#i rise from my grave once again to deliver you stupid shit from my mind

[t4tezlux]

An asexual loporrit, call that Nofuckingway

[demwhore]

Ares | L.JN

pairing┃lee jeno x female reader genre | stalker fic, thriller, horror, angst warnings | this is a problematic fic! please read at your own risk! there is no way jeno is like this in real life, this fic is purely fictional and shouldn’t be romanticized in any way, please report any activities of stalking!! mature scenes, profanities, murder, graphic violence, manipulation, coercion, borderline obsession !! Please, Jeno is not like this in real life, this is just a work of fiction !! word count | 2,431k synopsis | He’s not beautiful like how people see him. He’s wicked.  a/n | this is actually my very first planned fic and @neo-cult-ure​ knows about this haha love you!! and my love, @jungcity, for fixing my crap grammar xD taglist | @milkinqjungs, @nanasarea, @lovestrucked-again, @neoyoungho, @bumblebeenct, @haechaaaaaaanssi, @bedraggledsijeuni, @nakamotonikkoru muse | killing me softy, the manhwa :: killing stalking, a picture of jeno glaring :: every breath you take ( listen for maximum experience )

Truly an ace of all fools.

Ares, the god of war. As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals.

Name it, Jeno knows every possible if not, unique ways to kill. He prefers the crowbar as it’s efficient and easy enough to send a person to their graves. For his very own pleasure. It fuels him especially when he sees those eyes that were once full of life drown down to darkness of death.

Lee Jeno, is known as one of the notorious lads at school. He never fails to leave an astonished look to every person he has passed by at school. People are stunned whenever he walks down the hallway with his school shirt unbuttoned and crumpled. His overall appearance is unruly with the noticeable scars that lingered on his face like leeches. His disheveled jet black hair. Eyes that bore nothing but darkness. Chains dangling from each of his ears. His aura that is explainable and unassailable that could even strike the thunderbolt of the great god Zeus.

Jeno is handsome. He looks like bad news. Wild.

He wielded an enormous influence among girls. Some swoon at the mere sight of him; others even resorted to some chase yet ended up a crying mess. Boys even fall for his charms, but one sharp glance is enough to wave them off like flies.

However, you on the other hand are not fazed by him nor his silhouette. Which made him to be drained by a pure soul like you.

Lee Jeno is so private and closed like an abandoned establishment and that could be the sole reason why people want to pry into his life. He had everyone controlled on the palm of his hand but he can’t seem to play with you like he initially plans to.

Lee Jeno has the patience of a boar. He shows signs of violence that it’s alarming. But people seem to be in love at his bad boy facade, no one dares to report him.

He is a living contradiction. Lee Jeno is a ride, a deadly one.

He comes to school with his boisterous friends that look exactly like how he presents himself. You can always hear their uproarious banters about their lives, endless wolf-whistling. They are the group of boys you wouldn’t want to mess with. Especially the mysterious Lee Jeno.

You made a promise to get the shit out of the tracks that had traces of the boisterous boy that is Lee Jeno.

Not just the boys that have brought out the never ending fiasco circulating around your highschool. There have been a high number of mysterious disappearances of students that you may have never heard of or slightly familiar to you that you cannot recall. Their skulls are cracked open with a brute force or a bullet to the head. Some are strangled, some are mutilated, and what makes it terrifying is that most of the victims are leading down to you.

You can still remember how Kang Hana spent her afternoon with you in the library for a philosophy project. You admit it yourself that Hana isn’t the preferable company. She’s too nosy, noisy and quite violent towards you as she keeps on hitting you on the arm whenever you spill something stupid. Nevertheless, you held no grudge towards the girl. And you were really stunned at the news of her sudden death.

Oh, you didn’t know someone was watching from the windows of the library outside. Irritability bubbles inside his body like a brook. He allows no one to go near you, let alone to hit you like a ragged doll. He always had a thing for you, he didn’t know when it started but by the way you looked at him like you are almost something to be disregarded. He is drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

It is always in Jeno’s system. His mind is a bully, gushing him to do things that would make him thrilled, something that could awaken his fantasies.

He wants to kill. And he did.

He stood in all his glory, wearing his uninterested look while scrutinizing the other students walking along the hall. There at the lockers he spots Kang Hana awkwardly fumbling with the entangled bag straps.

His dark eyes bore into Hana’s figure. Eyeing her from head to toe. At this moment he is thinking of what he can possibly do with those limbs. Break it? Smash it? Mutilate it like how they do in the slaughterhouse? Jeno approaches her figure, his switchblade ready in his windbreaker’s pockets.

He breaths, trying to muster his oh-so-charming smile. “Hey.”

Hana raises up her gaze and she is surprised, that the notorious Lee Jeno is approaching her. Only if she knew his real intentions. “Oh my god. Hey.”

Jeno is charming. Quite egocentric. It doesn’t take him long to persuade someone to sleep with him or to go out on a date with him. If there is something you should be afraid about Jeno, it is his ability to deceive people without them knowing his real motives. He has a calm demeanor but sometimes his arrogance fuels him to be so wild-driven.

He leads Hana to the abandoned establishment at the rundown part of the town. He made sure to give her a signal to meet him outside where no witnesses could see them. It’s always a step when considering crime, get rid of witnesses.

At this moment, Hana starts to get excited because she has foreseen what could happen. For her it’s sex. For him, it’s blood. Jeno draws his switchblade near her carotid artery. She widens her eyes but laughter resonates in the eerie place.

She purrs. “I am a kinky person but I can try knife play.”

Jeno doesn’t play. He draws the knife deeper to her neck until she realizes he is not joking at all. Kang Hana’s heart made a beeline for her throat and tried to make a flee for her life but Jeno had his strong hand gripping her hair.

She struggles but after every move she dares, the knife further penetrates her neck. Beads of sweat are dropping down to her cheeks. A hot sticky liquid from where the knife is trickling down her neck, dampening her collarbones down to her bra. She cries loud. “What do you want?!”

Jeno smirks. He misses the familiar scent of blood flooding in his nostrils. “Your life.”

Her eyes widened in pure horror as the charming prince transformed quickly as a ruthless psychopath in just the blink of her eye. Hana tries to fight against his hold once again but Jeno wants to finish off and not to take care of a wailing woman.

He repeatedly lash out the knife through her neck. The impact of his pounds set out her blood gushing out, splashing his pale cheeks. His right hand is dripping with her hot blood. Jeno’s chest rises as his breathing became ragged but overall he felt so alive and content. He stares at Hana’s figure sprawled on the floor bathing with the pool of her own blood. Jeno felt so driven with just crimson clouding his vision. He runs his tongue on the rows of his pearly teeth, a sinister smile tugging the corners of his lips. He did it for you.

The following days have been hell for you. No, you weren’t killed but you faced a frightening number of police interrogations for the victims were always drawing down to you. Like Hana, you were the last person she was with before her neck was slashed out like a cow in the slaughterhouse. The pulse of a blue and red strobe from the police mace being parked in the circular driveway. You stare at the officer's badge, his holstered Glock. The night air settles the eerie night, still, gauzy full of humidity.

The interview lasts about a good hour but you are deemed innocent as Hana’s whereabouts where the crime took place didn’t match your activity. Her clothes are missing on the spot but the investigators found it drenched in this liquid they believed was an oxygen producing detergent. Since the laboratory personnel couldn’t get any fingerprints from her body, it has been declared useless for the crime.

It has been weeks since you find yourself able to breathe again but it didn’t last long when you were bombarded with unknown and creepy messages that you couldn’t withstand at all.

I know you. From everything you do, I know it all.

You belong to me, your full name.

I find it romantic to see how excited you look whenever I send these messages. Shall I start sending my pictures as well? Or the throne I made for you?

