dr1diot

[dr1diot]

catching feelings pt 2

pairing: iura shuu x fem!reader

synopsis: your pov after iura throws water on you…

part one

oh, you were going to kill him. you were going to bash in his pretty little face—

pretty?

the towel slipped from your hands, falling to the floor with a wet splat.

there was no way you just thought that. you were just a little…tired!

exactly!

haha!

you’d been through a long, long day, and had even got water thrown on you! it was perfectly understandable that your brain was a little loopy right now.

you picked up the towel, placing it in the laundry basket in the corner of the nurse’s office—humming all the while.

yes, yes, that was it—you were just tired. otherwise you never would’ve thought that iura shuu of all people was pretty. the mere thought almost made you laugh.

you took your slightly-damp button-up and put it back on, teeth gritting at the way it clung to your skin—you cursed how difficult it was to get wet clothes back on.

you finally gave up after a good five minutes of struggling, opting to leave the shirt on the clothesline stretching from the balcony of the nurse’s office to the adjacent building.

the summer sun would make quick work of it.

you grabbed one of the bigger towels and wrapped it around yourself to maintain a modicum of modesty—it wouldn’t bode well if someone barged into the office to find you sitting on a cot half-naked now, would it?

you checked the clock—the nurse said she would be returning in half an hour, citing some business she had in a different part of the school. more than enough time to dry your shirt and rush out of there.

you had to get home to start on homework.

you counted the seconds go by painfully slow, going over to your shirt to check it every few minutes—while also keeping an eye on the door nervously.

there were always quite a few people who remained after school—even if the athletes had their athletic trainer, there was no telling what other after-school clubs remained lurking through the building—

it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye out.

so you sat there, one eye on the clock and the other on the door.

thankfully, within a tense ten minutes, your shirt had dried and you were free to go. you donned it with little difficulty, letting out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

within a few minutes, you were out of the building, bag slung across your body and the top few buttons of your shirt popped open. it was way too fucking hot.

you’d been fully prepared to enjoy the rest of your day, waltzing out of the building in high spirits—surely this day couldn’t get any worse.

you were proven wrong the first two steps out of the door.

one: because right smack dab in front of you, was iura shuu.

irritation wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you felt at the sight of that too-recognizable messy mop of green hair.

and two: because just as he turned around, a rain cloud that you swore wasn’t there two seconds ago spawned overhead, dumping sheets and sheets of rain down from above.

something seemed to simmer and snap in your chest as you both simultaneously peered up at the sky.

iura stuck a hand out from under the protection of the entrance awning, only to withdraw it immediately upon feeling the battering raindrops.

haha!

well, good thing you were prepared—you always carried around an umbrella in your bag. it didn’t seem like the rain was going to stop anytime soon, so you unpacked and unfurled it in one smooth motion, giving iura the stink eye before stepping into the downpour.

“wait!” his voice grated against your eardrums as he frantically tried to get your attention. “um…l/n-san…so, i know you don’t exactly have the best impression of me…”

you scoffed. that was the understatement of the year.

“but i would reaaaaaaaally appreciate if you could do me a favor just this once!”

you turned slowly, eyes narrowed into a glare that would have any other guy shitting his pants. but iura was a little messed up in the head, so he simply smiled nervously.

“i was wondering if we could share your umbrella? just for a little bit! i know we go in the same direction for a bit, right?”

you swore a vein was ready to burst at your temple. but you masked the rage with a bland smile and responded, “i’m sorry. i’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“p-please! i have to get home to help my sister with a project! i promised i would!”

you lifted a brow. he didn’t seem like the type—it was probably just a petty excuse. “just run home then. it’s only a little water.” you scowled as he made those big, sad puppy eyes at you. “you got me soaking wet, after all. consider it as payba—”

he choked.

“…did i say something funny?”

“no, sorry, go on.”

you stared at him hard for a solid few seconds, heard clicking in your head—what did you say that had him red-faced and averting his eyes?—

you gasped.

“oh my god. you creep. you freak.”

“NO I SWEAR I DIDN’T MEAN IT—”

“YOU FREAK!”

there were quite a few heads turning in your direction as you lunged towards him with a shriek, folding your umbrella and raising it high above your head in place of your wooden sword—

but just as you were about to bring it down on his head, he caught it, sandwiching it between his palms—

“AHHH NOOO PLEASE DON’T KILL ME I SWEAR I WASNT THINKING ANYTHING LEWD—”

“iura,” you uttered with pure ice, lowering your umbrella-sword slowly. “you better believe that you won’t be able to walk after this.”

his hands trembled where they gripped your umbrella, arms locked stiffly in place like he thought bracing himself would actually help him survive this.

“wait—WAIT,” he wheezed, crouching slightly as if that would make your next blow hurt less. “y-you said ‘soaking wet’ and i—i wasn’t thinking, okay?! i-it just sounded—out of context—I didn’t mean—!”

“out of context my ass,” you hissed, slowly stepping toward him like some horror movie villain. “what kind of pervert brain takes that out of context?”

“iura shuu’s brain,” he whispered, ashamed.

you stopped.

he blinked up at you, soaked and pathetic. even under the awning, the rain had splattered his uniform shirt, sticking it to his skin. the green of his hair was darkened, curled messily from the humidity, and his chest fell and rose quickly from his panicked breathing.

you looked at him. really looked.

…goddammit.

he was kind of pretty.

agh. there it was again. that horrible, horrible thought.

you groaned and rubbed your temples. “i hate you,” you muttered.

“i know,” he sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his wet shirt. “i kinda hate me too.”

you almost laughed.

almost.

with a frustrated grunt, you shoved the umbrella into his chest. “fine. we can share. but if you breathe weird i’m taking one of your kidneys.”

“understood!” he squeaked, holding the umbrella like it was a sacred relic and scrambling to walk beside you.

you marched into the rain together, each step punctuated by thunder and the wet squelch of your shoes. the air was thick with humidity, cicadas still screaming somewhere in the distance despite the downpour.

he walked stiffly beside you, clutching the umbrella at a weird angle that somehow still left you half-soaked and him completely dry.

“you’re holding it wrong,” you snapped, yanking it lower toward your side.

“sorry! sorry, i have scoliosis or something—!”

“yeah, i can tell.”

“wow,” he muttered, voice small. “she hates my personality and my posture.”

you resisted the urge to whack him again. barely.

the silence stretched for a bit, just the sound of rain and your mutual damp suffering.

then—

“i really am sorry, you know,” he said softly, glancing sideways at you.

you looked at him out of the corner of your eye.

“for getting you wet earlier.” he paused. “i mean—the water. not—i—”

“finish that sentence and i will kill you.”

he held up his hands in surrender, face burning. “right! no! yeah. just. sorry. i wasn’t thinking and then you were glaring at me and i panicked and my brain goes dumb around pretty girls—”

you stopped walking.

his eyes widened. “i mean—”

“ohhh my god,” you breathed.

