#The other on the keys to write in Madara's name again & again ... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gentaro-kinniecom · 11 months

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❯Winter, the only season we could be together❮

Characters: Nagisa Ran/gn!reader

C/w: first person pov, mentions of death, illusions (?), fluff, bitter/happy ending, fiction (magic), Rei portrayed as the grim reaper, story based on the shuffle unit ‘La Mort’ and their song ‘Noir Neige’, ritsu is mentioned at some point

A/n: I’ve been writing long fics lately so..hope you guys enjoy <3 Nagisa is like my fav after Madara i love them 🤭 (edit; I decided to repost it again since it was private for a while due to it not having much recognition but yeah!)

Winter; The one season I longed for the most. Yet, I always ended up lost in what is the familiar pathway of my family’s cemetery. Some people would break in often at the beautiful abandoned church, far from our business center but hidden within the forest grounds. A voice from within the building made me speechless. Opening the church’s door with a small creak sound, there he was, the most beautiful man I’d ever met. His long, soft, curly white hair, bounced softly with each note he played skillfully on the piano. My presence didn’t go unnoticed, the man’s eyes red and dull, stared into my e/c ones, taking a step back I slipped due to the ice that had melted and dripped onto the hard-stone floors

“Are you okay?” Without realizing, his hands helped me up, the guy was taller than I had seen when I first arrived

“I’m alright, thank you..I’m Y/n, my family owns the cemetery but, I think they’ve never cared for this church, it’s abandoned after all..”

My words made him interested in hearing more, he grabbed my hand, allowing me to sit down on the bench he was playing in the piano a while ago. The place looked neat, for an abandoned building, it seemed..cleaned up?

“Oh, I see..I hope it’s not a bother for me to play music in here?” I smiled, his eyes wondering around before speaking again “I’m Nagisa” Moving aside and patting the seat beside me, Nagisa smiled, realizing I wanted to hear him play

“Your singing and how you play the piano is really beautiful , I want to hear you again, please?”

His sigh made me a bit uneasy but he agreed. It felt so surreal; I didn’t even notice falling asleep on Nagisa’s shoulder. His eyes showed a panicked look, suddenly being shaken up, I groaned, still tired as he spoke

“You should go back home..it’s not safe around here” Without thinking twice, Nagisa led me outside of the church, letting me go home. But I couldn’t help think why I felt so sleepy while being there..

The days are long and the nights go by so quickly, why was the ending of winter like this? Another stroll through the lifeless cemetery, a figure stuck out to me, what seemed to be two brothers glaring at each other, one of them looked..sad, apologetic even, the other handed him a pomegranate, walking away and leaving his brother alone. As I stepped close, the tombstone’s last name looked familiar..’sakuma’..suddenly, the man stood up, walking my way as I stood there, almost frozen while he spoke

“So you’re the (l/n’s) oldest child..” I nodded, looking at him as he handed me the pomegranate his brother had given him earlier

“My apologies, I’m Rei, Rei Sakuma, you must be Y/n”

“You’re right..do you know my family?” I asked, walking alongside him as we approached the old church, entering as my eyes caught a glimpse of the piano that was now..damaged? It didn’t look playable anymore, how was that even possible?

“Somewhat”- he continued-“The Sakuma’s and your family had a pact of sorts, a peace agreement. Is..everything alright? You seem upset..” My hand touched the piano keys, dust particles collecting on my fingertips as Rei watched.

“Is it..fixable?” One simple question was enough for Rei to comprehend that I have been here before. He gracefully came closer, as soon as his hand touched the piano, it regained it’s old state. Was he even real? Rei smiled, as if hearing my thoughts while opening one of the glass windows. Not noticing how cold it was, he inquired

“Oh, so you’ve been here before?” I didn’t even realize I was nodding until I sat down on the same bench I did weeks ago, when..Nagisa was around. Now that spring was arriving, I didn’t see sight of him anywhere. At least Rei was here..or was he really?

“Only once, but that was four months ago or so, another guy was present at the time, I’m surprised he’s not here”

Rei hummed, deep in thought just as he sat down beside me. He looked at me before asking

“Would you mind if I play something?”

“Not at all..be my guest” A soft melody infused the room, the same one that Nagisa had played the first time we met. I placed my hand on top of his, stopping Rei from continuing as he looked at me

“Can you teach me that song? It’s so lovely, I’d love to play it when I have the opportunity”

Every week I could, I went to keep the place tidy, hoping Nagisa would show up again. Rei on the other hand, came around every two months, helping me learn more about the melody I so loved; Autumn, comforting and sweet..leaves falling down from trees, the crisp air of the afternoon, all indicating that winter was once again arriving soon. After all, it’s been one year since I’ve last seen Nagisa, making my way to the church, now painted and given a new glow, I spotted a letter that had my name written on the front and a sweater below it.

I sat down on the steps of the building, excited to read the letter, however, nothing was written on it. No message or anything, just a blank paper with my name and the initials ‘N’ and ‘R’. Disappointed, I began doubting if Nagisa would ever come back. That was all I could think of, his smile, his red eyes that passionately stared at the sheet of paper that was on the piano..wait, what? I rushed inside, finding a book that remained on top of the piano. It appeared to be a collection of old record songs and such, I took it home with me that day and spent the remaining days of autumn reading and memorizing the musical notes. One fateful night came around when the first snow of this year arrived. I opened the doors of my balcony, holding my hand out, admiring the snowflakes as they slowly landed on my hand, melting as they did.

In the distance, a light illuminated a part of the church, my intuition telling me to follow it. I placed on the sweater I’d found along with the music book and a lantern in hand. Snow started to rapidly build up on the small path, which was weird considering it was the first snow as mentioned earlier. Upon entering the building, the door closed shut and a big gust of wind blew against it, a storm had begun, and I was now trapped inside the chapel. Walking towards the grand piano in the center, I noticed a figure approaching it.