From morning you go to your mother’s flower shop to gather primrose to deliver to your grandfather that lives in the twenty second street downtown.

Your favorite thing to do is to draw, my sweet. I am right, am I? I’m always right.

I saw you talk to that small loser from class D. Now don’t ever talk to him again or you will see his head delivered right at your doorstep. I love you and I’m being the nice guy here.

Do you perhaps like the idea of your friend's limbs personally delivered to you? Your pick.

I am always watching you, your name.

Oh, you had a museum date with your friends? Don’t go, I am at your grandmother’s restaurant, she serves the ultimate broth soup. Too bad I can stop her from serving these delicacies.

I know deep down, you love me too. Don’t you ever try to date behind my back without telling me. I did kill for you.

Your parents aren’t home. Do you want me to visit?

So much love for you. Your long secret admirer :)

I love you. I will kill for you.

He isn’t joking. He knows everything about you. All the meticulous details no one knows but your family. Whenever you receive a message from him, your heart would pound against your rib cage. It terrifies you to the core that he exactly knows the precise details of your whereabouts.

You immediately reported this matter to the police, to your parents but it didn’t settle the problem. The number isn’t traceable. They keep on insisting that the number used is from an unregistered sim. You fear for your life, your personal space, everything.

You weren’t just experiencing the never ending terror of your stalker’s messages. But some of your things are now starting to disappear, from your bracelets, your baby pictures now, now, your white lacy underwear.

You are blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes that follows every movement as you exit the school grounds. He looks down on his hand, gripping his favorite underwear of you. He had a picture when you wore the garment, and it was his favorite among all.

He makes his way to his heavily tinted car, a smile never leaving Jeno's face as he clutches the garment tightly on his hands. His soulless eyes stared back at him the moment he stared at the rear view mirror. And drives to the nearest convenience store.

He keeps on fantasizing about you. The way your name rolls out of his tongue while jerking out never fails to send himself to ecstasy. He can’t wait to meet you, but one thing he is sure of, he will be watching you tonight.

Jeno is always a step ahead of his plans. He is meticulous and calculative. His plans never backfire for he knew what methods to use. For the days he has been killing he already knows how to get rid of evidence that could lead to him. The boy’s got a sharp tongue as well, a serpent’s, he uses lies to cover up the real Lee Jeno that hides behind the charming facade he puts front.

He wore black. Black that is a mystery. Eerie. He wears a black bucket hat that covers his beautiful features that compliments his youth. Despite the dusk ebbing its way, his moles are always as alive as the constellation. He secures his mask tighter on both ears, as appealing as it sounds, he cannot show his face to you, just not yet. He had a thing to do, he had something to accomplish.

“Just in time” he breathed into the shadows. His eyes follow your figure marching down the dim lit streets. A smirk paints his lips as you still try to swat everything and thinking to yourself everything is still normal. But no, not until he is dead. He could have easily needle out your background from Jaemin but you were his and it gives him satisfaction whenever he discovers something about you. Things that aren’t open for others but just for him.

He immediately hid behind a large tree, once you entered your home. He makes sure to secure a great and measurable distance from him to you, not so far yet so near. He clenches his fist, the idea of watching you undress from your windows sends him a big wave of pleasure.

He begins to scramble up trying to get a hold of the strongest branch his forearm could manage. Some twigs tried to interrupt him midway but nothing can stop a hungry predator from lurking on his prey. He finds the perfect spot just parallel to your window.

“Fuck” he hiss as he felt his phone vibrate from his pocket. “What it is now Lee fucking Donghyuck?”

“Lover boy, I forgot to place your camera in your bag, bye.”

The camera is not his top most concern. He has his phone that is full of you.

You were humming quietly. He follows your hands, removing your school blouse that left the boy’s mouth agape. His cock immediately hardens at the sight, and he cannot risk himself to jerk while on the tree. He scrambles immediately, carelessly fishing out for his phone to take a picture of you naked.

Lee Jeno is always not satisfied with the bare minimum. He records you, doing your private thing in your room. He is biting hard on his lips, his erection sticking out painfully against his pants. He has to endure much longer till you have finished your routine applying lotion to your shiny long legs. Those legs that he can’t wait to touch.

Jeno left the place shortly. He’s astounded. You drive him wild and wild he is. You fuel the monster more.

[llodblinky]

Chapter 6:

After touching down on the landing pad. Cirina and Perimu head swiftly to the Rogue’s Guild hideout. Along the way Jacke finds them and tells them to hurry, urgent news awaits them. Once they’re settled in, Jacke begins.

“Well shit is about to hit the fan soon, from what we’ve heard Maelstrom command has received an anonymous letter stating that the ‘true leaders will rise from the remains of Limsa and create a truly free sea.’”

Everyone is quiet, aware of the means to accomplish this. They all look around the room, Jacke breaks the silence.

“Alright, I’m sure Maelstrom and the Yellow Jackets have it covered, but just in case we’re gonna have eyes and ears all around and be ready to help stop. This is our home after all.”

Everyone cheers and claps. Cirina stands up, and begins to speak.

“I can take the sector near the smithys’ guilds. Nearby open area and not a bad place to set up to sink a large portion of Limsa.”

Jacke nods in agreement, Perimu raises his hand to join Cirina on watch there. V’kebbe volunteers to take a 3 man team to watch around the Aetheryte. Jacke says he’ll keep an eye near the aft castle. Once the teams are set and everyone picks a sector they all part and go on lookout for the renegade pirates.

All set, the rogues lie in wait for this group to reveal themselves.

Cirina is chatting with Perimu when they notice a couple of people lugging a large chest in the alleys opposite of their position.

"Perimu, look." Cirina slyly moves her eyes towards the men to signal her compatriot of their movements. He glances and nods in affirmation, the two move gradually, tailing the suspicious group. They are lead to an alley that leads to the plaza, Maelstrom HQ, and the docks. A staging area perhaps?

After a few moments, others appear and share details of the plan. It is revealed that the large chest is indeed the bomb, and they’re planning on leveling Limsa and throwing the city into chaos. The Black Sarcophagus from a month ago is the bomb!? Back when she, X, and Llod fought those men. It's them again, The Reformists. She thinks to herself.

From behind, three men discover them. Outnumbered if the rest are to surround them they deploy smoke bombs and retreat so they can inform Jacke. The duo barely escape their clutches..

After rendezvousing with Jacke, he directs Cirina to go get V'kebbe and the others. Perimu to observe the Aftcastle area and stay hidden.

“We'll need everyone if we're to come out on top. Everyone know their roles?"

They nod and move in the defense of Limsa.

After arriving at V'kebbe's post Cirina realizes she is nowhere in sight. Nor the team she had brought with her. A commotion takes Cirina's notice and she rushes toward it, the markets. She wonders if V'kebbe's team had made a move. Upon arriving, Cirina sees some of The Reformists holding a couple hostage, and making a rather large commotion of it at that.

Could this be a diversion for their boss and the rest?

As she finishes her thought, two rogues drop from above and seperate the hostages from their captors.

"Oi, what're you stupid blokes doin? Git em!"

At the command, the two are surrounded, but the odds are again turned as V'kebbe and the other two of her team attack from behind, neutralizing a few of the goons.

"Thank goodness." Cirina remarks to herself.

The two sides break out into a scuffle, the civilians start to move away from the scene and the Yellow Jackets move in.

"Rogues!? What's goin on ere?"

"Long story short, these guys are with The Reformists, and are planning on blowing Limsa up. So, lend a girl a hand would ye?" V'kebbe responds.

Finally noticing Cirina, V'kebbe shouts toward her.

"Oi fledgling, find Jacke and tell em that they're aiming for the Aftcastle, got it!?" V’kebbe yells.