“no! wait! i meant hypothetically—like, if someone were to be pretty—which you’re not!! i mean, you are, but i’m not saying that—”

you groaned loudly and stomped ahead of him, letting the umbrella tilt just far enough to completely drench him.

he shrieked. “AHH—NO—the wetness—it’s back—”

“serves you right,” you grumbled, secretly hiding the blush crawling up your neck.

you hated him.

you hated how dumb and annoying and hopelessly earnest he was.

you hated how red his ears got when he got flustered.

you hated how warm your chest felt when he called you pretty without realizing it.

goddammit.

you really hated iura shuu.

so why were you smiling?

@xyroyuumiko here ya go

[dr1diot]

when everyone else is gone

pairing: kakashi x fem!reader

synopsis: kakashi hadn’t been expecting to lose everyone. his whole team—obito, then rin, then his sensei. it seemed like everyone he loved was slipping through his fingers one after the other—except for you. only you were left now—and so he clung to you like a man lost at sea would cling to a piece of driftwood.

it was after the fourth hokage’s funeral that kakashi found you.

you’d been standing silently with your chin dipped and eyes closed as the village—for indeed, it seemed as if the entirety of konoha had come—took a moment of silence for the hokage, his wife, and the many others that had lost their lives in the nine tails attack.

some wept. some glared at the ground. some stared blankly at the sky. yet all grieved for the lost, most of all for their beloved hokage and his wife. a beautiful young couple lost too early.

yet none grieved more than kakashi. even though he did not weep or glare, his heart broke more loudly than any other.

minato had been a second father to him, and kushina a mother. there was no bottom to the well of grief that he’d been dropped into. that he’d slowly been slipping into as more and more of his heart cracked and splintered off, until only one shard was left—you.

you’d been there for him after every loss. at every funeral. at night, you’d hold him in your arms, rocking him gently without a word—you did not offer comforting words or promises that everything would be alright. because that was something you couldn’t guarantee. but you were there. and for him, that was enough. a reminder that there was someone left out there who still cared for him, who’d hold and love him. that was enough.

and now, once again, he found himself in your arms.

the rain hadn’t let up the whole day, continuing into the night—yet the pitter-patter faded into the background as you shut the curtains, joining kakashi on your bed.

you said nothing as he laid down, resting his head on your lap—his eyes remained half-lidded, staring at nothing as you wove your fingers through his silver locks, massaging his scalp gently.

silence once again flooded the room, the only sound the distant drumming of rain against the windows and roof, the faint sound of breathing, and the groan of the mattress as you shifted your weight.

kakashi sat up suddenly, taking your hands in his as he twisted to face you. “y/n.” his voice was raspy from disuse, and his eyes were bright with pain. “you won’t leave me, too, right? promise you won’t leave me.”

you only shook your head, throat clogging at the desperation dripping from his very being. “you know i can’t. i’m a shinobi. in this field, we never know when we’ll die.”

“then—then retire. quit being a shinobi. i’ll pay for everything; i’ll make sure you ‘re happy and comfortable. so just…please…” he trailed off as you, again, shook your head.

“i’m sorry, kakashi, but i can’t just run away when there’s danger, you know? i’m a proud shinobi of the leaf, i can’t just quit. i—we—both have an obligation to this village. it’s our home. if we don’t protect it, who will?”

“there will always be someone else to take your spot. always. we have so many up-and-coming genin, so many—we can afford to lose one shinobi—” you silenced him with a finger to his masked lips.

“i am a jonin, kakashi. we form the backbone of konoha’s fighting force. even the loss of one is devastating. you understand this, too. do not let your emotions cloud your judgement.” it was what you both had been told your entire lives. the same rule that every shinobi in all the lands abided by. or tried to, at least.

he wilted before your eyes, seemingly shrinking as he lowered himself again, surrendering himself to your soothing ministrations.

there was a pregnant pause before he spoke again. “then…promise me you’ll stay alive as long as you can.”

“mm. i promise.”

“good.” he nuzzled his face into your lap, inhaling deeply “good.”

he exhaled. “if we both survive long enough…i swear i’ll marry you. is that ok with you?”

you laughed. “yes, kakashi. that’s ok with me.”

“kakashi-sensei! you’re late!”

three genin stood in front of the silver-haired jonin, one with his arms crossed and off to the side, the other two with accusatory fingers and glares pointed in the direction of their teacher.

“aha, sorry! on my way here, a black cat crossed my road, you see…”

“liar! you probably overslept or something!” the loudest and most obnoxious one stepped forward, voice resonating through the air as his blond haired swayed in the wind.

“now, now…” kakashi put his hands up in front of his in an appeasing manner. “let’s calm down…”

“nah, i bet kakashi-sensei was enjoying a nice, hot breakfast made by his wife this morning while we had to wait out in the cold since dawn! isn’t that right, sensei?!” the pinkette on the blond’s right exclaimed, emerald eyes burning with anger at her sensei.

“a-ahaha…wait, how did you know i have a wife?”

“the ring on your finger, duh!” she exclaimed, gesturing towards it—and yet it was seemingly the first time either of her teammates had noticed it, both the uzumaki and uchiha’s eyes going wide as saucers at the band of silver.

“wait wait wait, kakashi-sensei has a what now?!?”

[dr1diot]

i hate you, but…

pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

cw: sexual harassment kind of?!? a little bit

synopsis: you were on the girls basketball team, while kuroo was on the volleyball team—you were usually released from practice at the same time. so it wasn’t strange, then, that as neighbors and childhood ‘friends,’ you’d always run into each other in the way home. only problem? you hate each other’s guts.

but when a lecherous old creep on the train decides to pay you too much attention, he can’t sit idly back.

you weren’t at all dainty, nor soft-looking. you were an athlete—lean and tall and well-muscled.

even a grown man would think twice before trying anything funny with you.

so for much of your high school life, you hadn’t had many experiences with harassment on public transport, like many of your other female classmates had.

and yet, tokyo being tokyo, there were still creeps around—every big city had them. it was just more apparent to certain women.

but you were not one of them—so it made some sense that you didn’t quite know how to react when an old man smelling faintly of alcohol and sweat plopped down next to you, his thigh pressed against yours as more and more people packed into the train car.

at first you blamed his proximity on the sheer number of people squashed together—it was rush hour, after all. people were returning from school and work after a long day, tired and brain numb—he probably just didn’t notice the way he pressed a little too closely to you, the way the smell of body odor wafted from his armpits—

blegh.

not wanting to be rude, you didn’t say anything—you made excuses in your head, reasoned against your better judgement.

and yet, as the train kept on its course and more people began leaving the car, you couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t moved yet. there was now plenty of space to go around, empty seats that he could easily move to, surely—

and that’s when you felt it.

his hand—oh god, it was on your thigh.

he’d hidden it from the view of the other passengers by angling his briefcase just so, and god his sweaty hand was moving up, under your skirt—

you froze. every thought seemed to drain from your mind as the man kept feeling you up, hand roaming up and down your leg, and higher still.

you didn’t know what to do.

you looked around the train car with wide eyes and trembling lips—willing somebody, anybody to just look up and meet your eyes—

but everyone was looking down, either at their phone or a book or at their lap in an exhausted stupor.

a flash of red at the end of the carriage caught your eye. two boys in red warm-up hoodies, one of them all-too-familiar, and usually all-too-annoying—

but right now, you didn’t care of your supposed hatred of the rooster-haired volleyball player with the obnoxious hyena-laugh. you just wanted this creepy old man to get away from you.

kuroo was one of the few people on the train with his head up, and as you stared burning holes into the side of his head, he seemed to feel your gaze and turned towards you—

he met your eyes first, brows scrunching in confusion at the sheer panic there—and then his gaze dropped.

and his eyes widened.

you didn’t have to say anything, or do anything else. he was by your side in an instant.

