished the mission her brother & dad sent them out on or got sidetracked(tm) 👀😉

I don’t think it needs a particular warning since it’s literally one sentence but there is a mention of killing an assassin in the middle of this (under the cut) so ig be aware of that. It’s not horribly graphic so should be fine but uhhh, just in case?

                                ----------------------------

“A kick in the teeth is good for some, but a kiss with a fist is better than none!” ~Florence & the Machine

Of all the Royal Guards that could have possibly been assigned to accompany her on this mission, it had to be this one. The heiress would be lying if she said she wasn't a tad bitter by the Emperor's insistence on that arrangement; she'd attempted to change his mind in a moment of desperation in the past, but her father would hear nothing of it, patting her on the shoulder and claiming that none of the others had the skill level for this sort of task, or to keep up with her during it. So, once more, she was resigned to the company of the fool who, despite her snapping, always seemed to turn up when he was least wanted and needed. 

(This was, of course, not the case and given that his entire purpose was to protect the heiress from threats, perhaps she should have been more tolerant of his presence, or perhaps her protests stemmed less from annoyance and more from something else than she was willing to admit…)

 And he had been fraying D'leah's nerves ever since they'd landed on Tatooine this morning. Kissai had enough arrogance for the both of them, and he seemed to have gotten the idea into his head that she couldn't take care of herself without him needing to jump in to "rescue" her at the most inopportune moment. It was infuriating. She did not need him charging in to help, she could handle herself just fine.

Everything about this man irritated her to no end: the way he stomped around with his great big feet and woke half the karkin’ planet, his habit of always being right behind her whenever she turned around, the way he kept grabbing her by the shoulder to pull her back and insist he, of all people, went first; his stupid face and that annoying, oaf-ish smile of his…

She’d been so busy internally cursing her Guard that she’d failed to notice the man who had been tailing them since the spaceport; in fact, she only noticed him in the first place when she heard his spine crack as Kissai lifted him into the air with the Force, then flung the body down in front of her almost pointedly.

D’leah let out an agitated hiss as her amber eyes flicked from the corpse at her feet, to his face as he raised both browstalks at her as if to say "I told you so", then back again, and sputtered.

“He wasn’t going to shoot me.” 

“I think you’ll find he was, princess.” Kissai retorted smoothly, plucking the man’s blaster pistol off the ground and waving it at her as he added, “You’re welcome, by the way.” She bristled faintly at the word ‘princess’. Sometimes when she was in a good mood, she’d slip up and let it slide without correcting him. Today, after the morning she’d had, D’leah was in no mood to put up with it.

“I don’t need you following me around like a lost Tuk’ata pup!” she snapped at him, trudging onwards and praying he’d catch his stomping feet in a sinkhole when he tried to follow her.

“Your father seems to think otherwise.” The man simply laughed the comment off, pulling his hood up to protect his face from the sand that whipped into a vortex around them. His voice dropped an octave, to become a more serious growl. “Are you forgetting that my entire job is to protect you?” 

The Ahaszaai High Lady snarled under her breath, checking the locator beacon Duuma had given her as she ducked into the alcove it indicated. The lost artifact should be around here somewhere…

“I don’t need protecting, I can take care of myself just fine!” 

“Mm, of course, D’leahane, because Sith who can take care of themselves usually almost get decapitated by assassins.” Kissai snorted, though she could practically hear the shit-eating grin in his voice, “I think your father’s right to ask me to accompany you. You’d have died three times today if I hadn’t.”

“GO JUMP IN A SARLACC PIT!” she shouted back at him. 

“And there are the creative insults your brother warned me about.” 

D’leah paused in her search to turn her head and give him a dirty look over her shoulder, intoning menacingly. “I’ll kill him when I see him next.” 

Kissai’s expression moulded into one of concern this time, the red-eyed Pureblood blinking at her uncertainly as he reminded her. “...You don’t know which one it was.”

Now it was her turn to grin at him.

“Don’t need to, I have a fifty-fifty shot.”

“No wonder they’re both afraid of you.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. Truthfully, the High Lady was doing her best to ignore his obvious needling as she ducked through another archway and moved further into the cave system, the words she threw over her shoulder echoing back to him off the empty passageway’s walls.

“You should be afraid of me, too. I could end you.”

She was surprised he was still behind her, he could move rather fast despite his large frame, it would seem. D’leah tried not to be too impressed by that fact, but if she was being honest...

“Does it bother you that I’m not, princess?” 

He wasn’t going to drop this, was he? She’d been about to levitate a pile of rocks out of their path, but stopped and spun around to glare at him instead.

“Don’t you “princess” me, you...you…” just when she needed it the most, her ability to think of an appropriate insult failed her, and instead she trailed off into awkward silence. Kissai took that as an invitation to make her even more irritated that his wit was quicker than hers, and added, grinning the whole while: “If you’re trying to think of something you haven’t called me yet, we’ll be here for a good century or so.”

“Fool.” she hissed in frustration. He had her on the ropes, now, and that wasn’t somewhere the Ahaszaai heiress was used to being.  “Is that the best one you have? Did I wear you out, my Lord~?” he crooned back at her, and that was when D’leah put her foot down. She flung a few bolts of lightning in his direction for good measure. As she had suspected, his reflexes were as good as his saber skills and he easily deflected them off his palm before the electricity did any damage, swatting them aside into the wall as if he were brushing dust off his cloak.

“I knew you were going to do that, too...do you really think I can’t handle you?” he teased fondly. 

“I’ve no time for oafs the likes of you.” D’leah growled.

"Then tell me to leave you alone." he stared back at her seriously, browstalks furrowing as his gaze slid from hers to focus on the rest of her face, as if searching her expression for a nonverbal cue he might have missed. "At your word, my Lord, you'll not hear another thing from me beyond those necessary for my duty." 

Looking into his eyes in that moment, she was forced to admit the reality that perhaps she didn’t want him to leave her alone. He’d figured out she was testing him, and now he was calling her bluff, the kriffing, good-looking bastard.  Her jaw spurs rattled in annoyance, but D'leah's lips remained sealed. He waited a full minute, still studying her carefully, to give her plenty of opportunity to voice her thoughts. 

She didn't. The corners of Kissai's mouth turned upwards into a faint smile. 

"That's what I thought." he stepped away from her again, but not before slipping up and forgetting his station for long enough to murmur fondly, "Your nose scrunches up when you're sulking, you know. It’s cute."

D'leah could let "princess" slide on a good day, as far as his pet names went it was among those she considered tolerable, but she drew the line at "cute"! Annoyed and frustrated in more ways than one, she strode after him to reach up and grab the taller Pureblood's shoulder to stop him in his tracks. The Guard turned towards her again, a small, confused noise rumbling in his throat.

First she punched him in the jaw, then she kissed him. Hard. And that was the end of that.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #elven's writing #subterfugeverse #swtor oc: d'leah ahaszaai #sith heiress #swtor oc: kissai ahaszaai #d'leah/kissai #d'leahssai #is this classified as a meet cute; a meet-ugly; or some sort of weird in-between version of *BOTH*? you guys decide hahahaha #this *is* a prequel of sorts ;) i'm finally trying to sort out my askbox and clear it so i can open it again in a few months' time #so that oneshot will go out next week; if fanfic/writing gods are with me and i can finally finish writing it 🙏 #d'leah: stop saving me all the time; i can save myself!!! #also d'leah: constantly walks her ass into danger with alarming regularity #emperor ahaszaai: uh; yeah; hey....izreni do you....do you think you could; maybe; stop her from doing that. great; thanks #d'leah likes to blame kissai for saarai's knack of throwing herself into danger like some sort of damage/blaster bolt sponge #but the truth is it's actually *BOTH* their faults; d'leah's just as bad at wandering into dangerous situations #it's just that kissai's whole ass job is to jump in the way before something bad happens *to* her #i really enjoy writing their dynamic it's so much fun #it's a blend of bodyguard/royalty; ''only i get to make fun of/beat them up'' #and later on once they're married: well-meaning idiot/''oh fuck that's *MY* idiot!!'' #it's great XD #i need to find a better title/''name'' for the Royal Guard(s) but atm i'm drawing a blank so generic filler fantasy moniker(tm) it is ! #(for now) #also yes the jaw spurs *are* bone and they *do* emote with them; bioware are cowards and no i will not stop with that headcanon LMAO #i could write a whole ass essay on that point alone #maybe one day when i actually manage to draw the examples like i keep saying i will XD

[marktuansvevo]

warning(s); slight cursing, 90s au, lapslock

word count; 1299

another’s note; hi loves and happy halloween! i hope everybody is having fun and staying safe! here’s part two of the autumn dates collection! i hope you all enjoy <3

“I haven’t ridden a bike in so long,” you said to jaebeom as you snuggled the phone between your cheek and shoulder. you played with the cord as you let the man on the other side talk you into a fifth date with him (not that it took much convincing).