Cirina nods and goes to run, but is met with a few more of the Reformist goons. They swing at her, but she is able to gracefully avoid them while jumping overhead and landing behind them. With no time to lose she opts to keep running to find Jacke with no time to lose. Luckily she isn't followed as more Yellow Jackets arrive on the scene.

Once she catches up to Jacke, who is now surrounded by three more goons, she takes one out swiftly and relays the news to Jacke.

"Aftcastle eh? Figured as much. Perimu should still be in the area. Be a dear and back him up alright? I can handle these two with both me arms tied." Jacke jests.

"Ok Jacke, best of luck." She says.

“Ah who needs luck when you make your own?” Jacke responds

Cirina disengages and rushes toward the Aftcastle. Both of the goons lunge for Jacke, but he simply sidesteps them and gives them both a swift kick to their asses.

"Really, that's the best you lot got?" He snickers. “Well at least you’ll be a decent challenge.”

After arriving, Cirina takes cover, scanning the area for Perimu. She spots him and V’kebbe attempting to fight The Reformists and their leader Aisibhir who are setting up the Black Sarcophagus. They are unfortunately outmatched in number and pushed back. Aisibhir laughs and snorts as he knows that nothing can stop them from realizing their goal of a ‘free’ Limsa for pirates.

“Pathetic whelps, you can’t stop us from freeing the masses of Limsa, and bringing back the days where pirates could do as they please. No more restriction or damnation from Merlwyb and her Maelstrom nancies!” Aisibhir lectures.

As he gloats, Cirina’s gaze is taken away from the sun in her eyes. A reflection from glass being used by Jacke to get her attention. He gestures to the fellow rogues behind both him and her, ready to take down The Reformists. In one hand motion, they move in to confront this threat to Limsa’s safety.

“You two ok?” Jacke asks V’kebbe and Perimu.

“Aye boss, we ain’t hurtin nothin bad.” V’kebbe assures.

“And look here, your goals and ideals end here. You’re a threat to the stability of life and here and I’m sick of lookin at yer ugly mug on top of things.” Jacke remarks.

Aisibhir’s smile turns into a scowl, and he waves his hand.

“Get them you maggots! Tear them apart!” He roars.

The Rogues engage with The Reformists over the fate of Limsa, both sides give and take, neither willing to give. The clashing of their ideals and ways of life. Jacke is locked in intense combat with Aisibhir, a slight miscalculation would mean the end for either as they ferociously battle. V’kebbe and Perimu are holding their own despite their wounds, whilst the greener rogues are fighting their best but it isn’t going to be enough. Cirina aids the ones she can, suddenly a constant beeping noise is heard coming from the aftcastle.

“Yarharhar, that’s it mateys, The Black Sarcophagus is now armed! Soon, soon we shall open Limsa’s eyes!” He Aisibhir brags while swinging his axe at Jacke.

“Gods dammit, at this rate it’ll go off before the fighting is over. Cirina! Break off and disarm that bomb, we’ll handle the rest.” Jacke commands.

Cirina takes a swift look towards Jacke and the others and heads off, breaking through the Reformist’s line sprinting past them for the detonators.

Three. I can hear three beeps distinctly. So there’s three detonators. Gotta find them all and break them good.

She approaches the first one and scuffles with its two guards, the archer misses gravely and Cirina knocks her out with no issues. The swordsman lunges for her as her back is turned, but she spins around and parries as she does. Driving her daggers into his feet, then swiftly standing up as her head finds his face knocking him out cold as well. Retrieving her weapons she continues on.

The second one is better guarded with two archers, a swordsman and an axeman. The man with the axe charges her first, his first mistake, as he misses. Cirina uses his own weapon as a jumping point towards the wall, pushes off the wall toward him again and swiftly spin kicks him in the back of the head. He’s out cold, now only three left, she throws a smoke bomb at the archers to keep them occupied while she handles the swordsman. He takes two swings, advancing as he does and positions her between him and the wall. Delivering a swift kick to her abdomen, she is sent into the wall and reels from the pain.

Getting back to her feet, Cirina is able to dispatch him with ease afterwards, but a narrow miss from an arrow brings her attention back to the two archers. They proceed to unleash a volley aimed at her but her quick footwork allows her to dance around the barrage. She takes one down, but is knocked by an arrow from the other, proceeding to dispatch him as well. The wound is mild on her left arm and she continues to the last device, time waning.

She reaches the last one with little time to spare, guarded by two swordsmen. Not wanting to waste time she deploys another smoke bomb and runs past them. The two men taking a swing at the shadow wind up bonking each other on their helmets and knocking each other out. She disables the last device with less than a second left on the clock. Cirina races back to the main battle the rogues and yellowjackets are having with Aisibhir’s crew.

Once she reaches the battleground, she is relieved to see it is over. The Yellowjackets taking him and his crew to prison. She strolls over to her mates clutching her wound, one of the captured pirates attempting to mock her. She ignores him, paying him no mind whatsoever which infuriates him. He gets out of his binds to her surprise, blindsiding her, and pulling a hidden dagger slices at her abdomen. It cuts deep, and an unfamiliar surge of energy engulfs her, moving for her. As she draws her own dagger and slices the cur clean through his neck, killing him. Everyone turns to see the commotion. The other rogues are stunned but before they can say anything Cirina collapses from blood loss the purple and red aura dissipating. Jacke and Perimu rush her to any nearby conjurers for fear of her bleeding out.

Cirina...Kharlau…..release me from my chains…..Cirina...Kharlau...release me…

...Who are you…?

I am you…..and you are me…

I...k-killed someone today...was that..because of you!?

We...are one….I am naught...but your own volition….

What!?

You were hurt...weak….I gave you strength…..release me...and it shall be yours...forevermore….

N-no! I don’t want strength like that. It’s twisted....horrendous!!

Tis but arrogance...in time…..you and I...shall truly...become whole...

[imagethat]

Spar | Vergil x Reader

Reader gets trapped with Dante and Vergil in hell at the end of DMC5, plot twist. They're actually a highly trained assassin from a coven Dante had dismantled. Most people were brainwashed beyond saving but he aaw something within the reader and took them under his wing. More drabble esc writing^^