“hey, l/n-san! fancy meeting you here! i didn’t realize you took this train too, haha. i’ve never seen you here before.” a lie. you two always saw each other—just refused to talk. you didn’t quite remember when this mutual disdain for each other started—was it when he beat you out for the top-scorer in chem? it was a blur—it started so long ago, after all, when you were both kids. maybe it was when he’d accidentally spiked a volleyball in your face after convincing you it’d be fun. you’d never touched a volleyball again after that day. but you’d paid him back with a basketball chucked at the back of his head, at least.

you looked up at him, smiling weakly. you only nodded, though, not trusting yourself to say anything.

kuroo had a hand slung through the handhold overhead, his shadow looming over you—and by extension, the man next to you.

the frog in your throat finally seemed to hop out as the man’s hand retracted discreetly, and a quick peek at kuroo told you why.

his gaze was pinned on the man, who’d been stealing nervous glances at the towering figure overhead—you realized then for the first time that kuroo could actually be intimidating, as absurd as it sounded—and, oh, the look in kuroo’s eyes—

it promised hell on earth if the man didn’t remove his hand—which had then been hastily withdrawn.

“so, about the chem homework—you know, the packet we got today—oh, i’m sorry, sir—are we being loud?” kuroo turned to acknowledge the man fully, donning an apologetic smile that didn’t reach his eyes—and as he looked down his nose at the man, you think it might have also been one of silent warning. “we’ll just go over there, then. sorry about that.”

he scooped your bag up in one arm, taking your hand in his and tugging lightly.

you rose on legs that felt like lead, following the rooster-head to his side of the car in a daze. you sat beside him, and he handed you your bag, which you accepted with a murmured thanks.

a silence filled with the sound of the rattling train drifted between you two, long and awkward, until kuroo finally turned and addressed you. “you ok?”

“yeah.” you swallowed thickly, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “i’ll be fine—it was just…unexpected. and gross. sorry about getting you mixed in—i panicked. i didn’t know what to do.”

kuroo glared at the floor of the car, and for a second you worried he was mad at you. but then he growled, “i should have punched him.”

you rolled your eyes, the absurdity of the proclamation lightening your mood. “don’t kid yourself—you wouldn’t dare.”

“i would.”

you looked at him out of the corner of your eye—was he serious? would he really? there was no hint of joking or laughter in his eyes.

“well, it’s a good thing you didn’t. you’d only get in trouble.”

he huffed, crossing his arms. “that guy is the one who deserves to get in trouble.”

“yeah, well.” you glanced back toward the old man, who’d promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling the second you’d left. “i don’t think he’ll be a problem anymore.” not with kuroo around, at least.

you looked back to your classmate and long-time neighbor, chewing your inner cheek before asking, “would you mind if i sat with you guys from now on?”

“of course not.”

kenma—who you recognized as another neighbor, though farther than kuroo—looked up from his gaming console to nod solemnly, and his gold eyes seemed to flash as he finally laid eyes on you. “kuroo, is this the girl you’re always talking about? the one you said you like?”

a long, long, silence fell between the three of you.

“w-whaaat?! when did i say that, haha?!”

[dr1diot]

out of time

pairing: tobirama & daughter!oc

synopsis: ahiko senju realizes she should have mended her relationship with her father far sooner—because now, she’ll never get the chance.

she’d had a sinking feeling in her gut ever since their argument the night before they’d left for this damned mission.

she’d paid it no mind, having no intention of speaking to her father until he apologized to her. until he admitted she was right. but he was just as stubborn as her—so they hadn’t talked that entire night, nor the morning after. and then they had left for the mission.

and now, she could only wish she had listened to that tugging feeling. could only wish she hadn’t been so stubborn, hadn’t refused to talk to him. wished she had let go of her pride and apologized first, because now—

now she would never get the chance to.

her father’s words rung heavy in her ears as the entire squad stared up at him in shock.

“no, i will go and be the decoy, of course. you all are the young wills of fire that will be defending our village in the future.”

ahiko heard danzo protesting from somewhere on her right, but his words as well as the following reprimand from the second hokage were lost in the roaring that filled her head.

no. no, it can’t end like this. our relationship can’t end with all those terrible things i said to him.

a flash of panic had her twitching toward her father as he stood, eyes still locked on hiruzen.

no. don’t leave.

“saru,” he said, gravelly voice rumbling through the clearing. “protect those who love the village and those who believe in you. and nurture those to whom you can entrust the next generation. starting tomorrow, you are the hokage.”

ahiko should have been shocked at the sudden announcement, but all she could feel was this wave of dread crashing over her—he couldn’t go. she wouldn’t let him.

but before she could open her mouth, his gaze whipped to her and the silent ravenet beside her.

“you two.” his voice was marginally softer than when he’d addressed sarutobi and danzo. “take care of each other. and…i’m sorry. for everything.”

that’s all he said before nodding shallowly at the rest of them and turning his back.

“now go. the enemy approaches.”

everyone stood except for her. she couldn’t move. her legs wouldn’t listen to her. they were locked in place, just like every other part of her body as her breaths grew uneven.

there was no way she’d leave him to die. to run away like a dog while he stayed and fought to protect them. to protect her. she’d sooner die—

“ahiko. we have to go.” someone grabbed her upper arm and hoisted her to her feet. she looked over, prepared to shove the unwelcome hand away, but she couldn’t. not when it was her brother, stone-faced yet brimming with emotion—he had an even worse relationship with their father than herself. what could he be thinking right now? what regrets would be coursing through his veins?

it was this thought alone that got her feet moving, her hands unclenching. but not in the direction the rest of her team wanted her to go.

she ran up to her father before wrapping her arms around his broad frame, resting her forehead against his armored back. the metal was cool against her skin.

“i love you.” her voice broke, and she squeezed once—tightly—before letting go.

he didn’t turn as she stepped back, heart clogged in her throat. he didn’t say anything.

didn’t, because he knew if he turned, saw the way tears shimmered in her crimson eyes—

he wouldn’t be able to leave.

so he nodded once, swallowing thickly—

and leapt into the forest, in the direction of his death.

the whole story is on wattpad. get context here!