“Nagisa? Is that you?” I called out, yet no response. It was as if I had gone crazy, eventually, I took it upon myself to play the melody I had practiced numerous times. Soon, I sensed someone’s eyes on me, as I turned around..Nagisa stood there, hair down and a new way of clothing; He was dressed in a long, dark navy dress with pants that matched

“Y/n, what are you doing here? It’s too dangerous-“ A hug from my behalf stopped him from speaking, his embrace felt comforting, a warmth like summer; his touch cold like winter.

“I thought I’d never see you again, it’s been over a year, where have you been?” Demanding an answer, Nagisa stepped back, sighing as a figure from the shadows appeared, Rei? It was already strange when I didn’t sense a heartbeat from Nagisa, but even weirder how Rei made himself appear.. it all made sense now, how he ‘magically’ fixed the piano and his mysterious whereabouts

“There’s something you’re not telling me..right?” Rei glanced at the book in my hands, not uttering another word as he came towards me. I started backing up, but fear didn’t rush through my veins, instead, curiosity filled my brain. I tried opening the front door, hutting it as it didn’t budge

“I tried warning you Y/n..I’m sorry” Tears ran down my cheeks, staring at the sweater that was possibly made by Nagisa, instead of giving me a sense of warmth, it felt cold, deathly cold.

“Nagisa, what’s going on..?”He embraced me, it felt as death itself was the one comforting me. Rei held his hand towards me as I let go of Nagisa, he guided me to the center of the church

“It’s a known cliché to wonder around a cemetery, looking at people and thinking they’re real..but you never know when that will actually happen to oneself” A sudden wave of sleepiness dawned over me, as I started to fall asleep, Nagisa prevented me from falling, moving my hair away from my face as he spoke

“I never learned how to love , yet such a kind soul, deserves kind words and actions” With that, his lips brushed against mine, Nagisa’s eyes were teary as we kissed again

“Nagisa..I love you but..nothing is real, isn’t it?” He sighed at my question, guiding me towards the piano, letting me sit beside him and rest my head on his shoulder.

“It..isn’t my beloved. I want to be with you yet..you’re still alive, I can wait years, decades even until we both find each other in the afterlife-“

“No, I want to be with you now. Even if it means dying right now, I’m sure of it” My words shocked Nagisa, meanwhile, Rei already knew exactly what to do. I got up, taking Rei’s hand as I began to drift away from reality. Eventually my body went limp again’t Rei’s, and soon, I found myself back again, now in a different room than before. A bed I’d never seen before, regal from its outdated appearance. At the end of it sat Nagisa who smiled as he saw my awakening

“Do you feel any different? I’m glad it all worked out” I smiled, watching as he got up, walking towards me. Nagisa held my hand, kissing me afterwards as the smile on my face grew

“I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary, I’m sure my parents are worried about me” Without another word in, I got up from the bed, looking through the window and at the funeral that was being held at that moment

Some moments after exploring the church, I went outside; Rei was already waiting for me as I approached the newly placed tombstone..with my name engraved on it. That same night I went missing, my body had been found at the chapel, lifeless, no bloodstains or cuts around it, from what I heard. My favorite flowers adorned the tombstone, making it look full of life, unlike me.

#ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #nagisa ran x reader #nagisa ran #noir neige hyperfixiation real

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belit0 · 4 years

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Sibling Issues

Chap 2

Rating: E

Pairing: [Uchiha Madara / Uchiha Izuna / Fem Reader]

TW: nope

[DON'T HATE ME OMG THIS HAS BEEN ON MY MIND AND I HAD TO WRITE IT laufuekwslak]

Madara has always been perverse with his punishments, profoundly enjoying the sight of you suffering in front of his eyes, witnessing your despair to an almost maddening extent. It is not as if you had something to complain about, being tied up and over-stimulated to the limit of frustration by a man like him seemed like a dream, and every time you felt his expert fingers wandering through the scars he created in your skin, you wondered if your relationship with the Uchiha was not purely a charming fantasy.

That's how you felt at that moment, imprisoned in bed, naked and bound by hands and legs. With your limbs forced to stay apart by ropes, it is your man who watches you from his intimidating height, standing in front of you, rejoicing in your humiliation.

Gagged with your panties, you cannot speak or beg for mercy, for knowing him, you know that something heavy is coming, even considering the torture he has been inflicting on you for the past thirty minutes. How did you end up in this situation? You refused to accompany him to his meeting with Hashirama this morning, as the previous night was filled with passion and rudeness on his part, and you really needed to sleep. Of course he did not take your disobedience well, and no opportunity escapes Madara to punish you when you are a bad girl.

Crossed arms in front of the bed, wearing a black turtleneck shirt, with his hair pulled up in a ponytail and ready to leave again, he observes you with malice. In one of his hands, a black vibrator is off, glowing with your fresh fluids because it has been recently removed from you. He's only wearing gloves on one of his hands, and it's the one he's not holding the object he's using to tease you.

"Now, [Y/N], I'd love to stay and play with that sweet, tight pussy of yours, but I've been summoned by the elders of the Clan to a private meeting. You have 10 seconds to cum, otherwise you will remain tied up until my return."

Flushed and on the verge of tears, you did your best in begging him to take you, as the constant stimulus he had been applying to you for the past half hour was too much, and you could no longer bear it. In fact, you weren't even sure you could concentrate enough to cum with the speed he was demanding.

The incoherence of your words, which were suffocated by the fabric of your underwear, and the drool that fell from your mouth because of the inability to close it completely, only made Madara laugh in front of you, sending even more heat to your lower body and a feeling of deep humiliation to the whole situation.

This man delights in throwing you low.

"Keep quiet, are we clear?"

Approaching your dripping cunt again, he turned on the vibrator, while slowly positioning himself between your legs. He travelled all over your skin with the moving object, rubbing all areas of your body and purposely avoiding your clitoris. Staring into your eyes, the devilish grin on his face was unable to wipe off his features, enjoying your helplessness and cravings, the need to feel pleasure and liberation once and for all.