You couldn't believe you had so foolishly gotten yourself trapped in hell with these two. Sat away from their sparring ring with your eyes closed, you listened to their annoying banter. Dante you had known for a great deal of time, he was your boss after all. While his twin, Vergil, was new to you. You didn't know what to make of him yet. He was quiet and tactical, both qualities you appreciated greatly when compared to his brothers dull witted humor. "Where did you learn to count?" Vergil demanded of his brother as Dante laughed and fell to the ground. "Same place as you brother. I need a break though." He sighed out, clearly out of breath. Vergil was still on his feet and you could hear him turn to you. "Up." He demanded, a command which you did not heed. You simply opened your eyes and looked in his direction. Vergil in turn pointed his blade at you and made a soft up motion. His gaze piercing you. "Do you truly wish to be beaten a third time?" You mused. Unbeknownst to Vergil, you had defeated him as Urizen but he had fled before you could seal the deal. And then again as V when you had hunted him down wanting answers. "She has a point." Dante added, sprawled out on the ground like a starfish. "I do not recall these battles, and I am curious of your skills. Please do refresh my memory." Vergil said. You finally rose from your spot, even your most basic of movements graceful and swift. "I don't bother with sparring matches. It's against my code of conduct." You replied and Dante let out a groan. "You never sparred for practice?" Vergil questioned simply because it was clear you learned from somewhere. Which he was right partially, but the coven that which raised you was ruthless. Training only the most cunning of soldiers. Losing a spar meant losing your life. And it was by that code of conduct you still lived by. Only partaking in battles you would finish. Ashamed you had so clumsily failed to kill Urizen and V. Part of you, a part you hated, was glad you failed both times though. "You do not want this fight." You breathed out as a warning. You did not know if you could control your impulses. You could feel the way your muscles twitched and how your mind already raced through every possibility of how this battle could happen. You wouldn't allow yourself to fail again much less you dishonor your own lifeblood. Vergil wasn't one to back down though, both of you carrying the same needlessly prominent pride on your shoulders. He simply got into his battle stance. It was all the invite you needed. Your movements were balanced, incisions precise, and senses heightened in the battle. Vergil was impressed with your keen ability to map out his attacks. He could tell you watched him as he fought with Dante and familiarized yourself with his battle tactics. Dante sat on the sidelines still, making petty comments whenever one of you would get a hit off on each other. It annoyed both of you greatly, adding fuel to the already massively burning fire. But your temper was controlled and had been tested through many years spent in that coven. This battle showed no signs of letting up. "Told you Y/N was one of my finest." Dante whistled. A well timed parry from you was enough to finish the battle as Vergil was forced down onto one knee. You became ensnared with the temptation to finish the battle, and as you raised your sword up your eyes bore into Vergils. Something in you hesitated despite the heat in your heart. The tempered mentality the coven had forced onto your shoulders becoming fuzzy. Dante had well enough been able to tell where the battle was heading and drew a pistol before you could swing the sword down. He fired at your blade twice causing it to knock out of your hands. You surprisingly didn't lose your balance though and stood there in shook while your chest heavily rose and fell. You staggered back and placed a hand on your head, muttering sorry softly before falling to the ground. Your past was stronger than you could fight but somehow you can't bring yourself to cut down your foe… It was possible you already thought of him as a friend in the way you did Dante. That thought irked you, reminding you of how soft you had become since joining Devil May Cry. It made you feel weak. Part of you suddenly got swept into the past, fear setting in that you'd be punished for such an inexcusable failure to win the battle. Dante could tell you needed a moment and went to go grab your blade. He knelt down beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" He questioned, a small amount of concern written on his face. Your mind snapped back to reality and you nodded gently. After that he handed you your blade back softly, hand lingering on yours for a moment. Trying to remind you that you were no longer leading the life you once were. Vergil was already on his feet again and seemed unbothered outwardly by what had just occurred. "Zero to one." He acknowledged, much to your surprise. Vergil, being bountifully overconfident was unaware of your strength. But even more unaware of your ability to adapt and predict. Internally he brushed this spar off, pretending the loss was simply because he underestimated you. Despite that, he found it in himself to admire your tenacity. Before Vergil could question you on where you were trained sludge rose in packs around you. Demons crawling forth from the ground. Dante motioned for you to wait. "We'll take care of this." He reaffirmed, leaving you to recover from your spinning thoughts as the two Sons of Sparda took care of the demons. After the demons had been dealt with, the three of you made a makeshift fire. You internally scoffed at your boss and the fact that he was tired. Attributing his somewhat low stamina, at least compared to yours and Vergils, to his poor choice of time management before the Quipoth had broken Red Grave. He never left the house unless he had to, fed himself poorly, and didn't train. But you wouldn't be so bashful of him out loud since you knew such judgmental thoughts came from a place of insecurity deep within yourself. After Dante was asleep you decided to apologize to Vergil. "I…" You hesitated for a moment, feeling as though an apology might be taken as weakness or not cared for from the stern man who sat beside you. "I'm sorry about earlier. I get caught up in fighting to easily… I understand if you don't want to spar with me again." You admitted. Vergil chuckled and completely took you off guard. "I should have not underestimated you. I applaud you for your dexterity." He said before giving you somewhat of a smirky smile. "I look forward to sparring with you again." He added. You took this as him being genuine albeit a bit awkward since both of you didn't know how to communicate well. Letting out a sigh of relief as you nodded in agreement. "As do I, though I admit I had an upperhand." You said. It was true you were at a slight advantage. After all, Vergil couldn't recall ever fighting you, but you knew how he battled from both his human and demon side. You got to watch him spare Dante as well. "All the more reason to spar again." He replied, seeing you as a challenge. A way to test and further strengthen his power. You nodded in agreement, thinking the same of him. "I do hope you allow me to prove I'm more than just an opponent." He admitted honestly and you had to take a moment to process it. Vergil would never be the type to be incredibly forward with his emotions. So you took this to heart. "Possibly." Was all you could respond with, still having walls of your own built. He seemed satisfied with that answer though. The two of you spent the next few hours resting before Dante woke up. "Think pizza could be delivered down here?" He teased and you rolled your eyes while muttering stupid. Before he could make some stupid quip back like 'didn't catch that' though, you were on your feet. "Rise." You instructed and he laughed. "Oh ho ho, someone's serious. You and Vergil make a little pact while I was out?" He asked, obliging to your somewhat demanding attitude. "No more a pact than it is an obligation to hold a higher score than Vergil." You commented, sorely behind since Vergil and Dante had been sparring for so long. If you were honest though, you just wanted to give Vergil a chance to also learn your attack patterns so next time you sparred you'd both start on an even playing field. It would make the victory sweeter knowing your win didn't come from one sides lack of knowledge. Your brain so trained to improve upon itself that you couldn't even acknowledge the fact that beating Vergil was an achievement. Through your next matches with Dante, Vergil's eyes followed you. But Dante could tell they lingered on you sometimes for too long. At one point he noticed how intense Vergil's stare was and gave his brother a shit eating grin. It cost him a good kick to the stomach, but it was worth it in Dante's eyes. He'd never let his brother live that kind of look down. 

[xxlovendreamsxx]

yours, forevermore [5]

A/N: guess what @kuriquinn, this is still dedicated to you! ily girlie. 😘

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Sasuke visits Konoha’s burial grounds before the sun has even begun to rise that morning, tired of the constant tossing and turning in the bed of the Hokage suite. There had been no benefit to staying any longer, no rest or peace of mind to be found—so if sleep would not come, he was better off putting what time he had to good use.

(gods know he never has enough of it, these days.)

It had been too long since he last came to his family’s graves, anyway.

Sighing, Sasuke lightly touches his older brother’s headstone as he reaches the familiar site, closing his eyes. Miss you more than words can say, he thinks, as he always does. After a moment, he pulls away and kneels down at his parent’s graves, offering them both a singular flower; a white chrysanthemum for his father, and a white lily for his mother. He bows his head to offer a few silent prayers.

When he is done, Sasuke lets himself smile a little, soft, small, and somewhat sad. He shifts to sit down comfortably beside Itachi’s tombstone.

“I’m late, I know,” he says, breathing in the early morning air and setting his gaze on the orange-pinkish horizon. The sun is finally getting up. “Sorry, niisan. I guess I understand why you couldn’t always hold your promise.”

But he doesn’t go on, and he lets silence take over instead, watching as the sun continues to rise, starts to warm the air. Sasuke sighs, eyes dropping shut once more. A heaviness surrounds him, but it’s far from unpleasant, he finds. He lets himself believe that it’s because the spirits of his family have come, summoned by his stressed, frustrated heart to hold and support him in this too-complicated time.

Letting their comfort wash over, Sasuke feels the tension in him ease, dwindle. Gods, he wishes his mother would really be here. Wishes she could tell him what to do, what to say. He’s sure she would know.

(more than his father and brother would, anyway. he doubts either of them would be particularly more skilled in the matters of the heart—father had always been too busy trying to lead their clan to a better future, and itachi had always been too busy being the council’s tool of destruction.)

Pensive, Sasuke wonders what his family would say if they could see the situation he was in right now. Mother would probably bonk him over the head and call him a dense idiot, he muses with a smile. But then she’d also hug him, kiss his cheek, offer him some wise words of wisdom. The opposite of Father, whom of course, would disapprove entirely. And Itachi…

Itachi would undeniably march him to Sakura’s door, demand that he tell her everything—whatever the hour it was. There would be no excuses with him, no justifying how long it was taking to make things right. He would march him all the way to the hospital, to her parents’ house, or over the village borders, if he had to.