[dr1diot]

huangxi

pairing: zhongli x goddess!reader

synopsis: how did the name of your human vessel come about?

read this first : here are those who share the memories

the only sound you could hear was the roaring of blood in your head. the furious bashing of your heart against your ribcage. the voice in your head screaming at you to kill kill kill—

golden ichor dripped from your weapons, your hands, your face. liquid proof of the countless deaths you carried like mountains on your back.

gods fell before your blade—as well as the humans that worshipped them, who had been rallied against the might of morax’s forces—

and as his most trusted general, you led the initial onrush against the enemy forces while he rained stone spears from the sky.

so there you were. whirling from enemy to enemy, blade opening throats, guts, hamstrings; punching through hearts, eyes, lungs; hacking through limbs, severing heads—

vaguely, you were aware of morax’s yaksha behind you, death following in each’s wake as surely as it did yours. overhead, cloud retainer’s piercing screech rang across the battlefield as she hurtled from the sky at terrifying speeds, her long beak aimed at throats, eyes, hearts, her razor-sharp claws outstretched to slice through flesh.

but it didn’t matter. nothing else mattered besides the next enemy, the next target.

your vision became a haze of red as you opened a man’s throat and his thick, hot blood sprayed into your eyes.

perhaps that was what had allowed the young boy to circle behind you and take you by surprise.

you’d taken a second to blink the blood from your eyes—if even. you could’ve sworn it hadn’t been more than a heartbeat. but perhaps you were more fatigued than you thought.

it was as you’d finished opening your eyes that you’d heard the youngest yaksha—xiao—scream your name in warning.

and you’d whipped around, alarm bells blaring in blind panic as you sensed a human presence behind you—

and then the boy had hamstrung you.

you’d let out a hoarse scream as your leg gave way from under you, sword clattering to the ground as you collapsed to a knee—

the boy raised his weapon to deliver the killing blow, but he was too slow. even injured, you were still a god.

you, with your bare hands, caught the boy’s arm—and wrenched it from his body.

his scream was one of the most horrible things you’d heard in your life. it was so high pitched—

the boy collapsed in the dirt, clutching the bloody stump as you panted above him, spitting blood from your mouth. staggering to your feet, you bared your teeth at the boy—

but you blinked as you stared down at that dirty, bloodied face contorted in agony.

you made sure he was empty-handed before you knelt next to him.

“just kill me.” the boy snarled, tears leaving clear tracts on his dust-coated cheeks. but it clicked in your head. even this pained noise sounded unusually high-pitched and delicate.

you cocked your head as you placed a hand on the boy’s chest—

ah.

this was no boy.

“girl. why are you on the battlefield? this is no place for you.” the blood on your tongue suddenly tasted revolting, and your heart squeezed.

the baggy pants you wore became soaked with red as the girl’s lifeblood spilled in great gushes from the hole where her arm had been—spurting in time with her thundering heartbeats.

she was sobbing, teeth gritted, but still managed to reply. “my—my father. he’s sick. i didn’t want him to—to die.”

your eyes fluttered shut. “you should have stayed home, child.” your gut churned. you’d killed so many gods and humans over the course of the war that you’d lost count. but this—

you’d never killed a child before. much less a girl. a young, innocent girl who’d barely hit puberty, probably. her chest was still far from developed, and her limbs—her remaining ones—sat awkwardly on her body, too long and lanky. she still needed time to grow into them.

time she would not get.

you opened your eyes, staring down at her.

she was young. she was young, but she was brave. much braver than many of the full-grown men who you watched turn tail and run at the sight of you.

she had the courage to approach you—enough brains to flank you—and now the dignity to meet your eyes and keep your gaze as she lay dying.

you sensed xiao coming to your side, covering your back as you knelt there. he asked no questions, simply clutched his polearm as he scanned the battle raging around you.

you thought of apologizing, for being so consumed by bloodlust and rage and pain that you did not notice it was a no grown adult that approached from behind.

but how could you apologize to a warrior who’d given it her all to defend what she loved? it would tarnish her honor. even if young, she’d put her life on the line to fight for her god.

“girl. what is your name?”

she hacked and coughed, but you waited patiently until she opened her mouth.

“huangxi.”

“a pretty name.”

she coughed again, her breaths growing shallower.

“what is your father’s name? i shall deliver your body to him.”

“huangli.”

“i see.” you took her remaining hand, which she’d extended weakly toward you. “you fought bravely, girl. i shall remember your name.”

she smiled shakily at that. “thank you.”

and then, she was gone.

her eyes glazed over, and you closed them gently as she stared lifelessly up at the sky.

“the enemy forces are beginning to retreat. the gods leading them have been slain—shall we pursue?” xiao didn’t look down at you as you scooped the girl’s body against your chest.

you stood slowly, wincing as pain lanced through your leg—but it was healing. perks of being a god, you supposed.

“no. there has been enough blood shed today. unless rex lapis says otherwise, we shall bury our dead and treat our wounded.” indeed, you’d spotted a gash on the inside of the vigilant yaksha’s arm oozing blood.

at the mention of wounds, his eyes flickered to your own wound—the gold blood that ran from it. “i shall inform him, then.”

he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

you curled the girl a little more protectively against your chest as you watched the retreating enemy forces—now only made up of humans.

and then you turned your face skyward.

now to find the girl’s father.

three whole days had passed by the time you returned to rex lapis’s side. he was alone atop mount tianheng, a steaming mug of tea set on stone table he sat at.

perhaps he noted the darkness lingering upon your face, but he did not ask questions.

he only cocked his head, scenting the blood on you—and then opened his arms. inviting you to either accept or reject his gesture—you two were not, after all, lovers.

only friends who understood each others pain—and used each other for comfort.

you moved without hesitation, striding over to him swiftly—he was in his godly robes, a white length of fabric gilded with gold wrapped around his torso and pooling to the ground.

he reached for you with arms that faded from obsidian black to a dark gold, his skin cold as stone—and yet, as you sat in his lap and curled into his chest, you found odd comfort in the chill they provided as he wrapped them around you.

a long time passed before you were ready to speak—the moon was out and the stars were twinkling by the time you opened your mouth. and he waited for you patiently.

“i killed a little girl, morax.” you whispered into his solid chest. the words were muffled, but he understood.

sadness gleamed in those amber eyes as he stroked your hair gently, pressing a kiss to your temple. “it was not your fault. even if you hadn’t been the one, she most likely would have been killed by another. do not blame yourself.” he shook his head. “many tragedies occur during war, y/n.”

you understood what he was saying. it made sense. and yet—

“i’m tired.” you mumbled.

“then sleep.”

you closed your eyes, knowing he knew what you truly meant—that you were tired of war. of killing. of drowning in blood and ichor day in and day out—

but both of you knew you could not simply stop fighting. could not simply give up. if you did, your enemies would not let you go—they would kill you and all your allies to make sure no threat remained to their rule. to the throne they would receive.

and you both knew that when the time came, when morax would win that throne—he had to win—that they, too, could not leave survivors.

there could be no opposition.

“morax.”

“yes?”

“when this war is finished, and if you are still alive—what do you wish to do?”