When a tear escaped from one of your eyes, he decided he could give you what you finally deserved, and without warning, he directed the vibrator that was slowly massaging your nipples towards your pussy, pressing it directly on your sensitive pearl, watching you with expectant eyes.

Your back curved upwards, while you pressed your hips towards him, seeking even more support and contact with the object that would give you your long-awaited orgasm. Your eyes inevitably closed, and your mouth opened in an incredible way, making your underwear go even deeper into it.

“1… 2… 3…”

In the face of Madara's hasty account, you remembered with effort his warning, and made your greatest effort to direct your mind to the greatest point of pleasure, even without being able to move your legs or arms.

"4... 5... 6... such an obedient little whore..."

At the compliment of your man, the motivation you really needed appeared, and you could feel the much-awaited moment finally arrive.

“7… 8… 9…”

And before he could reach the end of the count, one of your best orgasms hit your senses, causing your whole body to shake and your limbs to seek compression against your figure, protecting your sensitive clitoris from the abusive prolonged sensation of the vibrator.

When he saw that you met his demand, he walked away from you and removed the object, took the panties from your mouth and gave you water to drink.

"Well done [Y/N], I expected nothing less from you... but I regret to inform you this is not enough."

"W-Wha-at?"

"You abandoned me all alone with Hashirama and his delusions of worldly friendship all morning. Did you think such a modest punishment would save you, doll?"

"Madara please!"

He took your jaw with his gloved hand, exerting a slight pressure to open your mouth, and pushed the same underwear back into your cavity. A muffled scream escaped your mouth in surprise, which the Uchiha easily silenced with a slap on your thigh.

Leaving you tied up, he turned on the vibrator again, and there you understood the worst was what you were about to face. He pushed the object deep inside you, wiped his fluid-soaked hand on a towel, arranged his clothes and put on the missing glove.

"I'll take my time; I expect to return and find you a mess."

You couldn't even think of an answer, as the pleasure and sensitivity your body was experiencing at the same time was too much to concentrate on anything else.

With a firm step and completely unconcerned with your condition, Madara disappeared out the door of the room, while his steps were heard increasingly faint in the corridor. A second later, the front door opened before closing again, leaving you alone in front of Uchiha's mansion.

Your figure twisted in bed, thanking every orgasm caused by the vibrator inside you and trying to cooperate with the over-stimulation, forcing the ropes that kept you tied up, trembling at every sensation and movement, your skin bristling and your eyes watering from such torture.

So abstracted were you in your world of self-indulgence that you did not hear the front door open and close again.

Nor did you hear the footsteps outside the room.

Nor did you hear the voice of a man who was not Madara asking if everything was okay.

Reality hit you again when your reddish eyes met those of Uchiha Izuna, who, for some reason unrelated to you, was at your house, at your bedroom door, witnessing the kinks you and your man shared.

"...I-I... I-I... shouldn't b-be here..."

As the Uchiha was about to leave, the vibrator touched a key point inside you, making you scream loud and deeply while another orgasm was released into your body. The muffled moans caught his attention, and the way your body contorted itself mesmerized him into an inexplicable spell.

Awakening from the enchantment of your figure, Izuna realized that his Sharingan had been activated, and that in his memory now lay engraved the intimate moment of you reaching your peak of pleasure. Ashamed of himself for even having such thoughts with his brother's partner, he walked over to the bed, and removed the garment that prevented you from speaking.

"I'm sorry [Y/N] I'll leave you alone and..."

"PLEASE IZUNA HELP ME."

Stupefied by his uselessness and feeling guilty about your clear suffering, the Uchiha tried to regain his composure and not let himself be carried away by the image in front of him.

"S-Sure! Just... just tell me what I have to do."

"UNTIE MY HANDS."

Obeying your demands, he quickly released your two wrists, having to lean slightly over you to untie the one at the other end of the bed. When you regained movement, something fierce took hold of your mind, and the fact of having another Uchiha in front of you, belonging to Madara's family, no less than his little brother, set your senses on fire even more.

Taking him by the hair with force, you made his face bend towards you, brutally bumping his lips against yours. Izuna found himself reluctant to reciprocate the kiss at first, but when your tongue slipped over his lips in hunger and need, his mouth opened without hesitation and devoured you with the same intensity.

Separating slightly and for a second, you managed to look him in the eye and tell him.

"Please fuck me Izuna."

"Shit, if you ask like that."

He quickly positioned himself between your legs, and rapidly Dropping your almost numb extremities on the mattress, you watched as he removed the vibrator from your interior, moaning at every centimeter of the object.

In the blink of an eye, his clothes lay forgotten somewhere in the room, and a hardened limb stood in front of your entrance. Aligning himself with you, his thrust was sharp and direct, penetrating you mercilessly.

He leaned over you, hiding his face in the hollow of your neck and biting into your skin, while your legs locked around his waist to feel him completely within you. Your hands became entangled in his hair, and soon you found yourself undoing his ponytail so you could pull his strands more easily.

His breaths became agitated, short and deep, arousing you even more, to the point where you thought it was no longer possible to receive stimulation. His muscles above you tensed with every movement of his hip, and with your tightened eyes, you breathed in his male scent with despair.

"I'm going to... ah... fuck you so well... shit... that you'll forget... his name... Kami... you're so tight [Y/N]"

"I-Izuna-a -gasp- I'm c-com-ming -gasp-"

Upon hearing your response, his thrusts took on a new speed, an almost overwhelming pace for your labored body, making you reach the last orgasm of the night with just a few moves. You felt his cum spread inside you, covering your walls with that warm liquid, and your mind was delighted with satisfaction.

Until you realized what had really happened.

And when Izuna came down from his orgasm, he couldn't help but feel less guilty than you.