Itachi wouldn’t let him fuck this up anymore.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he hears someone say, then, causing him to stiffen rigidly.

Sasuke turns his head over his shoulder. His gaze narrows as he sees his old sensei carrying a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here?”

Kakashi frowns. “It’s my father’s birthday. I think I’m allowed to visit his grave.”

“It’s early.”

“You’re not the only one who has trouble getting rest, Sasuke.”

Mulling his lips, Sasuke keeps his mouth shut, and turns back to the brightening sky ahead. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with his ex-teacher.

(because truth is, these days, it’s not so much that he has trouble sleeping—he just doesn’t seem to have the time. or maybe he just has trouble managing it.)

Behind him, Kakashi sighs. Sasuke hears him start walking towards him, and clenches his jaw. Can’t he just be alone?

“You should think about getting new guards.”

Sasuke blinks. “What?”

“Your ANBUs—the ones you’re obligated to have watch you around the clock. You should request for new ones—or at least find out which ones you can really trust.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

At this, Kakashi gives him a look. Sasuke doesn’t understand it, but it makes his heart sink with dread for a reason he can’t explain.

That is, until:

“I heard three of your ANBUs gossiping when I was heading out of my home earlier. Whispering to each other in the middle of the street how they were glad their shift was finally over because of the things that they had been awkwardly forced to witness in your office today.”

Sasuke tenses impossibly. Shit—he hadn’t even thought about that. Of course his guards would have to be bystanders to this whole damn mess. He feels the back of his neck heat up. Fucking hell.

(indeed, he is going to need new guards—ones that won’t breach the contracted rules of upholding privacy. he needs to find out who the culprits are.)

“Sasuke… you said this was going on because you hadn’t talked about it yet,” Kakashi goes on, then. He’s so quiet, so clearly deprecating, and it makes his blood boil. “How can you not have worked this out by now? It’s been five weeks—”

Angry from both the betrayal of his ANBUs and everyone’s persistent cursed nosiness, Sasuke cuts him off with a snarl. “And how many times do I have to say that it’s none of your fucking business? Stay out of it, Kakashi—this doesn’t concern you.”

Kakashi glares at him—something that catches Sasuke by surprise. He doesn’t usually lose his temper like this.

“It concerns me that you are tearing each other apart, Sasuke,” he says, his tone low but somehow still frighteningly chilling. “So stop being so goddamn stupid and talk to her already.”

And with that, he walks away, leaving Sasuke to swallow down any resentful retorts.

Sasuke digs his hands into the grass. It kills him to admit that though his ex-teacher is nosy and overstepping, he is also right.

No more screwing around.

.

.

“Ogino.”

“Yes, Hokage-sama?”

“Get me the names of the ANBUs who were on guard duty last night.”

“Right away, sir.”

.

.

He decides to let a week pass by before ultimately doing anything, allowing Sakura some space to cool off from their last encounter. Resolute as he is on finally repairing their complicated, splintered relationship, Sasuke doubts Sakura would like to hear anything he has to say when hours earlier, he’d thoughtlessly asked her to leave a job she loved.

(something that still makes him want to groan—it’s one of the dumbest things he’s ever done.)

But he doesn’t let that time go to waste; every day, he works tirelessly on filing papers and conducting meetings, eager to free his schedule to ensure he would have no pressing responsibilities holding him back. He sets himself on making a permanent change: he can’t take back what he’s done, but he can start making his own time for the people that he loves, and put an end to this toxic habit of sacrificing everything for a singular goal. Finding justice for his family is important, yes, but so is Sakura Haruno. He can find a balance, from now on. He can keep the village safe and happy, reform the system, bring respect to the Uchiha clan—and he can make a life with Sakura, be the good partner she deserves to have at her side.

And it all starts here, by finally granting himself the right not to comply to every request sent his way. And also, delegating.

“Hokage-sama?”

Eyes flickering up from the previously sealed mission report at his desk, Sasuke raises a brow when he sees his young, brown-haired second assistant peeking unsurely from his door.

(because yes, he had finally caved to hiring someone else, pride be damned. though almost annoyingly too meek, the woman really was unworldly good at her job—appointing her was the best decision he’d made all year.)

Sasuke gestures her inside. “What is it?”

“Um…” Looking down at the floor, she tucks a fallen lock of hair behind her ear, and Sasuke knows then that he isn’t going to like what she will say. “The council is waiting outside your office. They’re requesting a meeting now—”

“Fuck no,” Sasuke immediately replies, interrupting her as his eyes narrow. He huffs an irritated breath, and returns to the classified scroll at hand. “Send them away,” he says. “And tell them to call and schedule a meeting like everyone else. I have other plans today, and I aim to keep them.”

“B-But sir, I don’t think—”

“I don’t care, Uzume. They’re not the ones who have to bury themselves in work on a daily basis, nor are they the ones who make the final decisions around here. I am the Hokage—they are merely my advisors. They will work with my schedule. Tell them they will wait until a suitable time, or I will have them escorted out of this office.”

Wide-eyed, his assistant blushes—more out of nervousness than embarrassment, he suspects—and then nods jerkily. She gives him a quick, polite bow. “Ah—of course, Hokage-sama,” she stutters, quickly stepping towards the filing cabinet. She drops a massive pile of completed forms on top. “Um, please excuse me.”

Then she disappears from his office to deliver the news, seemingly uncomfortable. Sasuke thinks it’s probably because she fears disrespecting the elders.

He goes back to work, and ignores the ensuing muffled conversation behind the door.

(although, he will admit, he feels oddly pleased as the voices start to grow in volume, exclamations of irritation and contempt becoming more and more distinct. that will teach them.)

Sasuke only pauses again when someone tries to enter anyway; the door jiggles for half a moment before, judging by the light rustling and surrendering cries, the perpetrator is seemingly stopped.

“All right, all right!” a man snaps, sounding suspiciously like Homura. His tone is dripping with sharp irritation. “There is no need to get physical—we will take our leave without you. Uncultured brats… Come, Council, we will come back another time when our leader isn’t in such a foul mood.”

Try when you have an actual appointment, Sasuke thinks, rolling his eyes.

It’s a few minutes before his assistant comes back inside, looking rather stunned. Sasuke spares her only a flickering glance, still contemplating the report.

“The guards did their job, I take it?”

Uzume’s eyes are still wide. “Uh… yes, Hokage-sama.”

He gives her a small, pleased nod. “Make sure to let them know I want no more interruptions. I intend to leave in an hour.”

She nods, too, and bows again. “Okay—um, I mean, right away, Hokage-sama. I’ll… I’ll be back later to file those papers as well.”

Sasuke hums, and the sound of her clicking heels resound across his office. He stops his assistant only when he hears her click open the door. “Uzume.”

“Y-Yes?”

He nearly sighs. “Good work today.”

Her voice reveals an undeniable smile. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

No, it’s you I should thank, Sasuke thinks. For cutting down my work and giving me time to get my life together.

Today is the day.

.

.

An hour later, when he gathering his things, he sends his hawk Takauji with a scroll for Sakura.

Sakura,

Meet me at my apartment in two hours.

We need to see each other. It’s important.

I know you don’t have a shift at the hospital.

Sasuke

.

.

Sakura arrives at his door twenty minutes early, turning the grim expression on his face to one of genuine surprise; he expected her to be late, if anything. Sasuke’s mouth parts, but he closes it quickly, resting his towel on his shoulder. He’d just gotten out of the shower a short while ago.

“Hi,” she says, softly, looking strangely fragile despite still being so lovely. There is a weakness to her gaze that he doesn’t like.