“cmon, y/n, no one forgets how to ride a bike,” you could hear him laughing at your statement. “its almost winter, we should enjoy the pretty fall weather. please?” he paused, waiting for an answer. “I’ll even buy you ice cream, darling.”

you couldn’t help but giggle at the onslaught of butterflies that just erupted in your lower tummy at the petname he just called you.

“okay...fine. but I want to rent a pink bike.”

“done and done. pick you up on saturday at 2?”

“sounds perfect.”

“okay, see you soon, darling,” you know he purposefully drew out the word. he knew exactly how to make your cheeks red and you loved that about him.

today was the first date you hadn’t been at least sorta dressed up to see jaebeom. you were nervous that he wouldn’t like you in some adidas shorts and a ponytail, but as if on cue, jaeboem knocked on the door, pulling you out of your insecure thoughts. you smiled before throwing your arms around him. you didn’t care if it was too early. you weren’t even official yet....but he made you feel things you never knew you could feel.

“missed you, beom,” you whispered, letting him hold you.

“missed you too,” you saw his cheeks were dusted a light pink at your actions. “now cmon, we’re burning daylight!!”

you let him take your hand and lead you to his beat up pickup truck, where he opened the door for you. you blushed. you felt like a teenager. no person had ever made you feel this special, and you didn’t want this feeling to end anytime soon.

“now, I picked a trail that isn’t too hilly, since you haven’t been biking in a minute. and it’s only four miles from that ice cream place I was telling you about.”

“you really think of everything, huh?” you marveled out loud, looking out the window as you hummed along to only wanna be with you which was playing on the radio. jaeboem looked over at you before taking your hand and kissing it as he sang along, “been looking for a girl like you.”

the rest of the ride to the park was spent like that, jaebeom’s thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand while the two of you shyly sang top 40 songs.

you both walked into the cute little bike shop. “hi, how can we help you?” the salesmen asks.

“we just wanted to rent some bikes for the afternoon. oh, do you have any pink bikes in my girl’s size? that’s what she’s demanding.”

“hey!!”

“she literally won’t go on this date if you don’t have one man, you gotta help me out,” your boyfriend said to the salesman who hooted. “I happen to have one in your size, maam, if you wanna follow me.”

“it’s perfect! thank you so much, now I can confidently go on this date,” you played along as boem paid the man and walked out of the shop.

“pink really is your color, darling.”

“you’re just saying that to make me blush,” you said as you blushed. he sniggered.

“I can’t help that you’re cute. now cmon, let’s hit the trail.”

the trail was beautiful and really let you clear your head of any thoughts that didn’t involve the man in front of you. you looked out at the river, at the trees with pretty orange, red and yellow leaves hanging on them, at the elderly couple walking their dog. it was one of those days where nothing could bring down your mood....it was serendipitous...

...until the frog.

jaebeom had told you that you were close to the ice cream stand about five minutes ago. you were thinking about mint chocolate chip when all of a sudden, a bull frog hops in front of your path. you let out a scream and swerved out of the frogs way,  crashing your bike in the process.

“y/n!” jaebeom exclaimed. “oh my god are you okay.”

do not cry do not cry do not cry, you willed yourself as you looked down at the blood pouring out of both your knees. you would not be dramatic on your fifth date with this wonderful person.

“I...I’m okay...”

“oh, honey that looks like it hurts....” he said softly. “hey, there’s a general store right next to the ice cream parlor. I’ll be back with some antiseptic and bandaids, okay?”

“don’t take too long,” you whispered.

you watched as he jogged over the the store. it was a good twenty minutes before he came jogging back.

“okay, I got a washcloth and antiseptic, and a water bottle. will you let me clean it, y/n?”

you just nodded your head. “it hasn’t stopped bleeding since you left.”

“this might sting, darling. tell me if it hurts.” jaebeom pours some water onto the washcloth, cleaning your wound. as soon as the blood stopped flowing out of the scrapes, jaeboem squeezes a generous amount of the medicine onto his pointer and middle fingers before applying it to your open wound. you winced are the sting, begging yourself not to cry once more. you don’t even know why you were so worked up.

jaebeom didn’t even look up as he continued to apply the medicine, which you were grateful for as tears freely flowed down your face. “alright, how’s that feel- oh, y/n are you crying?? did that hurt too bad?”

“I..I’m sorry i don’t know why im so worked up. I just...” you sighed as he pulled you into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck to hide. “I feel like a fucked this whole  date up. and now you have a crying girl in your lap,” he shushed you gently, placing a kiss to your temple.

“darling, you didn’t fuck anything up. im still having fun, just sitting here admiring the pretty trees with the prettiest girl in the world, you know?” he wiped your tears away, smiling a bit. “now stop crying. you know what else I bought at the store?”

“hm?”

“one of those cheap, disposable cameras. I wanted to commemorate this day,” he smiled wide. “because I wanted to have a picture of us the day I asked you to officially be my girlfriend.”

“wait, really?” your smile widened. “are you being serious, beom?”

“of course I am!! should I not have?” he asked with a pout.

“oh, jaebeom of course I will be!” you giggled before pulling him into you and kissing him fully on the lips. he tasted like cinnamon. you just realized it was your first kiss with him. he smiled against your lips.

“mmm, you taste sweet, baby,” he teased, pecking your lips once more. “now, lean in to me so I can take our picture.” you leaned in close to him, smiling at the camera as he placed a kiss to your cheek. your eyes were probably closed from happy embarrassment.

“when you develop those, will you make me a copy?”

“sure, baby. now cmon, let me buy you some mint chocolate ice cream.”

“uhhh..mint choco? no thanks baby, I’ll stick with pumpkin.”

your boyfriend (that had a nice ring to it, you thought to yourself) looked at you with a look of distaste. “ohhh...I retract my offer to be your boyfriend.”

“hey!!”

#jaebeom #90s au #got7 #jaebeom imagines

[carewyncromwell]

To carey: What was the most diffult case you ever worked as a lawyer and why? To ana: What is your all time favourite book? & Did you ever consider working for the theater? To bat: What was the strangest question anyone ever asked you? & Did you actually read one of grims books? ^^

“Carey, what was the most difficult case you ever worked as a lawyer and why?”

[Carewyn takes time to consider this.]

“Most difficult...I’d say it’d have to be my friend Night Rhea’s. @nightrhea-hphm I had to prosecute the case -- I prosecuted almost all of the cases against ex-Death Eaters, after the War...even if I believed with all my heart that Night was innocent.”

Not just because of my Legilimency, but...well, knowing Night, I just couldn’t believe they didn’t have some greater reason for what they did. They’ve never been like the Death Eaters -- they’ve never been so spiteful or ignorant as that.

“It was hard to try to convict someone I didn’t want convicted in the first place. I’m just glad that I was able to help their attorneys enough that Night won their case and was set free.”

I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself, otherwise...

((OOC: I stumbled upon Jessica Chastain in the film Miss Sloane completely by chance, and uhhh...she is a PERFECT adult!Carewyn, I can’t even. She’s even got the right hair length and lipstick holy sheez))

“Ana, what is your all time favourite book? And did you ever consider working for the theater?”

All-time? How in the world do I pick just one?

“...Mm...well, The Last Unicorn is up there. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass too -- and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. If we’re counting plays, then Macbeth is wonderful...and if we’re talking manga series too, Sailor Moon is my favorite of those. Though I’m in the middle of rereading Ouran High School Host Club, and it really is even better than I remember it...”

[She trails off, realizing she kind of botched up the whole “all-time favorite” thing by listing off way more than just one favorite. She goes faintly pink and shrugs it off.]

“...Anyway...I do help out at the theater when I can, but I didn’t think I’d work there full-time ever, no. I love it, of course! Of course I do. But I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and well...that’s all there is to it.”

People always say you should follow your dreams, so why shouldn’t I follow mine? Even if I did end up having to work at the theater to pay the bills, I would still have been writing -- I know that for sure!

“Bat, what was the strangest question anyone ever asked you? And did you actually read one of Grim’s books?

[Bat actually starts to laugh. His amusement creates an odd crack in his usually serene expression, betraying a wonderful, handsome, youthful quality.]

“I actually had a Hogwarts student once who had enough gumption to ask me about the best method to ‘grow parts of his body.’”

[Why yes, Bat knew exactly what the student had wanted to do, even if he hadn’t explicitly said so to the vampire’s face.]