"[Y/N]... what... what have we done..."

#uchiha madara x reader #uchiha izuna x reader #madara x reader #izuna x reader #uchiha madara #uchiha izuna #madara #izuna #x reader #madara x izuna x reader #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader

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snickiebear · 3 years

Note

Hello, snickiebear! Congratulations on your 200 followers! If you have the time, would you mind writing Shisui x Sakura in a nonmass au? I’m actually curious about your take on a time travel scenario with this pairing, but I also understand that a lot of works have been written on time travel already, so it’s still awesome if you don’t do the time travel part!

Congratulations again and thanks for taking the time to read this ask! Your works are really enjoyable to read. Thank you so much for writing and for doing this 200-follower event!

hello lovely anon!!! thank YOU for reading and requesting!!!! this one was so much fun to write! you ask for time travel + nonmass + shisaku? i am helpless to deliver!! this is a bit more angsty than i wanted but are we surprised? (nope, not at all lmao) this is also now on AO3 bc i really liked it!

also, apologies that this took a bit!! lifes been a real fuckin bitch and the wall of writer's block hit me like a train AHAHAHA but i hope you like this one!!! :)))

The sky is sunny and the spring beautiful when the sky splits itself in half with a brillant, blinding flash of light.

Shisui, masked and riding the after mission high, can only stare as a body plummets from that crack, limp and silent.

It is as if the heavens have spit out what they have deemed unworthy.

Or perhaps, the heavens are dropping a gift on their doorstep.

Either way, Shisui is moving before he knows what is happening, catching that body— a woman with shaven pink hair— and holding her close, head tucked under his chin.

She’s breathing, chest rising and lowering feebly.

Shisui catches his breath as the fracture within the sky closes and only then does he notice the mask.

Porcelain and painted. A combination of a snake and fox, a wolf and slug.

His ANBU team materializes next to him, Dog-taicho’s chakra going from lazy to alert at the sight of the woman. “That’s…”

“Yeah.” Shisui says hoarsely. “She- she needs medical attention. I think.” There is a lot of blood, she’s dripping in it. But he can’t see where she’s bleeding from… or if all that blood is even hers.

“Let’s go.” Dog-taicho cuts through his thoughts, voice hard and a bit panicked. Afterall, Kakashi owes his life to this woman, they all did.

Team Ro blurred out of existence in their race to Kohona, their Savior clutched within his arms.

It's funny, really. When she looks back, as she so often does now, it's laughable. The fact that Haruno Sakura, the civilian born, the nobody, the weak one of Team 7 is the only one left.

Sakura was the only one left in the war against Kaguya and she had done what she has always done; what was needed.

So, Sakura was the only one left and she figured out what was left of Naruto’s seals and shot herself through time to fix everything, to save everyone. To take down Danzo, Hanzo, Madara, to save Sai, the Uchihas, Kakashi.

She was the one to heal Obito, to save Rin, to make sure that Itachi’s hands would never be stained with his family’s blood.

And now, now she sits in a T&I room and she laughs, laughs herself hoarse because she succeeded, she won. And now she is in the future, her intended destination, but it is not the same.

In this future, Haruno Sakura does not exist. She is nothing and no one.

Naruto and Sasuke are alive and well and happy. They get to live the lives they could have only dreamed about.

And Sakura. She doesn’t exist.

She laughs herself hoarse, the laughs turning into broken sobs and she drops her forehead to the table, hiccuping and clenching her hands into blood inducing fists.

Alone. As she always has been.

The door creaks open and Ibiki steps in, a folder in hand.

Sakura’s head snaps up, wiping her face as she almost sighs in relief. She loved (loves?) Ibiki, he once was one of her closest friends near the end. She knows Ibiki, trusts him. Or, at least, she had.

Sakura straightens in her chair, careful of the chakra suppressing handcuffs that really do nothing for her, just acting as a hindrance. But, she does not remove them because she is not a threat to Konoha, she never has been, never intends to be.

Ibiki sits down in front of her, eyeing her carefully and it almost feels like coming home. “You say your name is Haruno Sakura.”

“Yes.” She rasps, licking her cracked and bleeding lips. “That’s right.”

Her eyes flit to the glass window, ignoring her own reflection as she narrows her eyes at whoever is behind the wall. An unknown chakra signature, wild and worried. And— and—

Kakashi.

His cool and lazy chakra, almost like a current of electricity. She would know that chakra any where, as if it is engrained deep in her bones. And right now he’s interested, almost antsy.

Swallowing, Sakura looks back to Ibiki, who had been watching her keenly. “You already had Inoichi-san do a mind walk. You know everything I do.” Shoulders back, chin tilted, spine steeled.

The dead man that sits in front of her hums and opens a folder, “We believe you—”

“It is not a matter of believing.” Sakura snaps, eyes flashing. “You know it is a fact. He saw, he showed you, you saw. How could I ever make something like that up?”

“What we know,” Ibiki says too calmly, too pleasantly, “Is that you are severely traumatized.”

And Sakura well, she laughs again. Because. Because what else is she supposed to do? She gives and gives and gives and is given nothing back.

There are no fruits for her labor, no reward for her sacrifice.

Shoulders shaking as she cries and laughs, scrubbing at her face. “We were friends, you know.” She manages. “I made you laugh twice, once after I lost my middle finger,” Sakura holds up her hand to show him, unsure of why she is even talking. “The second when you were dying in my arms.”

Silence rings out as Sakura gathers herself, swallowing harshly. Ibiki is still looking at her, but the way is no longer cynical, no longer studying.

“Haruno—”

“Just Sakura,” She says wearily.

“Sakura-san,” He continues, “When you were brought in you had a mask on. A mask that has been seen countless times saving Konoha shinobi.”

Sakura does not dare mention the fact that she has also interfered with Suna, giving Gaara the childhood he deserves. And with Mist, cutting the head off the snake quickly enough that the caste system would never truly solidify.