His heart squeezes, and Sasuke swallows. They really are tearing each other apart like this, he muses. Sakura is so much stronger than that.

(but no longer—he will break her no longer.

…or soon, anyway.)

Exhaling a slow, quiet breath, Sasuke lets the tension in him leave. He gives Sakura a nod. “You’re early,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to be early.” There is no displeasure to his tone. Only relief.

Sakura blushes faintly. “I know,” she mumbles, as she looks down at her feet. She seems almost flustered—or even conflicted. Sasuke hasn’t seen her this insecure since she was a young teenager. He hates how much he’s making her pedal backwards. “I just…”

He doesn’t need to hear more. Stepping aside, Sasuke opens the door wider; a silent invitation. Looking up, Sakura blinks at him, swallows, then acquiesces to his offer.

He doesn’t expect her to push him back a few steps and kiss him as soon as she crosses the threshold, one hand tossing his towel away while the other fists his shirt, foot driving the door shut. Sasuke’s breath snags in his lungs, body growing tight. Half a moment later, he finds himself melting against her, utterly overtaken; he draws her close, kisses her back, curling his fingers into her clothes. Her kisses are both hot and wanton as they are sweet and full of yearning, and it makes his head spin.

But then Sakura tugs at his shirt, pulling at the hem like she needs it off, and Sasuke frowns. His thoughts come rushing back to him. No… no, he can’t let this happen again. Not before they talk things out, put everything out in the open—no matter how much she sends his whole body buzzing.

His hands close around her wrists.

“Sakura,” he whispers against her lips, trying to gently tug her away. He hates how much his body screams to get her back, needing her warmth, her closeness. “Sakura, stop. We can’t. This isn’t why I wanted you to come here.”

“It’s okay,” she says, breathless, pulling him close. She kisses him once more, reaching under his shirt to caress his skin. Sasuke tenses, a groan nearly slipping out of him. “It’s okay. I want this too, Sasuke-kun. There’s nothing wrong with this—”

“Sakura—”

“It’s all right.” One of her hands falls to his belly, tracing the faint ridges there. His mind is starting to fog again. Damnit. “Please, Sasuke-kun. I—I need this. You need this.”

“Sakura, this isn’t—”

“Shh,” she hushes, catching his mouth with hers and kissing him deeper. “We don’t need to talk about it. We can keep doing this. We don’t have to stop. Please.”

The hand on his stomach slides beneath the hem of his pants, so close to where he wants her. Sasuke almost chokes, feeling himself spiral. Sharply, he pulls back, deftly slipping away from her too-wonderful fingers. Breaths heavy and choppy, he swallows against his suddenly dry throat, body burning everywhere. Holy shit that was close.

Hurt splinters across Sakura’s face, a few seconds later. The sight keeps him anchored, reminds them why they’re here. Sasuke sighs quietly.

“We do need to talk, Sakura,” he murmurs. “Everything about this is fucked up. All those weeks ago, when we—” He pauses here, and mulls his lips. He looks down. He still doesn’t know how to explain that day. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Things got out of hand. I never meant—”

A wounded noise cuts him off, and Sasuke flinches, eyes settling on Sakura again. He finds her face all scrunched up, mouth twisted as though she wants to cry. She curls a hand protectively over her chest.

“Stop. Please stop, Sasuke-kun,” she pleads, and her voice wavers, cracks. There are tears glimmering now. “I’m begging you—I can’t hear this. I can’t. My heart can’t take this.”

His throat grows tight. Gods, how he wishes he would stop making her cry. Wishes he would stop breaking her heart, wishes he could wrap his arms around her right now and kiss away all her pain. But he can’t. He really can’t. He needs to keep trying, to finally explain to her how he wants so much more than this—how he wants everything, and not just that warm space between her legs.

Sasuke touches her arm gently. “Sakura, listen…”

But Sakura doesn’t want to hear it.

“No!” she wails. She wrenches herself away so fast his heart skips a painful beat. “I’m done doing this with you, Sasuke-kun! I’m done getting pulled in every direction and getting my hopes up, only for you to tear them down! Done being the only one hurt every time you fleetingly grow some kind of conscience!” She’s trembling now, thick tears spilling down her angry cheeks as she seemingly struggles not to burst into loud, miserable sobs. “I’ve loved you for over ten years now, Sasuke-kun. Ten years. And I am tired of getting my heart broken because you can’t get yourself together…

“I don’t want to wait for the impossible anymore. I don’t want to keep hoping you might realize that you want me by your side, or that you might want a life with me. It hurts too much, Sasuke-kun. I’ve already let myself believe it once, when you kissed me all those years ago, but then—then you treated us like we were nothing and I—” A sob escapes her, then, soft and broken and unbearably hard to hear. It takes everything in Sasuke not to look away from her. “When you kissed me again all those weeks ago, I was the closest to you than I’ve been in years, Sasuke-kun… I felt like I finally mattered to you—like I knew I did, once. Even if it was just for this.” Her lower lip trembles. “But now you want to take even that away from me…”

Sakura trails out, and cries even harder, then, so hard she gasps in every breath. Sasuke’s jaw grows rigid at the sight; he doesn’t want to stand here and do nothing anymore.

So with an aching heart clenching so terribly, terribly with every beat, Sasuke cups the face of the woman he loves and gingerly wipes her tears away, careful. Sakura shakes her head with vehemence, pushing weakly at his chest to try and drive him away—but all in vain. She crumbles against his touch, defeated and helpless. She is just as starved for his love as he is for hers, he realizes with downturn of his mouth.

(it’s no wonder she doesn’t want him to take away what they have when she no longer thinks they will ever have anything more.)

Pressing his forehead to her own, Sasuke gathers all the tenderness he can find and kisses her slowly, sweetly, holding her soft, precious face in his hands. He brushes his thumb to her skin as she stills, breath hitching, more tears slipping down her cheeks. He smooths them off, and kisses her once more, just as gently, cradling her trembling body in a warm embrace. Half a sob tumbles from her lips, but she kisses him back, burying her fingers in his hair in desperation.

Maybe he can show her how he feels instead, Sasuke thinks, as he lets her take off his shirt and starts guiding her towards his bedroom. Maybe if he makes love to her with all the devotion and care in his heart, she’ll understand everything.

At least, this is what he tells himself as he lets them tug off each other clothes as they go, lips never parting even as they lightly bump and knock into walls and counters. This is what he tells himself as he kisses her, touches her, keeping himself loving and patient, determined not to let lust take over. Sakura whimpers and holds him closer, hiccupping breaths fading into moans and hot little gasps.

They’re both naked by the time they reach his bed, tumbling onto the soft mattress in the darkness of the room. Dazed, needing to see her, Sasuke reaches to turn on his bedside lamp, cursing when he inadvertently knocks their old team seven frame to the floor. The sound of Sakura laughing startles him, so much that when he turns back to look at her, he can’t help his mind from going back to that time all those weeks ago, where he’d been alone in bed and craving to have her at his side.

And now she was here; naked, smiling, and utterly beautiful, with her sweet, sweet green eyes gleaming at him so brightly. Sasuke’s mouth dries, and raw emotion wells up at him, so thickly he feels nothing short of overwhelmed. He cups her cheek and kisses her with aching gentleness, eyes slipping shut tight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, earnest as he’s ever been.

He feels the smile drop from Sakura’s mouth, lips trembling against his. Sasuke swears he can feel the hurt flaring to life again in her heart, but he refuses to budge as she pushes at him to try and run away.

“Don’t, don’t—Sasuke-kun, don’t do this—”

She starts to cry again and pushes him harder, but Sasuke holds onto her tighter and grits his teeth, brushing his thumb to her cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Sakura—”

“Just let me leave,” she sobs, struggling against him. “Let me leave, let me leave, I can’t do this, just let me leave—”

“Damnit, Sakura, I love you!” Sasuke says, then, frustration getting to him as it comes out sounding sharp and much more forceful than he’d hoped.