“I told the boy if he was really so determined to do it that one could apply an Engorgement Charm, but that he aught to master it by practicing on things that weren’t attached to him first, so as to not end up in the Hospital Wing having to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions. I also reminded him that bigger does not mean better and that he really should just drink his milk and eat his greens like everybody else.”

[The mention of Grim’s books @cursebreakerfarrier makes Bat’s scarlet eyes light up with very keen interest.]

“‘Books?’ You mean to tell me that old Grim has written not just a book, but multiple books, and he has not told me?”

[His lips spread into a full, fanged smile.]

“Well, this most definitely is something I’ll have to address straight-away.”

((OOC: I want Bat to read Grim’s books, but I don’t know what they’re about or when Grim would’ve finished them in their timeline (since in his profile I see he’s working on one), so I’m playing it off as Bat having just not learned that particular tidbit yet.))

Voice Ask!

#carewyn cromwell #anastasia read #bartholomew varney #roleplaying #night rhea #atticus grimsley #other people's mcs

[junieyes]

paint me like one of them dead girls (3.1)

usual warnings: gore, violence, profanity shdhdh, uhhh zombies

(omg so turns out there’s a word limit on this shit)

—

The pilot must either be really good at praying or have some absurdly good luck.

You help him apply pressure to the nasty gash in his very not broken, elevated leg.

You also force him to take some painkillers. You’d have given him a drink but they don’t supply that in first aid kits.

“Are you a junkie?” He asks, blearily. “I can’t.”

You blink, taken aback. “What? No! Just take the damn Tylenol!”

He looks at you very uncertain but gulps them dry anyway. You’re not sure if this is shock or something else. You don’t know which you’d prefer.

(you half-wonder if he was drinking on the job)

First things first, stop the bleeding. Whether a wound this large can be stopped, you really don’t know. You’re only trained enough to wait for an EMT to get here. And as there aren’t any EMTs anymore… you are currently the most qualified person in this room.

Ohhhh boy.

You bite your lip, distraught. The only thing you can think of to use without wasting any bandages is… is your jacket. You fucking love this jacket. But the pilot is dying.

Making up your mind, you exhale sharply. He’ll buy you a new one when you get out of this. It’ll be an IOU. You’ll even get it down on paper.

You slip your arms out quickly, turning the jacket inside out. You cut off the bottom half of the body. The outside, although covered in blood, is waterproof. The inside material is relatively clean but you swab it with an antiseptic wipe and bundle it up, pressing around and between the pilots slacking fingers. He makes a painful sound but nothing else; his head lolls sideways. You pinch his nose.

“Wha?” He says, not anymore awake than before.

“If you sleep you die,” you say bluntly. “This is a team effort. You gotta help me out here.”

He breathes heavily, pupils looking a little glazed, but he musters a nod. Makes an effort to put as much pressure as he can on his leg. His forehead shines with copious amounts of sweat, strands of black hair wet and matted flat against his scalp; there are dark bruises along his jaw and nose and you think it might be broken but you can’t tell. You’ve never seen a broken nose.

He looks like shit, but not undead shit. He looks likes he’s about to hurl and die from blood loss, not from a disease or plague or whatever the hell infection is rampaging outside these walls.

It’s something. You can work with that.

The bleeding doesn’t completely stop but it does slow. Enough for you to clean around the area instead. It looks disgusting. It reminds you of a car crash when the hood is all crumpled back on itself and you can see the bits inside. The cut isn’t wide, as though a chunk has been taken out, but it’s long and serrated, and you figure it must be very deep for it to have bled so much. You’re not a damn doctor. It’ll need stitches is your uneducated guess.

You prepare yourself. This is going to be unpleasant.

Check his pulse – which, it isn’t steady or strong like when you compare it your own, but it isn’t debilitatingly weak either. It should be good for now, and you try not to overthink it. You might be severely under-qualified, but he doesn’t have anyone else but you. You’re the only thing standing between him and death.

You take a deep breath and fish for the needle and thread.

The door opens when you’re halfway down the pilot’s calf.

The surgical scissors are up in the air before you even think about it, extra pointy ends pointing away. They drip with blood. It’s not exactly the most dignified or even protective stance, but there must be something fierce and frazzled on your face because Leon takes a startled step back.

“Oh thank god,” you breathe, deflating. And then you perk up again, turning back to suture the wound closed. No time for dilly-dallying! “Where’s Claire?”

You don’t hear her footsteps alongside Leon’s. Unless she’s like, super fucking quiet. But you don’t hear her talking or breathing either so she mustn’t be there. You squint, eyes focused on the task at hand.

The stitches are coming along nicely, as much as they can under your unskilled hands anyway. Your technique is a combination influenced by poor attempts at embroidery and watching medical dramas at 10pm when you should really be sleeping. But his leg is coming back together so you must be doing something right.

The pilot hums, still dazed and sleepy-like. You hope it’s just the painkillers. You don’t have the energy or education to deal with more.

“I was too late,” Leon says, coming to kneel beside you. You don’t turn to him, just silently point at your torn-up jacket and make a gesture. “The noise attracted more of them. We didn’t have any more time.”

He seems to understand you somewhat vaguely because he picks up the bundle and hovers uncertainly around the gash.

“Pat it gently.”

He does, following the trail of sutures you leave behind. You ended up cutting the wrinkled, flappy bits of skin that’d been hanging on by sheer force of will. They were messing up your sewing. If this was a good move has yet to be seen.

“Did you tell her to climb the fence?”

“Couldn’t. It had wires at the top.”

You try very hard not to shrug. It’ll mess up your hand. “Better than getting eaten up by those things.”

Leon sighs. He sounds so tired. It makes you feel a little guilty for still feeling annoyed at him about earlier. But only a little.

“I found something.”

You frown. “What is it?”

“A crank.”

You really want to look at him. But no, you must persevere. The pilot – and you really need to get his name – will die if you look away. Maybe not die, but you don’t think he’ll appreciate you taking your eyes off of him while you repair his leg like an annoying hole in a pair of socks.

“A crank?” you repeat, bemused. “Why did you take a crank? What do you even need a crank for? And where’d you even find it?”

He holds the scissors when you give it to him. “East office. I don’t know why; it was just sitting on the desk. And it’s for the bathroom in this west wing. One of the pipes is blown and it’s steaming gas.”

You immediately perk up. “A bathroom?”

He laughs. “Yeah, a bathroom. If I fix it, you can, you know…”

Leg done. Last stitch in. You wrap it in bandaging for added measure. This time, you look up to the ceiling with a reverent expression. Finally, you can take a sorely needed bathroom break.

You turn to Leon. “That is the best news I have had heard since literally ever.”

He shakes his head, lips quirked. “Figures.”

The pilot interrupts you both with a grumpy exhale. “Are you done flirting? M’leg still hurts.”

You send him a flat look. Not that he can see it, considering his eyes are closed. You wonder how he’s still awake, honestly. It’s not like you had anesthesia. “I’m not giving you any more painkillers. I already gave you above dosage, so suck it!”

Maybe you’re being a little mean, but you really don’t know if it’s safe, especially with all the blood loss and shit. You don’t want to risk it any more than you already have.

(and also, you’re a little mad. It’s the end of the world; you should be allowed to flirt a little. You already fixed his damned leg.)

Finding some strength from… somewhere, the pilot lifts up his head, glaring at you unhappily. You are as intimidated as you would be by a floppy-eared rabbit. “Are you sure you’re a doctor?”

You sigh noisily. “I’m not!”

The pilot grumbles. He must be really out of it. Anyone in their right and sober mind would be pissed mad at you right now. You literally just performed surgery on his leg. That’s not right! You’re a history student, not a medical one!

“Is he going to be alright?” Leon asks, leaning towards you. You eye him a little. He doesn’t look particularly bothered by the pilot’s comment. Unless… you missed him blushing or some cute shit because you were too busy dealing with the pilot. Damn.

No! brain, shut up. There are more important things right now. You can lament over lost opportunities at a later time.

You shrug hesitantly. You won’t lie. You lean in to whisper though. If it were you, you wouldn’t want your faux-doctor and some random guy to be talking about your prospective future in front of you. “Maybe?” you say, and then really think about. “Yeah,” you amend, nodding with conviction. “He didn’t break anything, it’s just… a lot of lost blood. But I dunno if he can walk on it.”

Looking at the guy, Leon seems to contemplate something.

With some mild bemusement, you watch as he putters around, doing something with the cushions behind the desk. He even manages to move the definitely heavy safe off to the side.

“Help me pick him up.”