So, she nods. “I am aware.”

“And you claim you are the person behind the mask on every occasion.”

Sighing, she runs a hand over what is left of her hair and makes direct eye contact with her once friend, giving a curt nod, “I am the person behind the mask.”

“One last question, Sakura-san.” Ibiki murmurs, jotting something down in his folder. Sakura forces herself not to read the familiar writing. Though, she is well equipped to read upside down. “How did you come to possess the rinnegan?”

The air drops from mildly uncomfortable to freezing and Sakura does not balk at the question. “You saw it for yourself, Ibiki. It was a gift.”

“Yes, but from who?”

Her heart aches, squeezes at the thought of Naruto, of Sasuke, phantom pains. It is as if she has lost a limb, a piece of her heart when they had turned to ash between her fingers. But Sakura does not waver as she says, “It was a parting gift from Uchiha Sasuke before he died.”

The unknown chakra behind the wall erupts into a mess of emotions while Kakashi’s is mildly surprised if not wary. There is tension between the both of them though.

Which is incredibly amusing considering it wasn’t until much, much later did Kakashi ever see anything to be wary about in her.

(It took her flicking the ground and allowing it to split open and swallow any of their pursuers to convince him that she could very well tear him in half without a second thought.

She wouldn’t though. Team 7 and its members will always be a soft and deeply bruised spot for her. A wound she could never quite heal. Sakura cannot remember a time when she has ever been bruiseless. She has come to terms with being wounded.)

Ibiki closes the folder and taps it on the steel table between them, he motions over his shoulder and the door opens swiftly, revealing Kakashi and another Uchiha with curly hair.

He’s just as she remembers him, except not. Her Kakashi had slouched, had a certain energy about him.

This one, he looks the same, has the scar, the slight slouch. But it is clear that ghosts no longer beat on his back, the world's weight no longer bends him to its will.

Pain races through her heart, echoing physically throughout her body. It hurts. It shouldn’t, seeing her old sensei, her once friend, happy. But it does.

Because while she cannot live without Team 7, it is clear Team 7 can live without her.

She straightens, eyes sharp and body tense as Ibiki stands, chair scraping harshly against the floor and then takes her hands into his, calluses and scars scraping against each other.

Sakura could only imagine what Tsunade-shishou would say if she were to see her, riddled with scars and missing fingers. She could have healed them without a second thought, but chakra had been precious then. Every single ounce had been poured into keeping her precious people safe and herself alive enough to keep fighting.

Her once friend produces a key and unlocks the handcuffs, letting them drop heavily into his awaiting hands before standing up, “Sakura-san, this is Hatake Kakashi,” Her former teacher gives her a hard once over. “And Uchiha Shisui.”

Her skin itches and crawls at Kakashi’s look, cold and unfond, nothing like how she remembers him. And of course, of course he wouldn’t be the man who she had come to adore. He is someone else in this carefully constructed future of her own doing.

The blame, as always, rests upon her weakening shoulders. Sakura is crumbling, her sanity chipping away ever so slowly. It is laughable, really. She wants to throw her head back and howl, she wants to bow and allow herself to scream.

But, if she were to begin to scream, she is not sure she would be able to stop.

So, she gives a curt nod, “Hatake-san. Uchiha-san.”

“Shisui, and therefore the Uchiha, have volunteered to bring you into their custody.” Ibiki goes on, taking a step back. Sakura stays where she is, rooted.

A chill runs up her spine and she looks to Ibiki almost pleadingly. “And you can’t simply dump me into ANBU instead?”

“Mah, Sakura-san.” Kakashi drawls and Sakura’s will cracks. (That bruise will never quite heal.) “I can promise that the Uchiha aren’t as bad as they seem.”

Shisui smiles and it is unlike any smile she has seen before.

She cannot remember the last time she had seen a smile.

“Don’t listen to the old man, Sakura-san.” Shisui says and she’s caught off guard at how friendly he sounds, deep and welcoming. Sakura swallows harshly. “We’re a bunch of assholes but no harm will come to you, we can promise that.”

Uchiha men, she thinks with distaste, will always hold a knife to her heart. And they will always know how to twist the wretched blade to get her to bend for them.

But. But perhaps Sakura could bend, bend and lay and rest. Just once. And this time she'll bend for herself. Perhaps.

She finds herself nodding, hands shaking despite the steel in her spine, her shoulders still straight. “You’re going to just let me go.”

Ibiki gives her a hard look and Sakura’s lips twitch. Ah, of course not. The Uchiha compound is just a glorified prison. Then again, it is much better than anything she thought would happen.

Then again, Saura never thought this would happen.

Too desperate, too blind with the possibility of a chance to see them again, to be whole again. She, for all her brains, all her genius, had not even stopped to think of the possibility that her future would no longer exist.

It is laughable, really.

So she laughs, she clutches her stomach and laughs because what else can she do?

Sakura has done what she has always done; what was needed. And once again, like every other time, there is nothing but black at the end of the tunnel. No light exists for her.

She is to blame for her own destruction, her own crumbling.

“You can come out,” Sakura’s voice calls out and Shisui grins.

He steps from the shadows, two mugs in hand as he comes to sit next to her, offering her the drink. She takes it without hesitation but swirls it before sipping from it, Shisui watches as her eyes light up just a little bit.

Hot cocoa with peanut butter. He had noticed, the last time the clan had it, that she’d snuck four mugs worth.

If Sakura was surprised he noticed, she didn’t show it. She was like that, a one way mirror, giving nothing away even as she saw everything.

“Did you want something, Shisui-san?” She twitches as he scoots a little closer, the fireflies floating around the backyard. “Or did you just want some company?”

Shisui smiles boyishly, tilting his head back to look at her, “Heard that Minato-sama called you into the Hokage’s office again.”