“…i’ve never thought of that before.”

you looked up at him, eyes softening. “do you wish to spend the rest of your days in liyue? or would you wish to see other places?”

he raised an eyebrow. “the whole of liyue will be my dominion. i shall not have time to sightsee.”

you glanced over to the lights of the guili assembly below the mountain, the large civilization spanning the vast stretch of land between mountains tianheng and the stone gate. “can you not have guizhong handle your responsibilities for a short time? the lord of dust is a compassionate god—surely she’d be willing to help you get a…what do humans call it? a vacation?” a hint of humor colored your voice as you sat up, bracing your hands on his chest. “i wish to leave liyue, morax. when this war is done. i want to see the rest of teyvat.”

“you will not stay with me?” he asked, hands coming to rest around your waist as his brows pinched in—he was worried.

your heart squeezed. you did not wish to worry him, not now. not when the war was coming to a climax—the fighting from here would only become bloodier.

there was no need to tax him any further. he, too, was not invulnerable to the guilt that came after killing swathes of people—even if they were enemies.

“i jest, morax. not to worry—the day i leave you is the day i shall die, my dear friend.”

you planted a chaste kiss on his lips, watching him relax underneath you with satisfaction.

“i beg of you, do not jest about your death, y/n.”

you laughed heartily. “who knew the lord of geo could be such a faint-hearted maiden?”

he only shook his head, sighing.

you two spent the rest of the night wrapped around each other, not offering anymore words as you watched the moon and stars.

centuries later—when the archon war was finally over, you wouldn’t remember the words shared here.

you wouldn’t remember the remarks you’d made in jest.

yet he would.

and when you disappeared—mired in grief and exhaustion and the blood of thousands, simply wanting a breath of fresh air—he assumed the worst.

he remembered the jest you’d made atop that mountain.

and when he could not find you in the whole of liyue, he broke.

he’d screamed and screamed and screamed—and even his adepti, his yaksha, his most devoted followers could not calm him. he’d lost so many friends to the war—and yet, you’d made it.

you’d both made it.

and he was happy. he could live as long as you breathed—as long as you were by his side, he could face anything—even the deaths of his many other friends.

so the thought of you ending your own life after making it through the conflict where so many others had died—

spears of stone had rained from the sky with his tears, transforming the landscape of liyue.

mountains had been raised and torn down, oceans had risen and fallen, and at the end of the calamity—

his heart was still broken.

for unwittingly, he’d lost the love of his life—without ever getting to tell her of his feelings. of the love that he harbored for her, deep in his heart.

he lived with that pain for centuries upon centuries, until all the shattered fragments of his heart turned to stone.

and when he finally saw you again, disguised as a human atop the wangshuu inn—

his heart thawed.

oh, he felt close to tears. and this time, stone spears would not fall from the sky.

basically a bit of context for ‘here are those who share the memories’

[dr1diot]

catching feelings

pairing: iura shuu x fem!reader

synopsis: iura shuu had never viewed you as anything but a person to be feared—to be avoided. after a certain incident, however, his views begin to change.

it was strange, you thought to yourself. there was no reason to get mixed up with the obnoxious, loud-mouthed iura.

you were a model student—near-flawless grades, an active member of the student council, uniform always pressed and arranged immaculately, and most importantly—you spoke at a responsible volume. you didn’t go screaming and running through the halls like a certain green-haired classmate.

well, unless you were chasing said boy down the halls while chewing his ear off about his uniform, anyway.

he’d always found a way to get under your skin. ever since you’d met him during your second year at katagiri high, there was simply something about him that had your nerves set on edge, your hackles raised.

perhaps it was the volume at which he stomped around the school, paying no heed for those around him while trumpeting every last thought in that empty brain of his.

to be frank, it pissed you off.

but you’d learned to live with it. he was, after all, not someone who was supposed to bother you outside of class. you tried your best to put up with him when you could—though you sometimes lost your temper watching him walk around in clear violation of the dress-code with his bright orange hoodie, happily squawking away with that ishikawa boy—and couldn’t help but take the old shinai the kendo club had discarded and smack him upside the head—it was the student council’s job to reprimand and discipline (arguably—in most cases you wouldn’t care so much, but in his case you believed discipline was absolutely necessary) the students of katagiri high, after all. but that was besides the point.

he wasn’t supposed to be someone you saw more than absolutely necessary.

so why, why was he lounging around the student council’s room in his bright orange hoodie, an arm wrapped around sengoku and kouno-san, chatting their ears off with his feet raised on your part of the table—

your hand reflexively jumped to the wooden shinai propped up in the corner. the green-head had the good sense to turn around as murderous intent flooded the room, eyes growing wide at the sight of you.

“o—oh! l/n-san! fancy meeting you here!” he chuckled nervously, beads of sweat dripping down his face as he backed up with his hands stretched out in between you two, as if they’d do anything to protect him.

“indeed! especially considering this is the student council’s room!” you agreed, a vein bulging at your temple as you not-so-discreetly conveyed that this was not, in fact, his after-school hang out spot.

you hadn’t noticed ishikawa, hori, and yoshikawa in the corner of the room when you’d first entered—your focus had jumped solely to the green-haired chatterbox in front of you, but you could see them backing up fearfully from the corner of your narrowed gaze, the sickly sweet smile adorning your face a strong indicator of just how close you were to snapping.

“a-ah, l/n-san…actually, sakura and i agreed to let them come into this room when they need air conditioning…you know how how it gets in the summer and everything. we’re sorry for not giving you notice ahead of time, but surely it won’t be too much of a problem…?” sengoku’s voice squeaked slightly as he addressed you, taking a tentative step closer.

“i have no problem with the others, sengoku-kun. but him…” your grip around the shinai tightened as you took a step forward, your smile turning positively venemous as iura took another step back, face paling until he seemed to be almost blue.

his friends in the corner of the room seemed to be praying for him, yet too scared to step in on his behalf. indeed, you were known throughout the school to be the scary upperclassmen—which is exactly why you were chosen to be the student council’s attack dog. no one had the guts to stand up to you.

even sengoku could do nothing as you raised the shinai, smacking it once against the palm of your hand as you stared down your nose at iura.

“would you care to explain to me why you still haven’t fixed your uniform, iura-san?”

“ah…not…really…” he seemed at a loss for words as he took another step back—but his back hit the window, and he whirled around in a panic, letting out a high-pitched scream as he realized he was cornered.

“too late!” you barked as you brought the shinai down on his head.

or, you would have had iura not taken the opened bottle of water on the table next to him and reflexively thrown it in your face.

the whole room was dead silent as you lowered the shinai slowly, eyes covered by your bangs while beads of water rolled down your face.

you could have heard a pin drop.

as the silence stretched on and no one moved, hori finally had the courage to speak up.

“a-ah, l/n-san, why don’t me and yuki help you dry off and get changed? there are towels in the nurses office, so—”

“it’s fine. i can take care of myself.” everyone flinched as you dropped the shinai to the floor with a loud clatter before turning and walking stiffly out the door.

as soon as you left the room, everyone rushed to iura frantically.

“you’re dead, dude! what were you thinking?!”

“jeez, how could you throw water all over a girl? how ungentlemanly can you be, iura?”