It takes considerably less time to move the pilot behind the desk than it did getting him to this room.

“I feel like a ragdoll,” the pilot says, almost pouting. You say almost because you refuse to believe a thirty-year-old man is capable of pouting. He looks highly put out. Now that must be the painkillers.

“Sorry bud,” Leon pats his back gently, crouching by his side. “We’ll leave you here for now. Take this–“ Leon hands him another gun he must have found recently, and some ammo. “Only use it if you have to. You’re safe up here for now, but you don’t want to attract any of the dead this way.”

The pilot snorts. “Thanks man.” And then his whole body sort of just… tilts a little and starts to doze.

You still haven’t gotten his name. You’ll get it later. It really is probably best that you leave him here, he won’t be much help finding that last statue piece.

After retrieving and cleaning your kit, you slip on your sad excuse of a jacket – what remains of it anyways. You hope you don’t look too bad. The bottom only comes up to mid-waist now. It’s not terrible, exactly, but it’s not how you envisioned yourself wearing it. You have the sleeves still, so that’s something.

The reason you don’t feel too embarrassed about your appearance is because Leon isn’t looking so hot either. You can suffer together.

“You think he’ll be safe?” you ask him in the main hall. “I feel bad for leaving him.”

Despite the shit you’d been mentally giving the man and the situation you found yourself in, you’d do it again. Of course you’d help him. How could you not? It just majorly sucks is all. Now you’re just super anxious that something terrible will happen while you’re gone. You’ve only known him for like, ten minutes, but you really don’t want him to die.

“He should be for now,” Leon assures you. “I’ve cleared out most of the rooms that I’ve gone through, and boarded up the broken windows.”

“Yeah…” you still don’t feel right, but there’s no alternative.

“Now.” He shows you the crank. “The bathroom.”

[--]

You squeak, stumbling back as the dead woman lunges out from the locker and grabs onto Leon.

“Shit!”

Thinking fast, you grab the nearest object – a ridiculously ugly vase, what’s it doing in the bathroom? – and throw it at her. Or them, really. It breaks on impact. Huh, must’ve been a cheap vase.

“Agh!” Leon coughs out a mouthful of dirt.

You wince. “Oops.”

It distracts the lady though, so it works out in the end.

The crank goes in, and the steam goes off.

You walk in eagerly, and–

It’s a disappointment. Just like everything in your life has been so far.

Leon makes a gesture. “You don’t think you could–?”

You look at him unamused. “No.”

He puts his hands on his hips, looking up. “Yeah, thought so.”

                                                    --

                                                    --

“What’s that?” You ask Leon, waving to the device he’s holding. It has a ring of dull, elevated circular bumps, followed by printed arrows in a counter-clockwise direction. Below is a keypad of eight.

“It’s a portable safe.”

“Oh. What’s in it?”

Leon shrugs. “Let’s find out.”

When he finally puts in the correct sequence, the safe lets out a cute jingle, the nodes flashing green.

When you see what it’s inside, your face falls flat. “You’re joking.”

Leon pulls out a keypad key. It has a ‘2’ printed on it.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. “This is for the–“

“Yes.”

He looks as perplexed as you feel. You wonder who did this and what they were doing with their life.

“And you were really going to work with these people,” you mumble, turning away.

He nods and sighs. Puts the key back into the safe and slams it into the locker it came from.

“We won’t be needing that.”

“Nope.”

[--]

While you roll up some red herbs that’d been decorating the corner, Leon hunches over the computer outside the armoury.

“Dongle…” he mutters, noting something down on a paper pad.

You look over at him from over your work. “Are we really going to look for a dongle?” In this police station? Yeah, good luck.

He peers at you over his shoulder. It takes a lot of effort to not let your eyes drift down to his ass. “There should be some more ammo inside. It’ll be useful.”

“I suppose,” you say.

In the little side office – must be the captains or Chief’s, you think – you find a packet of gum (watermelon flavoured), some more ammo in the desk drawer which you stuff into your backpack, and a random battery that you also take just in case you find a radio. Behind the desk, sitting on a stack of files and pamphlets is a note. It gives you the combination to a safe relocated to the West Office.

You store that for later. Searching the rest of the S.T.A.R.S office lands you with a gun. It has a full clip of ammo.

Holding it very gently, you bring it to Leon. He’s typing something on the keyboard. Is he trying to hack it? Good on him. You approve.

“Hey, look what I found.”

He turns and blinks. “Where did you find that?” he leans around you, scrutinising the office as if another will magically appear.

You shrug. “In one of the drawers.”

He looks confused. “But most of them have locks?”

This time you turn away, feeling sheepish. “Yeah...”

It’s silent for a moment. You enjoy his mystified expression.

“Think you can open this?” He points to the armoury door.

You give him a look. “It’s electronic, Leon. You’ve been fiddling this thing for the past five minutes. If you couldn’t get open, then neither can I.”

He shrugs easily. “Worth a try.” Then he nods to the gun you’re still holding. “Keep that. It’s not regulation, but truth be told, I don’t think it matters at this point. It’s not safe that you only have a knife.”

You’re not so sure. “I won’t be shooting it though... I think I’m more likely to blow my wrist off if I try.”

“Better shoot yourself than getting eaten, right?”

“I mean, yeah – wait, no...” If you lose any body part to this bad idea, you’re blaming him. You would rather not lose a limb if you can help it.

“If something happens – which it won’t, not since I’m here – I'll take full responsibility. I promise.”

Letting him help you strap a holster that you find on another desk to your waist – your fashion senses are crying for help; being practical is not conducive to looking good – you mutter, “You’re so sure about that. A little full of yourself, don’t you think?”

Leon grins, blue light from the desktop glancing along his face. “Have I led you wrong otherwise?”

You are not impressed.

(liar)

“We saw a helicopter explode three feet away from us. Y’know, I don’t think that would’ve happened if you hadn’t taken us there.” You point out. “I could have lived my whole life without that experience. It was really traumatic and I don’t think I'll recover, ever.”

“What?” His shoulders shake as he laughs. Unsurprisingly, it’s still as lovely as before and makes your stomach do funny things. Like indigestion, but pleasant. “I didn’t tell it to crash. It would’ve done that anyway. We just happened to have good timing.”

“I don’t think you understand the concept of good timing. There was nothing good about that at all.”

He shrugs, still smiling. He’s finished fixing up the holster to your belt. You don’t think he’s noticed, but his hands are still resting along either side of your hips. Not really incriminating, but you think about it.

“We saved that pilot, didn’t we?”

“But at what cost? You broke my rib.”

“Thought I fractured your liver, wasn’t that what you said?”

“Something along those lines…”

He clasps your shoulders, gently rubbing them in circles with his thumb. You flush, just a smidgen. “You’ll be fine. Hopefully you won’t even need to use it. And if worse comes to worst and you really can’t? just throw everything you can reach.”

You laugh. You’ve already done that (your knife, cough cough) and it didn’t work.

“I’m serious.” Why’s he laughing too then, huh?

Looking down, laughter dying, you wring your fingers. “I’m not totally helpless, you know. I meant it earlier. I can take care of myself.”

He removes his hands and rubs his neck. When he meets your eyes again, it’s sheepish. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just – it’s not right.” He starts to get frustrated when you stare at him blankly and exhales noisily. ”I mean, you shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff. Dead people? Killing and running away from dead people? None of this is sane. You should be, I don’t know, painting? Going to class? Having a night out with friends. Not seeing this.” He makes a wide gesture that encompasses the room and probably the entirety of Racoon City.

Now you just roll your eyes. Objectively, you can see his reasoning. It makes sense, now that he’s explained better. This isn’t a situation anyone should have to experience, neither you or him. People are literally coming back alive, undead. This only ever happens in fiction.

But you still feel compelled to argue. It’s the principle of it. You’re trying to get past your cowardly ways.

“S’not like I really have a choice. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”

You cross your arms, cocking a hip.

Leon crosses his arms and doesn’t cock a hip. “But do you want to do it?”

You look away. It’s not something you’d lie about. “I mean, not really, no…”

He sighs. “That’s my point. If you can avoid it, if you can run – do it. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You flush properly this time. Agh. Your resolve is weakening. He just wants you to be okay, and you’re being difficult about it. Maybe you’re both right. There’s nothing inherently wrong with not being able to look out for yourself, but…

You’re being stupid. Again. There’s proving that you’re not a total deadweight, which isn’t bad, and then there’s being an idiot and throwing yourself into danger – doing stuff you don’t even want to do, risky stuff too – just to make a point.

You don’t want to kill people anymore. They’re dead now, but you still did it. Killed them a second time. It’s not something to be proud of and not something you want to do ever again.