(but he’d said it. at least he’d finally fucking said it.)

Sakura’s breath catches, and she stiffens beneath him. “W-What?”

Sasuke softens. “I love you. Sakura, I’ve always loved you. Since five years ago, since before even that. I never meant to hurt you the way that I did—I never meant to get so caught up in my goals that I never put you, or Naruto or Kakashi first. I threw away what we had without even realizing it because I was so focused on the responsibilities I had trying to get justice for my clan. And I wish I realized that sooner. I really fucking do. I wish I’d known how to solve everything, but I had no idea what to do. Especially not after we…” He swallows, and moves his hand to her jaw, then, stroking so devotedly. “Nothing about this has ever been just sex to me, Sakura. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I want more. I’ve always wanted more. I want… you.” All of you. By my side. So stay, please. Stay, and I’ll never make those mistakes again. I promise.

For a moment, Sakura says nothing; she merely keeps crying, unable to stop. Yet there is a lightness to her now, a missing heaviness to the way she wipes her tears and sniffles and hiccups, and it makes the tension in him melt away.

“Y-You love me?” she asks, eventually, her voice so feeble.

But Sasuke catches it, that certain hope and fullness that makes him want to smile. He pushes his forehead to her own, running his thump over her cheek. “I do,” he whispers.

Making some noise of relief, Sakura pulls him close and hugs him tight, burying her face in his neck. Closing his eyes, Sasuke breathes in her scent and pulls her closer, finally feeling relaxed and content—like he hasn’t been able to in much too long. His heart swells in his chest when Sakura runs her hands through his hair, whispering how much she loves him, how much she’s sorry she didn’t listen to him when he was trying to make things right. Brushing his lips to her brow, Sasuke pulls back and kisses her, kissing her again, and again, and again.

He makes love to her when she asks him to, a while later, and it’s slow, and good, and wonderful. Better than any of their times before. He feels full, complete, even moreso when he knows she does, too. There is nowhere else he wants to be—he would spend forever making love to her if he could. When Sakura gets close, she whispers to him to tell her again that he loves her, so he does, once, twice, and three times more. He kisses her when she comes soon after, holding him close and whimpering his name. Sasuke swears she’s never looked more beautiful.

They stay wrapped up in each other when they’re sated and spent, whispering conversation in the dim, moonlit room. Sasuke pulls the sheets over them when Sakura shivers a little from the cold, her giggle curling the edges of his mouth. She thanks him, and kisses him like they have all the time in the world, like there is nothing they can’t face together… and he supposes that as of tonight, that is probably true.

For the rest of his life, he will make time to kiss and love Sakura like she deserves, like she wants.

For the rest of his life, he will make sure she never doubts the place she holds in his heart.

Sleep takes them within minutes, and it’s the easiest he’s had in years.

.

.

Sakura comes to find him at lunch the next day, carrying her usual stack of paperwork and two bento boxes, along with the prettiest, happiest blush. Sasuke feels his eyes brighten in an instant, lips curling in the faintest smile. He doesn’t think twice about abandoning his work for the time being.

“Hello, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura says, tucking her files to her chest. Grinning, she shows off the bento boxes. “I thought you might want to have lunch with me. I know I left in a bit of a hurry this morning… since you know, early surgery and all.”

Sasuke hums. “Hmm. Thank you,” he says, and he takes the bento boxes from her hand to put them aside on his desk. He surprises even himself when he tugs her onto his lap, next, fighting back another smile at her slight yelp. The glow from yesterday clearly still has yet to fade.

Sasuke slides a hand to her hip. He peers inside one of the bento boxes. “Onigri?”

Sakura smiles sheepishly. “Yes… I didn’t have much time when I got home. But I made your favorite kind!”

As if to prove she isn’t lying, she grabs a ball and peels a layer of rice back, revealing the flaky okaka filling. Amused, Sasuke grabs the onigri from her hand and takes a bite, chewing carefully.

“It’s good,” he offers, and Sakura smiles wider. She eats the bits on her hands, and croons with much satisfaction, happy with the fruits of her labor.

Sasuke shakes his head and smiles. “I’ll grab my stuff and we can leave.”

Beaming, Sakura pushes herself off his lap, allowing him to do just that.

It is at the moment that he stands up, however, that Shikamaru strolls in, sporting his usual look of exasperation and mouth opened to say something. He stills and chooses to refrain himself when he catches sight of them both, something of a frown forming.

Sasuke knows then that Shikamaru dreads what he is about to say. He narrows his eyes.

“What?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shikamaru says. He points his thumb to the door. “But we have a meeting with the other Kages starting right now. It’s about the upcoming chunnin exams.”

Fuck. That’s right. Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose. He forgot.

But as he exhales a sharp breath and goes to say that he’ll be there in a minute, his eyes briefly flicker to Sakura, sees her falter. That makes him stop.

(because this was how it all started, back then. brushing her aside time and time again, choosing to deal with matters that weren’t always that pressing, simply because he felt it was his duty.)

Sasuke’s gaze lightens, shoulders softening under the weight of yesterday’s memories. He knows what to do.

“Take Uzume with you and attend the meeting without me,” Sasuke says, taking off his Hokage robes and hanging them over his chair. He gives Sakura the ghost of a smile, and moves to rid her of her stack of files, sliding them onto his desk. “I’ll look over the notes tomorrow. I trust you’ll make the right decisions.”

The smile Sakura gives him in return is blinding, positively radiating with the brightest, most brilliant happiness. Sasuke feels his heart swell with pure, simple pride.

“You sure?”

Sasuke nods at his assistant. “I’m sure.” He picks up both bento boxes from his desk, and puts a hand at Sakura’s back to gently urge her forward. He spares her a tender glance. “I have lunch plans with Sakura.”

He’s learned his lesson.

.

.

.

End.

[determined-magi]

Ah, there it was, they could smell the city’s filth...they had legions out already... good.

They stand at the back, half the group’s gazes lost somewhere, missing, saddening sight that denoted perhaps another little battle, slowly getting lost.. A foot after another, they begin to walk, each gesturing to each legion they hold for their forces to march. Horns run back and forth from the city, a cry or warn, a cry for seeking safety.

Their soldiers hasten their pace, so do they, weapons at the ready. The steadiness and rything of feets and armor soon begin to lose, unrelenting cymbals and loud drums of metal and flesh, deafening all to their ears. Their magic join, together again... 

“ You... we had a fucking deal! “

“ You dare disobey me?! “

“ Fuck you, more than half the city burns, aren’t you satisfied enough, you stupid idiot? The castle already burns, you sent those on purpose! “

“ So what if I did? I brought too them a fair reason to desist, and if you hadn’t interfered, I would’ve had them leave the message I had intended. “

“ Your message cost us, you idiot! We can’t afford to find ourselves be more swayed towards violence. Look at what you just did! Look at what you had me do! I had to knock them two, because they were unresponsive to what you just pulled off, because you dragged them into a fucking slaughter! “

“ Don’t you dare to tell me you wouldn’t have done it, because you have done so to an army on less stellar of ways! “

“ I would, yes! But not to the scale you had done, I would drag them to something they could handle, this clearly was not it, none of us, that was why we brought men, to lessen the damn blood on our hands! “

“ We’ll have to do the same at the academy, and then back to our lands, you think there won’t be armies rising? You’ll think they’ll just lay down like some well behaved dogs? No, we’ll have to cull the remaining resistance, and it won’t be small. This is but a small thing in comparison... “

“ We’re supposed to make it to somehow keep them all from dying, HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO IF WE LET OURSELVES BE SWAYED?? HELL RIGHT NOW BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU ISN’T ENOUGH, I REALLY WANT TO FUCKING RIP YOUR THROAT OUT FOR THIS ONE!! “

“ that is enough... “

“ !!! “

“ !!! “

Blinding pain earns both the ground as two snakes coil around their ankles, eyes turning towards the bleeding face of a mage, eyes somewhat open, but clearly still trying to bring her back from being out.