“You mean you heard from Genma, who told Itachi while on their date, who then told you that the Hokage summoned me for the fourth time this week.” Sakura snorts, taking a long drink from her mug. There's a little foam on her upper lip that he fights to not wipe away. “He and his wife keep trying to convince me to let them look at the seals I used.”

Shisui pauses, eyes trained on Sakura as she looks to the sky, head leaning back. Her hair has grown out a little, more fuzz on her head than anything, she looks more alive, well fed. Deep bags under her one visible eye, three nasty scars dissect her face and the rest of her body isn’t any better.

She is the most beautiful, most terrifying, most devastating thing he has ever seen.

“The seals you used…”

“To go back and hop through time like a jack rabbit to save the entire world?” She asks, a wry smile on her face. “Yes, Shisui, those seals.”

He hums, leaning back on the heels on her hands, “Why don’t you just let them look?”

“They aren’t my seals to share.” Sakura half snaps, shoulders curling in, her body strung tight. “Naru— my friend was the one to draw them out, I just figured out the last bit of it. Plus, there is no reason why they need to see those seals.” Her tone sharp, unyielding almost pleading.

Shisui stays quiet until Sakura begins to slowly relax. She gets like this sometimes, tense and defensive. As if trying to convince herself rather than him of her deeds. He knew better than to push, he knew that she had gone through more than anyone would ever go through.

The way Ibiki and Inoichi look at her with the utmost respect can verify that. The way Kakashi and Rin and Obito have gone out of their way to greet her, to help her speaks volumes.

He takes a drink from his mug, studying the stars winking above them. “Hey Sakura,”

“Yes?” She sounds oh so weary. His very soul aches.

“Thank you, for everything.” He doesn’t dare look at her, barely hearing himself over the pounding of his heart. “You don’t talk much about what happened but I know, I can tell that it was horrible. And thank you for saving us, the world.”

She had lost everything, everyone. In that future that she had protected them from Sasuke died, Itachi died, he was dead. He could only imagine what the ruins of that world looked like. He could only imagine what Sakura had to do to survive.

Sakura’s fingers are cold, freezing as they brushes the back of his hand. Shisui fights a shiver, the trail of goosebumps, the thrill. “Oh, oh Shisui.” Her voice is heartbreaking and full of nothing but steel. “I would never allow anyone to endure that. You will never have to endure that, I made sure of it. Never. No one will. I promise.”

Her hand draws back as she brings her knees to her chest, eyes far away and breathes quick. And Shisui, he doesn’t know what comes over him as he scoots even closer and carefully wraps his arm around her strong shoulders, drawing her closer.

And. And Sakura, she allows it. She moves to his side, not quite leaning but touching.

“Are you happy here?” Shisui finds himself asking after long minutes of silence. Sakura’s breath evened out and she sits with her chin on her knees.

Her eye flits to him, weighing and heavy. She looks at him and Shisui cannot help but see the age, the ancientness that has taken root. He wants to pull out the misery within her, wants to hold her tight enough that she will never fall apart without somewhere there to catch the pieces.

He wants to love her, he wants her to let him love her.

“No.” Sakura whispers, as if her unhappiness in a world that does not know her, that has done nothing for her is such an awful, wretched thing. ��I miss everyone.”

Shisui cannot say anything so he does what he does best; what he wants.

He stays with her, arm resting on her shoulders and slowly, Sakura allows herself to lean into his side.

Around them, the night settles and the crickets chirp. The heavens had nothing to do with Haruno Sakura, with their Savior, coming to them. No, Sakura is the catalyst of this, of this paradise they now all reside in.

If anything, she is the heavens themselves. And it is about time someone tells her that, shows her that.

Sakura sees them for the first time in the five months she has landed in this new future. Itachi invited her to meet his genin team. Itachi, the man who had once been a mass murderer, is now a mednin and a jounin sensei.

Shisui joins her because of course he does, he has been the one constant throughout this entire ordeal. The Uchihas are nothing like she thought they would be. The Uchihas are everything she hoped they would.

They are loving, friendly, welcoming, and thankful. Mikoto is nothing but heaven sent sunshine and cloud soft embraces, Fukago is nothing but a deep rumbling laugh and fond looks.

No one is the same, nothing is the same.

Shisui is there though, at her side, at her back. She trusts him, gods, she trusts him. Despite her better judgement, despite everything. Sakura trusts Shisui.

So, Shisui joins her as she takes to the roofs and to training field 7. She’s finally been cleared for the mission roster and given her jounin blues. Though, Sakura has yet to decide if she even would enjoy going on missions.

Maybe with Shisui.

But she does not think she has a taste for violence anymore, for killing. Maybe she'll spend her days with Kakashi's dogs and holed up in the libraries. Maybe she'll visit Gaara or Chojuro.

She had yet to meet Tsunade, who had been hunting for her since Minato (the bastard) had let it slip that Sakura was in possession of the rinnegan and the byakugan seal. Shisui is exceptionally good at playing discractor as Sakura flees to rock in a corner until he finds her. He's good at that, holding her, letting her breathe, allowing her to find solace within his arms and his space.

They step onto the training fields and Sakura freezes mid step to watch as Sasuke, Naruto, and Sai (oh, oh Sai. Sweet Sai, oh.) attack in perfect sync.

They’re fourteen if her math is correct.

They move smooth and swift, nonverbal communication as if they had been working like this for years. It's beautiful, really.

Something ugly claws at her heart, catching on an already scabbing part to rip open a new wound. Simply another reminder that Sakura is not needed. She never was.

It's laughable, really.

Shisui’s fingers massages the sides of her neck with his fingers, the spot where her skull and neck meet. “You’re tense.”

“They have beautiful teamwork.” She chokes out.

He looks at her, long and open, “We can go home, if you want.”

Shisui’s good at that t00, the open ended question, the way of making her not feel trapped. He's too perceptive for his own good, she has yet to tell him anything except what is on record. But, but. He knows. He knows of Kakashi, of Naruto, Sasuke, and Sai. It is both a relief and a terror. “No.” She manages, curling her hands. She is Haruno Sakura. She has faced the impossible her entire life. Ghosts are nothing compared to gods.