You clear your throat, tossing your head back. Your earrings are heavy on your lobes and the weight is comforting. Reminds you of better times. “Right, well.” You lean forward abruptly, pointing a finger so close to his nose that your skin almost touches his. His eyes fly downwards, trying to follow it. It’s cute. “You so much as get a papercut, I wanna hear about it. Got me? I’m taking this medic gig seriously. You are so not dying on me.”

He grabs your hand and gives you a thumbs up. “Got it. No dying. Wasn’t planning on it, but I’ll make extra sure not to.”

“Haaaah, you’re so funny.” And then you squint. “Painting, really? that’s what you think I do?”

Leon tilts his head considering. “Well, what do you do then?”

“History!” you say proudly, stepping back away from those soft emotions. “I was gonna be a history teacher. The kids’ll love me.”

He blinks, raising his eyebrows. He picks his stuff up from the desk and starts leaving towards the door. “You? A teacher?”

You thwack his arm, following. Guess you guys are done here now. The room is cleared, just the armoury room and its stupid dongle left for later.

“You sound so incredulous. What, you don’t think I can?”

“I think you’d be a terrible one.”

Your mouth drops open. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Excuse me?”

“If I had you as my history teacher,” and then he looks you up and down, scanning you rather, uh, intently. You clap your mouth closed. He meets your eyes, and for the first time tonight gives you a charming little smirk. “I’d never get any work done. I’d be too distracted.”

Oh, my god. You can’t believe he just said that. He literally just said that. What do you do? What do you even say?

“Nghh.”

Nice going, idiot. Real smooth.

Your face is hot. Is this what most girls feel like? Is this what guys feel like when you lay it on? Jesus. You want both to ascend to heaven and have the ground eat you whole. No in-between.

Unbelievable! And you’ve been trying to withhold from flirting since you met him!

Humbled by this embarrassing and flattering experience, you wave him on. “I think it’s time we leave, don’t you? Find that medallion and all, get outta here, so…”

He has the audacity to laugh at you.

Scrunching your nose, you toss him a wary look and grab the knob. As soon as you try to step out into the hallway Leon surges ahead of you roughly pulls you back inside. You throw him an angry glare, rubbing your shoulder. “What was that f–“

Somewhere outside a demon screeches. The sound sends terror shooting through your veins, and breathing suddenly gets a tad bit more difficult.

He slams the door, holding the handle shut. The expression on his face is one of severe constipation.

“What… what was that?” you prod, poking him when his face screws up even more. You don’t need to have years of friendship with him to know what that face means. It means: this is sooooo not good. “Leon.”

He clenches his jaw. Looks at you. “Stay here.”

Your eyes widen.

#paint me like one of them dead girls #kind of split in half ehh #part 3 #3.1 #Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy/reader #leon kennedy x reader #reader #resident evil 2 #lol this just been sitting in my drafts waiting to be formatted

[eeveevie]

UST prompts: The interrupted almost kiss with Fiona & Brynjolf!

from this list

this...uhhh I got carried away 

Brynjolf x F!Dovahkiin (Fiona)

1425 words (under a cut) | Ao3

The Guild was on high alert ever since Karliah had appeared,devastating them all with the news of Mercer’s treachery. Many of the seniormembers had left the Cistern, reaching out to any contact they could get a holdof in an attempt to track the man down. The remaining thieves stayed in the Ratways,guarding what little they had left. Fiona had also stayed behind, thankful tobe somewhere familiar after what Mercer put her through. She had traveled withKarliah for a short while, then by herself across Skyrim in an attempt totranslate Gallus’ journal. It had been successful, and Fiona was glad to beback in Riften…even if her return with Karliah hadn’t been welcomed with openarms.

She was grateful that at least Brynjolf had forgiven her forhiding the fact that she was Dragonborn—a secret that, had she died, would’veleft their last encounter an argument. Fiona reminded herself to thank Karliah againfor saving her life, otherwise she would’ve never had the chance to make amendswith the man. He too stayed within the Cistern, the two eventually moving totalk in the back training room. Nobody else was there—they could be alone.

They had been discussing Mercer’s betrayal for a few hoursnow, Brynjolf asking her general questions about everything she had learnedfrom Karliah. Even though Fiona could tell he wanted to, he hadn’t dared to askwhat had happened at Snow Veil Sanctum. She sat on the ground in front of thepractice chests, fiddling one of the locks with a pick. It was something tokeep her hands busy, something to focus her mind on as Brynjolf spoke.

“Was there anything else she told you?” he asked.

He tossed his dagger from his hand at the training dummy,the blade burying itself in the stuffed throat with a thud. Brynjolf crossedthe short distance to yank the blade free, eyeing her. Fiona hadn’t responded,her neck and throat burning as she looked at the white tufts of cotton comingout of the dummy. Her heartbeat increased, and her fingers began to shake untilthe metal pin in her hand fell to the floor.

“Lass?” His voice was laced with concern. “Fiona, what’s—”He stopped himself, wincing as if he knew it was foolish to ask what was wrong.Considering everything that had occurred, he knew better. Everything was wrong. But she had only been there, back with theGuild—back with him—for a short time.For him, she had died. Herreappearance still had some getting used to. Brynjolf extended his hand to her,and after a moment of just staring at it she finally let him help her stand.

His fingers tightened around hers, not letting her breakaway so easily. His expression was solemn, and a part of her wished thatthey—whatever they were—would go backto the way it was before she left with Mercer. She knew it would take time, butshe yearned for some normalcy. A few flirtatious words, a drifting hand whereit shouldn’t be, a stolen kiss…anything.Fiona never imagined she’d ever be in the state of mind to miss that lecherous version of Brynjolf.

Instead, he had been softwith her. Reserved. He hadn’t said anything, but the way he touched her, theway he had kissed her, it spokevolumes to how he felt. Or maybe she was reading into things. Brynjolf couldhave this air of mystery about him, when he wanted to. She pushed the thoughtsaway. His brows scrunched together as he flicked his gaze across her face.

“I still can’t believe what Mercer did to us,” he startedwith a scowl. “To you.” His otherhand lifted to brush a few strands of her hair behind her ear, fingers ghostingdown before landing on her shoulder. He meant to give a reassuring squeeze, butFiona could only wince in response. A slight panic washed over his features ashe tore his hand away.

Fiona shook her head, trying to reassure him. He couldn’thave known. She glanced back for a split second at the training dummy beforedeciding it was now or never. This wasn’t something to keep hidden, not aftershe had promised herself she would have no more secrets with Brynjolf. Hewatched her curiously as she lifted her fingers to the clasp at her neck,undoing the first few buttons of the armored coat she wore until she could pullthe leather away enough for him to see.

The scar had begun to fade thanks to Karliah’s potions, butit was still visible on her pale skin. A bright red, jagged line that hookedfrom behind her ear down the side of her neck, darkening as it dropped furtheralong her collar and shoulder. Fiona studied Brynjolf’s expression as itmorphed from concern, to anger, to disbelief before he simply closed his eyes.He let out a deep breath before looking at her again. His hands raised to meethers.

“Let me see.”

Fiona didn’t protest, understanding that this was anecessary part of his healing process. She allowed him to help her discard hercoat completely, tossing it over the top of one of the chests. The blouse shewore beneath was loose enough that she could simply shrug her shoulder from thesleeve, bracing one her hands against her chest so it wouldn’t expose too much. Brynjolf let out anothersteady breath as he inspected the healing wound, his fingers gingerly tracingover the scar, careful not to apply too much pressure. His eyes were dark whenthey met hers again, and she read the question in his mind.

She nodded. “Mercer.”

“He’ll pay,” Brynjolf muttered. “He made me think that youwere dead, told me lies to taint your memory. It cannot stand.”

Fiona wasn’t sure what to say, her chest expanding with anemotion she couldn’t place. She wasn’t sure that she even wanted to know. Shewas simply glad that Brynjolf was there to provide her this kind of comfort andreassurance. Without it, she wasn’t sure if she could survive being there anylonger. Her eyes dipped for a moment to his lips and she felt her heart achefor the way he had embraced her not a few hours prior.

“You kissed me,” she abruptly voiced.

Brynjolf raised a brow at her. And then, he smirked, the familiarsight calming her. “Aye. I’ve donethat plenty of times now.”  

“Not like that,”she clarified. “Not like…before. You’ve never had that much…emotion.” Fionacould feel the heat radiating off of his hand as he lightly gripped her arm. “Ididn’t know you were capable of such…” she trailed, not sure why she had evenbrought it up.