“i hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked when l/n-san gets back!”

but even with all his friends yelling at him, iura remained staring forward blankly, eyes unfocused. he was in a daze.

he hadn’t meant to throw water at you. it had simply been a base reflex. his survival instincts had taken over.

but, oh…

you had been wearing nothing but the thin standard button-up over your bra when he’d dumped that water on you.

and when that fabric got wet, it clung like crazy—not to mention the way it got all translucent.

and your arms had both been raised high, ready to swing down—

unintentional. it was unintentional, he reminded himself as he remembered the eyeful of your (thankfully-covered) boobs he had gotten.

his face reddened.

he’d never viewed you as a real girl before. as a female. all he ever saw was a bloodthirsty, rabid dog waiting to attack—someone to be afraid of. someone to run from.

but now…

he groaned, sliding down to his knees and clutching his head.

this couldn’t be happening.

part two

[dr1diot]

here are those who share the memories

pairing: zhongli x goddess!reader

synopsis: you disappear from morax’s life shortly after the archon war, after he gains the title of geo archon—the title you’d fought tooth and nail to help him obtain. centuries pass, and he hasn’t heard word of you since you left—he assumes you’re dead, faded from existence like so many other gods. until one day, one of his ever-loyal yaksha report a strange sighting near wangshu inn…a human who looks just like you.

aka the real reason behind zhongli’s retirement

morax didn’t think he’d ever shot to his feet as fast as when xiao had reported sightings of a human who looked eerily similar to you near wangshu inn.

he’d been spending his afternoon the same way he always did—keeping a watchful eye over his city from the clouds, hidden from the sight of the mortals who bustled down below.

as the sun had dipped ever closer towards the horizon, he’d landed on the highest peak of the stone forest sprouting from the ground northwest of liyue harbor, shifting back into the form of a man. it was as he sat down at the familiar table hewn of stone that xiao had appeared before him, brows furrowed as he reported his sightings.

morax had believed for a long time that his heart had turned to stone the day you left him. but now, at the sound of your name on his yaksha’s tongue, he felt it thud painfully in his chest for the first time in centuries.

he wasted no time in snapping his fingers and shifting into his human vessel—the one he’d named zhongli some decades ago, when he’d first ventured into the city cloaked under the guise of mortality—before commanding xiao to take him to where he’d seen you last.

so there he was, leaning against the railing on the highest floor of wangshu inn. furiously scanning the milling crowd enjoying the restaurant, power rippling out in waves gone unnoticed by the oblivious humans below as tendrils of his power threaded through them—weaving up, down, side to side as he explored each human, searching for even a drop of the power that had belonged to you. that had felt almost as familiar as his own, that had mingled with his each night spent together, each time you’d held each other after a long, bloody, soul-battering battle.

he searched. he searched and searched and searched and searched—

and he couldn’t find you.

he stayed there until the sun went down, until the lamps were lit, bright against the darkness—until the humans began retiring to their rooms, drunk and laughing and happy—

morax thought he’d never be happy again. not after his heart had risen so high, after he’d been filled to the brim with hope that he’d be able to hear your voice again—

ah, as grief weighed his eyelids down, dropped mountains on his shoulders, even his own mind turned against him.

he could have sworn he heard you. the silky, almost musical cadence of your voice—oh, how he missed your voice.

“morax.”

he laughed hoarsely, silently cursing celestia. the mind was truly an amazing thing—how familiar the trickery his grief-stricken psyche had conjured sounded to the way you’d called his name so many centuries ago—

oh, it was painful. his heart cracked.

but then he felt xiao bristling at his side. and then, heard footsteps from behind.

his body moved on its own, whipping around as a painfully familiar power washed over his senses—

and oh.

he fell to his knees.

because the one in front of him—the human—

it was you.

and damn if he didn’t feel those cracks in his heart mending.

you were smiling softly as you stood several paces from his trembling, crumpled form. “it’s been a long time, old friend.”

how did you sound so unfazed when he felt close to breaking out in sobs?

he hadn’t realized just how much he missed you all those centuries ruling liyue by himself.

“it’s…it’s you. you’re alive.” his voice was hoarse, disbelieving.

he vaguely noted his yaksha disappearing into the night to give them space.

“i am.” you nodded, taking a step forward—and your scent washed over him.

his eyes widened. it was so distinctly human—it was similar to how you’d smelled before—and yet, it had an edge of raw mortality to it—

“how…? why do you smell human?”

“ah, right. i never showed you my human vessel, did i? though it seems you’ve taken one too. i named it ‘huangxi.’ pretty name, no?” you toyed with a strand of your h/c hair, eyes flickering down to the form of the man before you.

he only stared up, eyes still wide. “why?”

you flicked the strand of hair behind you. “i didn’t want people to constantly be falling at my feet and begging for blessings—it’s easier to move around this way.”

“no. why did you leave me?”

ah.

your smile turned into something sad, eyes filling with understand at the hoarseness of his voice. “i’m sorry, morax. i simply…got tired. of being a god. i wanted to experience something new. something human. and you…you could never leave your post. your duties.” you laughed ruefully. “i wanted to travel the world. but you—you were tied down to liyue. you could not have travelled with me. you loved the city guizhong left you too much.”

morax shook his head as he stood on trembling legs. “i—i thought you were dead.” he takes a wobbly step forward. “i would have gone with you, had you asked. breaking my contract with liyue would have been better than thinking you were gone this whole time.” his voice broke, and he took another step.

“i’m sorry. i knew you would have tried to stop me had i told you of my plans. but that was wrong of me. i should’ve sent word to you that i was ok. forgive me. i didn’t know you cared so much.”

didn’t know that he cared? the words made him shake. how could you have not known? after everything the two of you had gone through? after those nights together? he could feel slivers of his godhood slipping through his mortal vessel, his eyes, arms, the tips of his hair beginning to glow.

“are you mad at me, morax?” you questioned softly, cocking your head to the side as he took another step—you were now close enough for him to touch if he simply raised his arms.

oh, how he wanted to be mad. how could you leave him? let him believe you were dead for so long?

and yet, as he tried to muster his anger, all he could feel was pure, heart-wrenching relief at having you standing before him.

“…no.” he raised both hands, brushing your face softly before cupping your cheek, your jaw. almost in disbelief at the warmth beneath his fingers, at the heat that leaked through his gloves.

you were here. in front of him. alive.

before you could react, his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, dragging you to his chest as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

and then he was crying.

his shoulders trembled as he took deep, choked breaths trying to wrest his sobs back to silence.

you tried to lift your arms to wrap around his broad back, yet the slight movement had him squeezing tighter.

“i’ll go with you. i’ll go with you, so don’t leave me again.” he kept his face buried, but this time didn’t react as you lifted your arms to pat his back gently. “i’ll be human for you. then we can travel together.”

you laugh. “oh, morax, morax, morax. you should not give up your godhood so lightly. what would guizhong say?”

“guizhong,” morax breathed as he finally lifted his face, eyes red and puffy, cheeks wet, “would tell me to follow my heart, for she was a kind god.”

his heart.

you stared into his amber eyes for a long time, smile fading as you beheld what was there.

“morax. we are only friends. what we shared after battles—that was for comfort. to forget the horrors of that day.” you began shaking your head. “do not be so quick to give up the archonhood that you fought so hard for.”