The next thing that follows is both seeing a pair of familiar circle spells, of a yellow tone. They curse, unable to move, before they know it their strenght quickly wanes to the venting of their magic against their will. Oh how they hated that trick... What follows then is the tackling of both, one by Thannor and the other by Braigon, delivering what would be karma to one, and a sensible action to the other by knocking both with similar punches, taking away weapons and placing a object locked spell over both, the same one just used to release any building magic until seen they were fit to have it back...

“ Well... God must really hate us... “

“ Please don’t... humor is not what we need... “

“ What we need is tie each to a log, and talk with them. “

“ A good idea, when we go back to the camp, any deserters? “

“ We’ll know at the camp, someone send in the signal to regroup. “

“ Oh, thanks for knock the uncalled fucking, you temporal gave me contusion. “

“ We couldn’t afford a damn fight breakin ‘ere, so we did as needed. “

“ Traitorous assholes... “

“ Oh, fuck me sideways, you both are- “

Another punch, Rhowën frowns to Thannor, shaking off the grip.

“ You, spoiled idiotic brat of a prince, did you know what the hell’s been going around? Because I guess from your state of mind, you clearly don’t, so let me give you a moment to knocking it. “ The judge says, grabbing the gamberson and opening his hand, before giving a slap after slap. “ You just fucking slaughtered innocents, fucking innocents. Mother, daughters, babies. Dragged us to it. Weeks after some of us broke down by this whole ordeal, And you acting as far from the person we’ve pledged loyalty to as you could be “

“ Rho, you’re starting to do the same as them... “

“ Like if I will let myself get to that fucking point right now, I had no intentions to get fucking decked, Braigon. “ He hisses, then turns back to both the noble and prince. “ Neithe of you were fucking there, but I was, and I heard sister wail her ass as she fucking drank, then began to give off hand comentary that disolved into self loathing rants over herself and the cheer fucking helplessness she felt, how she fucking howled, and I say fucking howled, over her prince going madder by the months, hell, the weeks, how brother had hardly gotten better, hell she even said you may have fucking gone backwards all over again Agar. She went on fucking rants saying how worthless her existance was as she took bottle after bottle, choked down the vomit trying to leave her, and kept getting drunker and drunker over the course of a pair of hours, hell, you didn’t get worried she would throw a damn bottle and try to kill herself with a god damn shard! “

“ Rho... “

“ NO, I AM GOING TO SPEAK MY MIND TO PUT THE PAIR OF IDIOTS INTO PERSPECTIVE BECAUSE GOD DAMN IT SOMEONE HAS TO, AND GILRIN JUST LEFT TO GET HER DAMN PIECE OF MIND LIKELY ON ANOTHER ROUND OF DRUNKEN MISERY RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE SHE COULDN’T EVEN MUSTER A LOOK TO YOU BOTH RIGHT NOW. “ The judge shouted. “ SHE FUCKING LEFT, LIKELY TO SEE IF SHE COULD FUCKING STEAL SOME DAMN BOTTLES BECAUSE WE DIDN’T HAD ANY, BECAUSE I FUCKING KNEW IF WE BROUGHT MORE SHE’D GO STRAIGHT TO THEM AGAIN BECAUSE HEY, SHE FUCKING LOATHES SLAUGHTERS, AND SHE FUCKING HATES HERSELF FOR AGREEING TO PARTAKEIN THEM, AND HEY, GUESS WHAT? WE OVERDID ONE AND YOU BOTH JUST AGAIN SHOVED UP A “MY FEARS ARE RIGHT” RIGHT DOWN HER THROAT, FUCKING REALLY? AT LEAST I AM TRYING TO LEARN MY DAMN FUCKING LESSON, BUT YOU BOTH TAKE THE FUCKING CAKE!!! “

“ RHOWËN. “

“ AT LEAST I AM TRYING TO FUCKING WATCH MYSELF, BUT YOU, YOU GUYS WANT TO FUCKING MAKE THIS SHIT RIGHT OR NOT? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU TWO WANT FROM US ALL? TO FAIL? BECAUSE SUDDENLY SLAUGHTERING A CITY AND THEN TRYING TO BEAT EACH OTHER SENSELESS IS A GOOD WAY TO GET US TO DO THAT. ONE IT FUCKING SCREWS UP WITH OUR TENDENCY TO ACTUALLY NOT GO TOWARDS VIOLENCE AND DO THE RIGHT DECISIONS; AND FUCKING TWO: IT BREAKS THE UNITY WE DAMN NEED TO KEEP IF WE WANT TO PULL THIS ONE THROUGH YOU FRUSTRATION PAIR OF-  “

“ RHOWËN, now. “

“ ... “

“ Fine, I’ll go steam off again... “

The judge stomps his way, both general and smith sighing as they rub their faces. A rather unusua sight to see, for once the hot headed person wasn’t Thannor, Thanneth was just a few feets silent, watching with a rather flat look to her face as he turned away, somewhere while doing so letting grasp a glimpse of worry. Both prince and noble turn and lower their heads, their own heated thoughts blinding most of the spoken things... yet still showing some of it having nagged at both...

“ You both know he’s worried, don’t you two?. “

...

“ His prince is behaving more like his father, forcing people he’s claimed to care about unto horrendous acts, and hurting innocents as he does. trapped too deep in his own thoughts, by his own feelings almost beyond reason... if such isn’t already. With only seemingly the drive to cause harm, to his own people none the less, and the drive to see all he’s fought for burn too... “ He pauses. “ His sister is breaking at be back of us all, developing a bad habit for which she’s enganged in multiple arguments with someone, to cope with what has been going on these past months, Thanneth even has grown worried... Gilring has been drinking more often, and stronger drinks too... if she’s not smoking alone somewhere away, I would say I am impressed you managed that... “

“ Don’t you question my ledership now, General, I have every right to do as I so wish to with my kingdom, an you will comply. “

“ I don’t question your leadership, young man, that is beyond question and it is going into the field of judging and making critics on it. And sadly, I can no longer do different thanks to you, can’t I? “ He gives a stern stare before turning around to take a seat. “ Yes, you will do as you wish, but for the moment? I will have you both calm down before you let your own emotions, and fresh deaths, blind your own reason and judgement again unto needless violence... “

“ Needless?! HE DISOBEYED DIRECT ORDERS. “

“ Because you slaughtered people, and from what I head people you promised to relatively let go unscathered, a reasonable justification to act as he did. And you also approached towards him in an offensive pose as well. “ He answers, tone grave and not unlike a father or uncle scolding a child. “ Pray tell, what were you thinking as he did? I’ve lived enough to see men turn against others in blind rage, was it to hurt, or to murder for treason? “

“ You DARE... “

“ Yes, I do, you both are acting like petulant children, you more so than Agar. I am honestly frustrated, I did not spend years of my live training, living and helping grow a noble and a prince for this to happen. I do not know what goes around each other’s head entirely, but whatever it is, it is NOT enough to justify what has been going on, and how is had gone so... “ He sighs, a rumble on his throat clearing the annoying mucus, a still annoying left over from the excess of ash and smoke. of a few days before. “ Do tell me, am I wrong? And if so, do clear the interrogants, for I simply can’t understand what you both could think or go through to do these kind of things... “

...

Silence it is then, isn’t it?

“ Well then, have it your ways children, if you ever feel like talking, just mutter a word, I will be meditating the poison away from my mind... “