“Maybe I should do it again,” he offered. The brief slynesshe had shown slipped away as his tone shifted into something serious. “Just toprove to you that I can.”

Fiona nodded. “You should.”

Anything to havehim continue holding her, touching her in this tender way. His palm restedagainst her cheek, his other hand pulling on her arm to gently bring hercloser. Fiona flicked her eyes closed as she felt the heat of his breath fanacross her lips.

She heard footsteps.

“Good, you’re both here.”

Delvin’s voice cut through the air like another throwndagger. Fiona jerked herself away from Brynjolf, his hand lingering in the airwhere head had just been. He grimaced at Delivn, but the Breton didn’t seem tonotice, or care what he had interrupted.

“Vex and I have run Riften up and down, through and though.”He shook his head. “There’s no sign of Mercer. The bastard.”

“What now?” Fiona asked when the silence between themdragged on. She watched as Brynjolf and Delvin exchanged a few looks, themovement in their faces subtle, as if they were trying to communicate withoutwords. With a sigh, Delvin nodded, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting.” He turned on his heel and left the room.Fiona looked back to Brynjolf and wondered for a split second if the moment frombefore could be recaptured, but found his brows furrowed, clearly deep inthought. When he noticed her watching, he shook his head, dejected.

“Come see me at the Guildmaster’s desk,” he instructed, squeezingher hand one last time before following after Delvin.

Fiona sighed, shaking the remainder of her lingering unknownemotions away. There was work to do.

#elder scrolls: skyrim #slyrim #brynjolf #brynjolf x f!dragonborn #brynjolf x fiona #dragonborn fiona #otp: I shall taunt you a second time #a crab writes #fanfic #alittlestarling #potato answer

[peachblossomss]

Everlasting Inferno

Summary: In a time of peace and love, an angel of the highest order, Sasuke Uchiha, finds out a dark secret of the society he lives in. His actions have consequences, a war begins, and he is cast out of Heaven. His life from then on was one of darkness. Where was his light? Angel AU. Mainly SasuSaku, including NaruHina and NejTen. Rated M.

Link on FF.net!! https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12899698/1/Everlasting-Inferno

Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto

Chapter Two 

- ANGSTY ANGELS

Focus, Sakura, focus!! Damn. The pink haired Virtue huffed as she went through a new taijutsu sequence she was honing in on.

“Ugh, I am never going to get this!! TENTEN WHY’D YOU LEAAVEE” She shouted irritatedly. Wiping the sweat from her pale, freckled brow, she slumped to the glens grassy ground. It was a sunny summery sort of day, and the boys were all on a mission to Earth, (Something about interfering in a battle that was about to break out between two human civilizations. They thought she was a liability to their success). So when she awoke on the day of the mission, Sakura decided to train. She decided she wasn’t going to be a liability any longer. Those fools! Just because I’m not as strong as them doesn’t mean I am such a liability that I had to be left behind. This is the last time. I’m done being worthless in their eyes, she thought to herself with heated determination. With those words, the small, ungraceful angel sat up and took off towards a rocky precipice where her training grounds resides. I. Am. Not. Weak. Focusing her chakra to her feet, the girl of 17 flings herself from the edge, launching far into the buoyant clouds above. Unleashing her slender, ivory wings, she makes an almost graceful aerial flip. Sakura starts plummeting back down to the training ground, tucking her wings in as she goes. I will become great. I am no longer the girl who hides behind the back of a man. With a war cry, the cherry blossom angel speeds herself up by kicking the air with chakra powered through her feet. With quick relocation of her chakra to her fist, the angel pushes toward the ground. In seconds Sakura knows she will land upon the springy grass. “I AM NOT WEAK!!!!!!!!!!” she yells, and with her small, dainty fist, the once picturesque, serene field becomes nothing but a mess of dirt and upturned trees and flowers.

“My,my, my!” A smooth feminine voice sang amusedly. “That was quite the show, Sakura.”

The pinkette spun around quickly in her self-made crater, facing the voice who called her name.

“T-Tsunade-sama! Good afternoon.” she said, with embarrassment.

“Where did you learn such a technique? You have not sought out my aid in becoming a better protector, how did you learn of my chakra manipulation practices?”

“Uhhh…” Sakura stammered, “Well, you see, I have always admired you, and well I have always been amazed on how strong you are, so naturally I watched you whenever you would train with Jiraiya-san, and can I just say, he’s a bigger perv than Kakashi-sensei! Anyway, well, I simply put two and two together. I mean, your medical healing chakra is used by manipulating chakra from your hands to someone else, and I learned the same can be applied while trying to focus chakra for other purposes, like defence and striking…” she trailed off.

“Sakura Haruno!” Tsunade snapped, “I believe you to have talent. Like you expressed, you are not weak, and I believe you have the determination and intelligence of someone who could be great. I am not promising you will become powerful like myself and the other Seraphim, but I can help you become your best you. From this moment on, you will be my apprentice. You’re expected to be here tomorrow, 6am sharp.” With a smirk and a wink, the great Tsunade of The Virtues, one of the top Seraphim, unleashed her deep honey colored wings, that appeared to be dipped in crimson, and flew away into the skies above.

And with that, the ungraceful, frazzled girl slumped down into the now upturned grass once again. She giggled to herself, unabashedly and full of excitement. From a distance, her aristocratic and stoic teammate perched in a tree, he had been watching the events that just transpired. He gasped as Sakura launched herself from the cliffs edge, although he knew she had wings to catch the wind. He stared transfixed as she spun gracefully through the air and plummeted with heart dropping speed towards the grassy plain. He stood in amazement as she created such astounding damage with her feminine hand, and he had to agree, she was not weak. When Tsunade of The Virtues declared that Sakura would become her apprentice, he could not have been more proud and in awe of his annoying little teammate.

-----------

(a few days later)

As Sasuke walked home from his meditation, on a calm, blissful evening, he found himself wondering what his team of friends was up to that night. Was Naruto eating ramen again? Was Sakura with Tsunade, learning how to enhance her skills even more? He pictured the pink haired angel flipping so elegantly through the air, as if she had done it a million times. Sakura... when did you change? How could Naruto and I not see that you have become so different from the girl we first met? When did you start caring about your power as a Virtue and as a protector of Heaven? He walked along the edge of the paths, eyes closed and simply using his other senses to guide his way, lost in his confusing thoughts.

“Sasuke-kuuunn! Wait for me!” he heard from behind

“Tch, what do you want, Sakura? I have somewhere to be.” Sasuke asked, whilst pretending the owner of that soft voice wasn’t just the topic of his inner monologue. A slight blush began to dust his cheeks before he could help it.

“I was just wondering how your mission a few days ago went? I haven’t seen you or Naruto since you all left.”

“Hn, It was fine. We were able to interfere before there were any mass casualties, although, there were a few men who decided they could defeat us, and also defeat their enemy.” he snorted. “They didn’t last long, but Kakashi said not to harm them too much. It was actually kind of amazing, we never really get to apply our battle skills while on a mission...” strangely and near frighteningly, he found himself almost unable to stop telling Sakura of their mission.

“Hmph, well, I’m glad you had such a nice time. While you were away, I had a run in with  Tsunade-shishou---”

“Sasuke, little brother, I think it’s time you take your leave from your friend. Father and Mother have an important meeting to attend and they’d like you to be home when they leave.”  a deep, smothering voice interrupted Sakura’s floaty tone.

“Itachi-san!” she gasped, lowering her eyes, “Good evening! I apologize for keeping Sasuke away when he has family duties to attend to, I will take my leave.”

“Sakura, I’m prou--” before Sasuke could finish his sentiment, the Virtue girl bowed, then flashed away in a swirl of deep green mist, much like the color of her eyes, and a cherry blossom sent, one which often follows along with the pinkette.

“Itachi! I was well on my way home. She simply asked how the last team mission went, it would have been rude of me to ignore her. She is my teammate.” Sasuke bit out.

“Now, now, little brother. I know you wanted to spend time with your little girlfriend, but there is important matters Father would like to discuss with you before he and Mother embark on their meeting to Madaras household.”

“First, she is not my girlfriend. Second, do you know what it is about?”

Itachi becons Sasuke over with a slight, sad smile. “You’ll learn soon enough, Sasuke-kun” and with that, the elder Uchiha brother lightly taps Sasuke upon his forehead, and turns to walk home. What is that all about? What will I learn?? Can’t he just tell me for crying out loud?! From then on out, they walked in silence. One, pouting because he was kept in the dark, unknowing of how lucky he was, and the other trying to numb his mind to the tragic truths he knew. When the pair arrived at the Uchiha compound, where all of the Throne angels reside, Sasuke finds his demanding Father in the entryway.