“that we fought so hard for.” he corrected, something sparking in his eyes. “and i’m tired too, y/n. it’s been six thousand years.” he smiled ruefully. “i think im ready to stop.”

you both stared at each other for a long time.

“if that is what you truly desire,” you said slowly, “then i will not stop you. but please, do not regret your decision later.”

he smiled, partly in relief, partly in assurance. “i will not. after all, how can i regret a decision made in love?”

in love.

the word threatened to bring you to your knees.

“you do not mean it, morax.” you warned softly.

“i do. i have had centuries to think about it. to realize what my feelings for you were before you left. now i am taking this chance, this miraculous chance, to tell you.” his voice was soft, and yet you heard the conviction there. and your heart squeezed.

“then i must confess something,” you whispered. “when i left you, yes, i was tired of being a god. but i was also afraid—i loved you too. but i was scared. scared of what that meant. so i ran like a coward. even knowing this, can you still say you love me?”

“i do not see why that is a problem.” he took one of your hands, pressing his lips to your palm. “y/n. i would love, more than anything, to spend the rest of my existence with you. as a god, as a human, i do not care—if you’ll have me. what say you?”

your eyes shutter shut, and you begin crying. “i do not deserve your love.”

“you deserve the world and more, dear y/n. in fact, it is i who does not deserve your love.”

you open your silver-lined eyes, beholding the love in his eyes. the gleaming affection. and begin crying harder. “yes,” you sobbed, bowing your head as tears roll down your cheeks. “i will have you, if you truly want that.”

morax looked ready to collapse in sheer relief as he closed his eyes, leaning in to press his brow to yours. “thank you.”

you only smiled tearfully, patting his back as he wrapped his arms around you once again. “i should be the one thanking you.”

“zhongli!”

“ah—there you are, huangxi.” zhongli patted the empty spot next to him, smiling at the sight of his lover waving in his direction as she approached the table. “please meet director hu. she’s my boss at the wangsheng funeral parlor.”

huangxi smiled brightly as she sat next to the immaculately-dressed man, extending a hand to the girl with pigtails. “it’s great to finally meet you, director hu. zhongli has told me much about you.”

“aiya, really? all good things, i hope!” the young funeral director exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at her newest employee.

“of course, he reassured, bowing his head.

“good, good. though i must apologize, ms huangxi—i frankly have no idea who you are, or your relation to my employee here. mr. zhongli is loathe to talk about his personal life at work.” she sighed in exasperation, massaging her temples with mock frustration.

“ah.” huangxi lifted an eyebrow at the man sitting besides her, who cleared his throat.

“do forgive me for not filling you in earlier, director. this is my wife, huangxi.”

“…what?!”

part two: huangxi

[dr1diot]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

zhongli

here are those who share the memories

huangxi

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ HORIMIYA MASTERLIST

iura shuu

catching feelings

catching feelings pt 2

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ NARUTO MASTERLIST

fic series: tobirama’s daughter—ahiko

out of time

waking up with him

hatake kakashi

when everyone else is gone

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ HAIKYUU MASTERLIST

kuroo tetsurou

i hate you, but…

[dr1diot]

ABOUT ME ⋆.ೃ࿔☁︎ ݁ ˖*༄

she/her | 17 | dr. idiot | call me ay | :P

i actually have no idea what im doing, so good luck everyone <3

⋆°·☁︎ masterlist / requests closed ☁︎ ·°⋆

MENTALLY AT: a skz concert

ACTUALLY: doing summer hw

LISTENING TO: s class by skz

WATCHING: apothecary diaries, the last kingdom

READING: pachinko

[dr1diot]

waking up with him

pairing: ahiko x setsuo

synopsis: waking up to a winter morning is great. especially when someone’s there to wake up with you.

she wakes up to a world of white.

ahiko sits up and pulls the covers off of her, eyes still bleary with sleep, only realizing after stumbling out of bed that the mesmerizing snow-blanketed landscape before her is on the other side of a window.

an unfamiliar window, she realizes, but the view outside is so enchanting it takes a second for her to realize that, one, this is not her room; and two, that she is completely naked.

she looks around, alarm bells going off in her head, wondering where in the world she is—

oh.

oh.

she freezes as her gaze lands on the figure on the other side of the bed.

naked and draped in white sheets, with the light streaming in from the window hitting him just right, setsuo looks absolutely divine.

ahiko doesn’t breathe. she wonders if she’s laid eyes on an angel.

“can’t get your eyes off of me, huh?”

the rasp in his voice startles her from her trance, and she quickly snatches a blanket from his big bed, covering herself as a furious blush creeps up her face.

the rasp in his voice is not from sleep—no, as she hears his usually melodious voice, she remembers exactly how feverishly he’d praised her last night, how loudly he’d expressed his pleasure—

it’s no surprise his voice is gone.

“oh, be quiet.” she crawls back into bed, the strain from last night finally catching up to her.

her thighs throb terribly, and even the pleasant ache in between her legs isn’t enough to offset the burning of strained muscle. as she settles next to him, his hand coming to instinctively run up and down her back, she starts feeling the little bruises and marks he’d left across her neck and breasts.

“you’re the worst.” her voice is just as ruined as his, she notices with a huff.

“that wasn’t what you were saying last night.”

“be quiet.” she mutters, finding no energy to argue further, and burrows her face into the crook of his neck. the chill of his skin, coupled with the lazy strokes of his hand against her back, threatens to lull her into a second sleep.

“not my fault you couldn’t keep up,” he teases softly, his voice still rasping with wear. his lips brush lightly against her temple, and the small gesture sends warmth blooming through her chest.

ahiko groans, muffling the sound into his shoulder. “keep up? i’m not the one who came so hard he almost passed out.”

setsuo chuckles, the deep vibrations reverberating against her cheek. “yet here you are, limping around the room like I broke you.”

“you’re insufferable,” she says, but her words lack venom, softened by the hand she lazily drapes over his bare chest. his heartbeat thuds steadily beneath her palm, grounding her in this quiet, stolen moment.

for a long stretch of time, neither of them speaks. the silence is broken only by the faint howl of the winter wind outside, and the soft rustle of sheets as they shift closer. it’s a peaceful quiet, one that neither is eager to disturb.

but eventually, ahiko speaks, her voice quieter now. “it’s beautiful outside.”

setsuo’s hand pauses mid-stroke, and his gaze shifts to the window. “yeah.” he smiles, and ahiko can’t help but feel like he’s not talking about the snow as he continues.

“it’s the most beautiful thing in the whole world.”

[dr1diot]

character study—ahiko senju

prompt—arranged marriage

“how could you hide this from me?”

her voice is terribly, terribly cold as she smacks her hands down on the second hokage’s desk, leaning forward until they’re eye-to-eye.

a long, drawn-out sigh from the desk’s owner has her drawing back and crossing her arms, waiting for a response with a look in her eyes that promises violence.

“haruto told you, didn’t he?” tobirama asks, steering clear of her first question entirely.

a blaze of molten anger erupts in her eyes, and the second hokage looks away, bracing himself for her anger, her hatred, the vitriol surely about to spew from her mouth for even considering—

“why haven’t you said yes yet?”

it takes a moment for the words to register in his head.