At least, that is what she tells herself.

“I’ll be fine.” Sakura glances up at him, licking her lips. He watches the movement before his eyes flit back up hers and he offers one of her favorite smiles. The one where his dimples are visible, where she can see the small chip of his front tooth and the way his top canin is a little crooked.

Itachi calls the spar minutes later, the boys slumping onto the ground and breathing heavily. Sakura offers a small smile as Itachi nears them, waving a hand in greeting.

“Ah, Sakura-chan.” He grins, then looks to Shisui, dry amusement clear in his tone, “Shisui.”

“You’ve trained them well,” Sakura praises, watching as Naruto (oh gods, Naruto with his big blue eyes and blonde, blonde hair) pulls a limp Sasuke (a Sasuke who laughs freely, who smiles, and is loved) onto his feet, Sai huffing a chuckle from the ground.

Itachi practically beams at the praise, “They are very talented. And you would like to meet them, yes?”

Shisui’s thumb traces the bumps of her spine and Sakura is reminded that she has forged herself from the ashes of her friends, that she is borne from war and steel. She can do this. Shisui is here and she can do this. “Yes, I would love to, Itachi.”

Shisui’s hand burns through her clothes as they follow Itachi, the boys immediately catching sight and freezing at the sight of them. Sakura will never admit it out loud that she has been avoiding any and all people from her past (present? future?).

One look at Ino, whole and happy and sassy, and Sakura had almost gone insane. And then Shikamaru and Chouji, all together, all smiling. Gods, Sakura had fallen to her knees at the sight. Such grief, such loneliness—

She’s better now. She is.

“Team 7.” Itachi says, “This Haruno Sakura, and you already know Shisui.”

Silence.

Sakura shifts under the wide eyed gazes of the boys, the men she loved (loves?) with her entire being. “It is a pleasure to meet you,”

Naruto recovers first because of course he does. And he smiles at her, he smiles at her and Sakura wants to claw at her skin and cry. Shisui intertwines their hands, as if sensing that urge.

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto!” He’s fourteen and he's alive and he’s happy. He isn’t out of the village, he’s here because he has a clan, he has a family. “Is it true that you’re the Savior?”

Sasuke smacks him in the back of the head with a scowl, “Be polite, dobe.” To Sakura he offers a bow, “It is pleasure to meet you, Haruno-san. I am Uchiha Sasuke.”

Sakura’s lips twitch despite herself. Never, not once, did Sasuke ever bow to anyone. He had always been arrogant, but here? Now? It's laughable, really.

She glances to Sai and he isn’t as pale as he once was, his cheeks are full of color, his eyes brimming with life. “I am Senju Sai, Haruno-san.”

And. Sakura pauses at that. Senju Sai, huh. Perhaps she'll have to face Tsunade sooner than later. The thought added to the dread filled pool in her stomach. But. But, she could do it. Maybe.

“It is very nice to meet you all,” She croaks and then offers a very brittle smile. “And Naruto-kun,” She fights a shiver at the honorific. “That information is S class, but find me when you make jounin, hm?” And for a moment she could pretend that everything was okay and she was teasing her Naruto. Just for a moment.

Much to her amusement, all three boys pout, looking to Itachi who shrugs, “You heard Sakura, now, let’s see formation Alpha but reverse.”

The boys groan and Sakura can’t help the smile, a smile with teeth.

She can feel Shisui’s eyes on her before she even turns to look at him. Her body is shaking, Sakura realizes blankly but Shisui still holds her sweating hands, squeezing ever so slightly. “Ready to go?”

Sakura swallows, staring up at him, studying him. And oh, she is so tempted to uncover her eye, to memorize his face. “Yes. Let’s… let's go home.”

He wakes to warmth pressed against his chest, warm breaths against his neck. Their legs are tangled, her arm thrown over his side and brushes against the bare skin of his back. Both of them are missing their clothes, Sakura preferred being able to feel the skin on him, the brush of flesh between them.

What they have, it is something deeper than any type of physical act. No, what they have… well, Shisui can not put it to words. There are no words. There will never be words.

It is rare for Sakura to sleep soundlessly and through the entire night. Shisui kisses her forehead, above her seal, on one of the many scars of her face. She doesn’t stir except to shift ever so slightly, hugging him closer.

And if Shisui’s heart melts, no one else is there to see the absolute brilliant smile on his lips.

“Sakura,” He murmurs because if she doesn’t get up soon, she’ll miss her lunch with Ibiki (who gets very grumpy when his time with Sakura is cut short), “Sakura.”

She grumbles, limbs tensing for a moment, a single breath before melting once more. “Shisui,” Her voice is rough with sleep, the sound swirls and dances around his bones. “G’mornin’.”

Shisui laughs, a soft push of air, as Sakura leans back to peer at him, both eyes uncovered as she studies him, the look like a physical caress. “Good morning.” He whispers, kissing her forehead once again.

“What time is it?” She murmurs, eyes drooping closed.

“You’ve got about an hour before Ibiki comes knocking.” Shisui chuckles.

Sakura snorts, pulling away to stretch her arms above her head, arching her back in the way that Shisui can admire every muscle, every scar, every part of her. “Then I better get up,”

“Or, you could always stay,” Shisui cajools, to which Sakura only laughs. The sound is beautiful and full and makes his heart beat a little faster.

“The last time I canceled on Ibiki was when I had to help Itachi with his and Genma’s wedding plans, and he sent little Terror Ino after me for a week.”

Shisui cracks an even wider grin, “Well, at least you got some nice clothes out of it.”

Laughing again, Sakura leans down to kiss him, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Go on,” Shisui shoos, making a little gesture with his hand. “Have fun, I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

She cups his face, thumbing the sharp of his cheek bone before leaning forward to kiss him again, "I love you." Then. "I am glad that my suffering brought me to you, that I landed here."