 “Sasuke, what do you know of the humans and their purpose?”

“Father, what do you mean? They are simply living in peace as God’s creations.”

“FUGAKU! In here, NOW!” yelled a voice from the kitchen. “I thought we agreed we were going to discuss this matter once we returned!” Chided Sasuke’s mother, Mikoto. Fugaku promptly left the boys and walked towards his wife’s formidable distaste. 

“Now, dear, Sasuke deserves to know!” Fugaku tried miserably to whisper.

“He is too young! He has not yet met the hundred years required to become a participating member of Heavens ranks! He should not have to carry the burden of…” her voice died out as the doors to their cozy little kitchen slid closed . Sasuke looked to his older brother in confusion, only to find Itachi had disappeared from their home. What in God’s name is going on? The boy fumed quietly to himself, shuffling loudly out of the room. Whatever it is, I don’t want to be kept in the dark any longer.

The meeting which his parents attended came to pass. His father never brought up what he was going to tell his son, and his loving mother pretended the events that day never occured. So he never asked.

------------

Naruto woke with a start. What was that god awful noise?! Can’t a guy get any sleep around here?!!!!”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“NAARUTO! You better be awake!!” yelled a teasing, feminine voice. The boy groned as he rolled out of bed “Sakura-chan, you must be early! We aren’t going to the lake until this afternoon!”, he said disbelievingly, as he opened the door.

“You idiot, it’s already the afternoon! Come on, get dressed! We have our monthly picnic by the lake, and this time I didn’t forget the wine!” Sakura giggled. The two lively members of Team Seven walked slowly to their favorite spot on the lake, taking their time, joking, and smelling the flowers along their way. Heaven was a beautiful place, with lavish lakes, bubbling streams, powerful rivers, hills, dense forests, beautiful plains, and even some deserts. Heavens beauty never seemed to end, the Seven Heavens, as most angels called the group of floating land that made up the paradise in the sky. It was easy to get lost in the serenity of each and every ray of godly light that was cast upon their home.

“It’s so peaceful here, I never want to leave” the pinkette sighed contently.

“Yeah…it’s pretty peaceful here…”

“Nar, you okay? Whatcha thinking about? Hinata-chan?”, she winked. You know, you should ask her out already! She’s entranced by your daftness” Sakura teased, flicking him on the side of his head.

“Sakura,” Naruto stared at her with disquieted, deep blue eyes. “What if I told you that things weren’t as peaceful as they seemed…?”

“What do you mean Naruto?” The teasing tone gone from her voice, her emerald green eyes reflecting the anxiousness in her male companions.

“Well, recently, the tree has been emiting these, these vibes. I am troubled by them, I feel like something bad is going to happen. I don’t know what they mean, but, it’s strange... I feel almost more powerful, if that makes sense? Like... there is a part of me that can’t wait for this dark event to happen.” He whispered.

He looked up as he felt a delicate hand being placed on his shoulder. “Naruto, no matter what, I believe there is a solution to the reason for the Tree of Life to be acting erratically, and I know Sasuke-kun and I will help you understand what these foreboding feelings mean.” With that, the two angels fell into a contemplative silence, watching the light slowly fade from their endless skies. They didn’t know just how true Naruto’s feelings and intuition from the tree would come be. Indeed, something dark was happening.

——————————————————

AN: Hello once again! Peach here! Thank you for the reviews for chapter one! When I checked the story this morning, I was beyond ecstatic to see four reviews in under 24 hours. I feel like that’s pretty dang awesome for my first chapter of my first fic!! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart<3 This story is going to be broken up into parts. We are currently on Part One, chapter two (tbh this ch could have been waaaay longer, but for flow purposes I decided to break it up a bit more). I am not entirely sure how many chapters each part will have, and in all, I am not sure how many parts this story will have (most likely 3 or 4). The first part is going to be a sort of prelude to future parts, where there will be more sasusaku + other ship interactions. The first part isn’t meant to be super duper long, but I want you all to have a good understanding of the basic plot and background information, that will relate to part two. I will try my best to update frequently, but I do work full time, and I am also a part-time student. I currently have no Beta/ anyone in general to read over my writings, so I’m sorry if there are plot holes and grammar errors. It also takes a lot to not only write, but also outline and review each chapter. I really am trying to get some chapters out fast (bc I absolutely love binge reading a fic, and I’m sure you’re all excited and interested to see how this all unfolds ^_^). Please let me know if anything needs clarification! Once again, please leave your comments, questions, and critiques. Much love!!

-Peach

#everlasting inferno #sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #my story #peach writes #Angel!AU #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #multiship #naruhina #naruto #nejiten #nejten #peachblossom0225

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

You Sound so Good on Radio (RapMon AU)

Plot: AU You’re a DJ at your university’s student-run radio club and were called in to do a sample show last minute for a tour group of potential students. You caught his attention and he knew that he couldn’t go anywhere else. Especially if it meant he could share the airwaves with you at some point.

Rating: PG-13 (Language, implied cheating)

Characters: University Student!Kim Namjoon/Rap Monster x female Reader, University Student/Radio Club President!Kris (EXO-M), University Student/Fellow DJ!Johnny (NCT-127), and mentions of Seokjin and Yoongi (BTS)

Notes: This is an AU setting – all characters, background content, and storyline are fictional! This was an idea I’ve had kicking around in my head inspired by the writer’s personal experience of working in student-run radio shows at school. (It sat on the back burner until I realized it would be a good fit for music lover and brainy student Kim Namjoon.) Y/S/N stands for “your screen name”, Y/E/N is “your ex’s name”, and Y/DJ/N is “your DJ name.”

Happy Birthday Namjoon!

“Can I ask you to do a last minute show?”

“Uhhh maybe,” you drawled as you pressed your phone to your ear, “when?”

He sucked in a sharp breath and forced a smile as he revealed that he needed you to get over to the student radio booth in 40 minutes. Your eyes widened and you changed direction.

“Damn you Kris,” you hissed as you dug around in your bag, briefly checking that you had the essentials. “You’re lucky my next class was canceled – what’s this all about?”

“Potential students tour,” Kris explained. “Sorry Y/N – they threw this on me last minute too. Admissions wanted to show off the student radio program and they wanted a show playing live when the tour came through. I sort of panicked and didn’t know who to ask.”

“You owe me,” you warned him as you made a beeline for the studio, unlocking the door with your ID card. “Are there any rules Admissions set?”

“No profanity because it’s a daytime show, don’t run over into the next scheduled show’s slot…” Kris trailed off, biting his lip. “Um maybe pick some happy tunes or something? I don’t know – just make it seem cool to join radio, okay?”

“I’ll try. Wonder why they care all of sudden,” you droned as you pulled out your laptop and began pulling songs into a playlist.

“How do you take your coffee?” he asked.

“Make it the largest size available and you’re a godsend,” you said before hanging up. You plugged in the cords from the dashboard and began adding in bumpers that would play in between every 3 songs to promote the studio radio station. Complaints aside, radio was a welcome escape for you whenever you wanted a break from the stress of college. Anyone could apply to have a radio program, as long as they showed up for their time slot, followed the radio airwave rules, and attended the radio meetings that took place every other week.

“You’re listening to a special broadcast of Nocturnal Beats, coming to you live and in stereo from the radio station,” you announced into the microphone. “You just heard music from Halsey, a beautiful cover of Adele’s “Hello” by Alice Olivia, and “Skool Luv” by BTS. Speaking of school love, why not show your support for our talented lacrosse team at this Saturday’s game? Game starts at 7 PM, tickets are $7 at the gate…” You tore a glance at the bulletin board nearby to make sure you were covering all of the announcements posted during your talking break. From the corner of your left eye, you spotted a large group of families coming into the building, led by a student tour guide. Satisfied that you covered everything posted, you wrapped up your talking segment as you teased the next few songs coming up in the hour.

“Over here is the student radio booth – all of the programs broadcast are put on by students for students,” the guide said as she gestured to the booth. “Parents and friends are welcome to download the app or live stream it from your computer or WI-fi enabled devices to listen in as well. We have programs running 7 days a week from 7 AM to midnight, ranging from music, talk shows, and we’ve even had a few radio dramas played during the airwaves.”

You avoided the crowd’s gaze as you slotted in a bumper that announced that they were tuned into the student radio site, before blending it out to the next song – a mellow R&B tune from BIGBANG called “Blue”. You pulled the headphones off and switched the mic to off before checking the volume controls and scrolling through the radio instant chat function to answer messages.

js_giraffe: U cheating on me for daytime?