“what?” his voice comes out smaller than he would have liked.

“why—why are you even deliberating? you should have said yes the moment you received the offer from the raikage—” her words come out in a jumbled, frantic mess as she begins pacing back in forth across his office. “we could end this war now, father! why do you hesitate? don’t tell me you’ve started to actually care about me after everything that’s happened.” the last question comes with a mocking sneer as she realizes that he is, indeed, worried about her.

“ahiko…i…i cannot lose you again. they will destroy you in ways you cannot imagine—”

“oh that’s rich coming from the man who destroyed me first.”

he doesn’t flinch, but his eyes reveal the way the accusation makes his heart break. “i don’t understand. i thought you’d be happy i didn’t immediately accept—” again, he is interrupted.

“it’s not about me anymore, father! it’s about the village! the nation! you could put a stop to this war right now!”

“at the expense of my daughter.”

“which is no expense at all, when you look at the big picture.”

he hesitates.

“you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgement, father. where’s the man that slit my mother’s throat in front of me to keep the village safe? who wiped my memories and broke apart my family to protect the village? that is the man we need right now.” ahiko’s voice drops to almost a whisper at the end. “you’ve done it before.” she plants a kunai into his desk. “come on. it’s the same thing as mom. you did it so easily back then—it’s the same thing, but your hands don’t have to be dirtied with blood—only ink. just write the response and ship it off.”

“ahiko.” his voice is quiet, but she’s not having any of it.

“come on!” she roars suddenly, ripping the kunai from the wood and slamming it down in front of him. “just fucking do it! why can’t you see that this is the only way?! can’t you see we are losing this war?! you are not in a position where you can say no to an offer for peace!”

“do not tell me what i can and cannot do.” he snaps, red eyes blazing. “i am still your hokage.”

“then act like it!” she screams, her death-grip on the edge of the desk causing it to splinter. “you have put this village over everything—your family, your friends, yourself—why can’t you do it now?”

“because,” he grinds out, teeth gritting against each other as he shoots to his feet, hands curled into fists and trembling. “this is not a price i can pay! you are not a price i can pay! i care about you—” he cuts himself off, a low growl of frustration rumbling through his throat. ahiko can hear what he meant to say, though—i love you.

“father.” tobirama looks up, more weary then she’s ever seen him before. “if you truly care about me—truly love me—then please, stop this war. everyone i love—” including him, but she will never admit that. “—lives behind these walls; is being sent out to the battlefield every day. with this agreement, i can keep them all safe. keep all of you safe. please. if you won’t do it for the village, do it for me.”

“you cannot ask this of me.” his voice cracks.

“i can, and i am. please. must i get on my knees and beg?”

“they only want you for the off chance that they might gain wood style, which will never happen—it was less of a kekkei genkai and more of a freak mutation—they will never gain it, but they will never stop trying. do you know what that means? they will make you bear child after child after child, until the day you die. are you truly willing to subject yourself to that?”

“yes.” there is no hesitation in her response. “i will bear as many children for them as they want, if it means keeping my loved ones safe.”

she watches as her father buries his head in his hands, breath shaky as he inhales deeply.

she knows she’s asking the impossible of him. she can’t imagine what he must be feeling—she, for one, could never sacrifice her own child for this village.

but him. he is stronger than her. he can do this.

she knows he can.

he has to.

“alright.” he says, sitting up and looking her straight in the eye. “alright. i will send word to the raikage that i have accepted his proposal of marriage.” his voice is dead, all emotions killed to make this decision.

ahiko only bows her head, but as he sweeps past her to exit the room, she swears she catches a tear rolling down his cheek.

[dr1diot]

character study—ahiko senju

prompt—kiss

on some deeper level, she always knew she was destined to clash with this man—in all possible senses of the word.

without fail, every time she laid eyes on him her blood would boil in her veins and her mind would crowd with petty insults and the clang of alarm bells, whereas with anyone else that cool, unbreakable facade would never falter.

every time they exchanged words, something deep inside her itched terribly to get him to just shut up; to wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. by any means necessary. punch him, her brain screamed. kick him. slap him. throttle him.

kiss him.

that last thought occurred more than she liked when they were arguing.

she tried unbelievably hard to brush it off as her rampant teenage hormones, but it was hard to when all she could think about while watching him spit petty insults were his lips.

when all she could think about while glaring up at him were his mesmerizing stormy eyes.

when all she could think about as she balled her hands up to keep from strangling him was how his snowy locks would feel tangled in her fingers.

when all she could think about while gripping his collar and threatening to beat the shit out of him was how easy it would be to pull him just a little closer, tilt her head back just a little bit—

she stopped herself from imagining any further, recognizing the dangerous territory she was heading into.

territory she would not be able to escape from.

so she pushed him away, turning her head in feigned disgust, concealing the blush that had crept up her face.

but unfortunately for her, setsuo yuki was no fool. he caught her chin between his fingers and tilted her face back towards him, smirking at her flushed cheeks.

“oh my, what have we here? has little miss senju taken a fancy to me?”

“in your dreams.” she snarled, reaching to slap his hand away, but he was already moving before she could do anything.

he’d cupped one of his big hands behind her neck, the other finding purchase in her hair.

close.

he was too close.

ahiko couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not.

“you think i don’t see you staring at my lips every chance you get? you make it quite obvious what you desire from me, senju.” he whispered tauntingly, breath fanning her face. his stormy gray eyes were barely an inch from her crimson ones, his lips entirely too close—

“i do not stare, you arrogant—”

her heart stopped as he silenced her with a rough kiss, eyes open all the while—perhaps to relish the way her own widen, the way the blush darkened and spread to her ears.

is this how i die? she wondered, but then she could breathe again and she could think properly—and…didn’t shove him away, like she’d expected.

she returned the kiss, rougher than he’d anticipated. he jerked in surprise as she bit his lower lip, but grinned into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

yes, she always knew she was destined to clash with this man. always.

she just never anticipated it would be with her lips, her teeth, her tongue.

a/n

so like i’m trying to get better at writing… this is just a character study of one of my ocs (ft. another oc)

lowkey i dont like writing in past tense idk why.

does anyone have any advice on how to improve flow, write better dialogue, improve characterization, etc?

i would rly appreciate any tips!

tyyy!

[dr1diot]

Konohagakure Military Forces Organization

It took a while but it’s finally done.

HOKAGE

The highest authority of Konohagakure, the face of the Fire Country’s military forces and has the duty to lead, administer and protect Konoha and to ensure the maximum prosperity of the village.

KONOHA COUNCIL

The Konoha Council, made up of the village’s top officials and people the Hokage trusts. Their duty is to assist the Hokage in governing Konoha and to offer their opinion on decisions that must be made with the greatest benefit to Konoha in mind.

In addition, in case the Hokage is unable to choose his successor, the council is responsible for finding eligible candidates for the position.

Keep reading

[dr1diot]

Guys help I think I’m a lil obsessed with this zombie boi right here- um-