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you typed back to Johnny, AKA your friend who hosted a late night rant/talk show on Wednesdays. Occasionally you put in a guest appearance if he needed someone to banter with on the topics of choice for the shows – most people found your dynamic with him hilarious, especially if he tried to switch accents while you called him out for being a loser.

Y/S/N: ha try Kris needed someone to show off for the tour groups.

js_giraffe: O.o The model DJ…

js_giraffe: I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!

Y/S/N: STFU

Y/S/N: It’s a one-time deal – get over your damn self!

“Now if you follow me, I’ll show you the mailroom,” the tour guide announced as she gestured to a hallway. Most of the families began to follow her to the next room while one young man lingered behind, tilting his head as he watched you switch between answering Johnny’s IMs and queuing more music for the remaining 15 minutes. He glanced over his shoulder at the group and quickly made up his mind to walk over to the glass separating you from him, tapping lightly on it.

You jerked your head up from looking at your laptop screen and held up a finger as you got up, making your way over to the entrance to the booth.

“Hi, may I help you?” you asked as you stuck your head out.

“Oh um ye-yeah!” the young man said. “How is the radio program here? Do you like it?” he asked with a faint accent.

“It’s a lot of fun,” you said slowly with a smile. “I really like it – this is my second year doing it. I started last spring and I’ve been doing it ever since. You can focus on any topic/style of show you want for the most part.” You frowned when you noticed the tour group was long gone.

“Oh I think you um-”

“I’ll find them – no worries,” he replied. He asked you more questions about the studio equipment, scheduling, requirements, etc. before you realized you were at the final 2 minutes of your program.

“Hang on, I need to close out the hour,” you apologized before running back into the station. You slipped the headphones on and turned the mic on, fading out the last song that was playing. “Looks like it’s last call gang – thanks for tuning into this special edition. I’ll catch you at my usual slot Friday night from 10-11 PM. Until then.” You turned off the mic and carefully unplugged your laptop, turning on instrumentals recorded in the station’s dashboard’s memory to fill the void while you packed up. Once you secured your bag on your shoulder, you headed to the door and frowned when you saw the young man was gone.

“So are you crossing this school off your list Joonie?” Yoongi asked his friend over the phone. “I mean, it’s kind of far and you don’t know a lot of English –“

“Actually I think I’m going to apply,” Namjoon replied with a grin as he leaned against the wall. “Campus is nice, professors seem decent, and I like their student life.”

“Wae?! But you can’t leave meeeeeeee!!!” the other male whined. “You’ll be too far away!”

“I think you can survive without me,” Namjoon chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. “Besides, we can always call or Skype. Plus I’ll be home for the holidays.”

“But you have to apply first,” Seokjin interrupted, taking the phone from Yoongi. “There’s no guarantee this school will take you. Make sure you have back-ups in case.”

Namjoon snorted as he changed his phone to his other ear. He reassured Seokjin that he’d apply to a few local schools back home, just to be safe before hanging up and heading back to the area where the tour started. It was clear in his mind – he was getting in here no matter what.

“Welcome back,” Johnny greeted you as you took a seat in the auditorium beside him.

“Right back at you,” you replied, dropping your bag on the ground. “How was your summer?”

He shrugged and muttered that he split his time between Chicago and South Korea, thanks to his parents’ divorce. You listened as he described the tension during each stay, as both single parents had expressed their true feelings about one another to Johnny.

“Sorry Johnny,” you said with a sympathetic smile, “hey so, are you doing late night again?”

Johnny nodded and you confirmed that you were in again for another late night slot, as it was your favorite time to broadcast. You weren’t forced to be as strict with the profanity during timeslots closer to midnight and it was a fun way to get hyped for the weekend. Because this would be your third year of radio, you’d get first dibs on timeslots. A few days prior to the start of the new semester, you had gotten an e-mail from Kris asking if you wanted your old timeslot back, which you replied you did.

“All right guys! Can I have your attention please?” Kris called out, trying to regain control of the large group of students chattering away. He waited a few minutes before speaking again.

“Welcome to University Radio Club,” he began, “if you’re here because you’re taking radio as an elective or just because you want to, you’re in the right place. We meet every other week here at 9 PM – attendance is mandatory for those taking this as an elective. If you are brand new to radio, we’ll start taking sign ups for timeslots via e-mail. Please send us your top three choices and we’ll let you know if any are available. Past DJs will get first choice. Any questions so far?”

“The D-bag’s not doing radio anymore, right?” Johnny whispered as he leaned closer to you.

You shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. The “D-bag” in question was your ex, who cheated on you for two sorority chicks during a Greek life party. You swore he purposely chose the timeslot after you so he could saunter in and ruin your good mood with his presence, as his show was after yours for 3 semesters.

“I’ll deal with it like usual,” you muttered as you watched Kris start discussing the history of radio to the students taking this for credit.

“Welcome back to your place for top hits, fresh sounds, and jams to get you in the mood for your weekend – this is Nocturnal Beats!” you said into the mic with a smile. “Hope everyone stayed cool this summer. The bell may have rung but the fun’s never ending – I’ve got some new sounds to share from EXO and Twenty One Pilots so keep it here for this hour.”

Once you switched off the microphone, your phone buzzed with a text from Kris.

Galaxy

I’ll buy you a drink this weekend if you can do a last minute training for the rookie coming in after you.

Sent 10:07 PM

You

Fine.

Sent 10:08 PM

Hang on – rookie? Not Y/E/N?

Sent 10:08 PM

Galaxy

Nah he never answered my e-mail about radio this semester. This guy’s a first year – asked specifically for this slot.

Sent 10:09 PM

Tall, blonde hair in an undercut, name’s Namjoon Kim. He’s doing a rap show.

Sent 10:10 PM

You frowned as you re-read the texts and typed back a simple OK to Kris. Well, you could breathe easy – no asshole ex to deal with this semester. But you were surprised this kid got a prime spot – most first timers weren’t so lucky and would get an afternoon slot or an early morning time. Albeit his radio show content was probably better suited for nighttime versus editing out every curse word and innuendo possible. You’d meet him soon enough.

You shuttled a few IMs to Johnny and tore your gaze away from your laptop to see a tall Asian guy approaching the station, eerily fitting the description Kris texted you. He was busy typing something on his phone as he approached the radio station, walking into the door with a thud.

You blinked as you scrambled to your feet, eyes wide as he staggered back a few steps, wincing and cursing in Korean as he touched his forehead. Without wasting more time, you queued up a few more songs and a bumper before opening the door and checking on him.

“Hey you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said as he pushed his dark framed glasses up on his nose. He shot you a sheepish smile and put his phone away in his pocket.

You studied him thoughtfully, examining his features. He looked awfully familiar…

“Hey so Y/N right? I don’t know you if you remember me, well I had dark hair last time we met, but um…” he trailed off, a shy smile on his face.

“Hang on, were you the guy who got left behind by the tour group to ask me questions about the radio station?” you recalled as you stepped out of the doorway. “Last semester in mid-March, right?”

He nodded as his smile spread across his face, resulting in the cutest dimples on his cheeks. You blinked as you silently compared the previous image you had of him in your mind to the guy standing before you now. He was cute then but with the blonde color and new haircut, he looked hot. It also sounded like his English had improved and the lingering trace of his accent was barely noticeable. Summer sure was kind to him…

“Wow I didn’t know you got in – congrats!” you replied as you nudged the door open wider, letting him into the station waiting room. “Welcome to university! I can’t believe you decided to take up radio too.”

Namjoon stepped through the doorway and watched as you closed the door to the station. “Well, it’s a funny story,” he began as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “A really chill DJ was doing a special show during my tour visit and she had a really hot voice. I was kind of a loser just staring at her and asking her dumb questions about radio, but she was so patient and really nice. So I felt encouraged to apply – I mean, I liked the classes and the professors too, but hearing this DJ was like the icing on the cake. I wanted to come here and do radio too. Maybe run into her again.”

You ducked your head and smiled, crossing your arms over your chest. “You found me Namjoon,” you replied.

He squared his shoulders and allowed a slightly cocky smile to cross his lips. “Rap Monster. No DJ, just Rap Monster around here.”

You contemplated his moniker and nodded in approval.

“It suits you,” you said. “Well you’ll go live for your first show in 10 minutes – think you’re ready?”

He removed his glasses from his nose and swapped them for a pair of dark wayfarers, pushing them up on his nose.

“Bring it on Y/DJ/N.”

#Kim Namjoon #Happy Birthday Namjoon #Rap Monster #Rap Monster imagine #Kim Namjoon imagine #BTS Rap Monster #BTS AU #BTS imagine #KNJ #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2118