"I love you." He returns, barely a whisper as he brushes hair behind her ears. His heart beats for her, cracks and aches and swells. All for her. "There will never be a time that I will not love you. There will never be a time where I do not see you and see everything you are, everything you have done."

The sky is sunny and the spring beautiful as Sakura, the very heavens themselves, mouth splits into a brilliant, blinding smile.

(Sakura has crumbled and broken, she has fallen apart over and over. She has always known how to put herself together, until she couldn’t.

But Shisui, oh Shisui, he has always been readily available with glue and tape. He will always be there to hold her together with his bare hands, ready to bleed for her, with her.

She has given and given and given. He is willing to give everything back to her tenfold.

It is the very least she deserves, the very least the world can gift her. Shisui will always be willing to give more.)

#silly things from silly friends #i hope you like it anon!!! thank u again :'')#shisaku #a shared pen

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an-ambivalent · 5 years

Text

Uchiha Therapist: Part I

Synopsis: Yandere! Madara x Reader x Yandere! Sasuke

[Name] is a struggling post graduate psychology student who has more on her plate than she can handle. Between her practicums to gain work experience and writing reports, to trying to maintain a decent lifestyle and look after her own mental health, there is little to no time left to work an actual paying job. Yet, money is essential for survival. So, she does the next best thing that has been trending recently to assure a good paycheck; she becomes a sugar baby. The only thing is, [Name] is unaware that she’s become sugar baby of the Madara Uchiha, the notorious CEO of Uchiha Corporation. She is also unaware of the fact that she’s the therapist of his nephew Sasuke Uchiha, who has begun treading over the professional boundary of a patient, and has started developing an abnormal fixation for his therapist since she seems to be the only one who actually understands him.

Warning: Although this story will come to contain yandere themes that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read, there are no yandere themes present in this chapter. It does have mentions of negative and tiring thoughts that may be triggering. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional and any yandere or other toxic behaviours that may be present in the future, know that I do not condone such behaviour.

Word Count: 4K

Story start; A day in the life of [Name]

On the night that started it all, when [Name] was feeling particularly disheartened and dissatisfied with her life, she had vented her frustrations and sorrow to her good friend Ino Yamanaka. Although many things in her life were going right, and she was privileged enough to have the chance to pursue her wanted career, it came at a cost. Her entire life schedule was fixed around her post graduation studies, other little spared time was for cooking and doing chores, and the rest was for sleeping. [Name] lacked the time for earning money, and doing things that were higher on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs — dating to find someone to create a meaningful connection with, or working on her previous hobbies.

The two friends had been consuming enough booze to be a little more than tipsy but not enough to be drunk. Some words were slurred, the fine motor control had decreased a bit, and with their faces slightly flushed, Ino was convinced that she had the best idea to [Name]’s problems.

Giggling at her own idea, Ino had snatched [Name]’s laptop from in front of them, and tapped various keyboard keys for joogle to search up. Once she saw the results, she clicked on one of the many websites shown as a result, and after a few more minutes of more clicks and keyboard taps, she had turned the laptop towards [Name] to see, with a triumph grin on her face.

“A sugar daddy,” Ino claimed proudly.

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“A sugar daddy — it’s the perfect solution for your troubles. Not only will you get to earn more than enough, it covers the dating aspect too! Someone to spend your time with, to sleep over with — just without getting too attached. You’ll have a social life once again that doesn’t consist of you drinking booze with me or our other friends and you can finally afford to look decent again,” Ino explained straightforwardly.

[Name]’s eye twitched. “What do you mean finally afford to look decent again?” she inquired in a low voice, and glared at Ino, who smiled sheepishly at her.

“Well you’ve been a fashion disaster for sometime now—“

“Sorry I don’t have rich parents like the rest of you to buy me extravagant brands,” [Name] retorted, and a tick mark of anger bulged on Ino’s head.

“Well Sakura is a commoner like you too and even when she was a starving student, she still had a fashion sense. You don’t need to buy something expensive like jucci to look decent!” Ino snapped, and [Name] scowled at her.

“Whatever. This discussion is pointless anyway since I’m not going to become a sugar baby,” [Name] responded, and went to grab a bottle to consume more alcohol. However, the uneasy and anxious expression that Ino wore made her halt amidst her movements. All of a sudden, a cold shiver ran down [Name]’s back, and she felt a sense of dread building up in her gut.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” [Name] pleaded and Ino winced inwardly, before she turned the laptop around to show [Name].

“I did… I already signed you up. You have a date with him this Friday night.”

“INO!”

That was the gist of how [Name] had become entangled in her predicament with Madara Uchiha, and what was meant to be nights for [Name] giving her daddy some casual sugar, turned into an diabetic sugar addiction.

It was baffling really, how as children, people can be better in following orders than they can be as adults. And for someone like [Name], who had been studying psychology for years now, and began to work with the theories, one would think that practicing what she preached would be easier; she was great at helping her clients, but not much at helping herself.

“Make sure you don’t go with strangers” — a lesson that had been engraved in children at school and from their parents for their own safety. It was one of the most basic rules of common sense to evade danger; however, it was the rule [Name] failed to follow. Instead of not going through with her fixed date with a sugar daddy, who was a complete stranger and who knows pose what danger, she had gone through with it. And she had not even taken any caution to have their first meeting in a public place, no. She had gone to his home, which was the only place he accepted for their meeting, because she was too anxious to say no or not go through with it.

She really wondered how she was able to help her clients so well when she could not even manage her own anxiety.

So, now, here she sat. Since by Ino’s definition, [Name] was a walking fashion disaster, the blonde had refused to let her go without her help. Their tastes differed, but even [Name] had to admit that Ino had done an incredible job in helping her choose an outfit that was suited to her tastes. Granted, it was skimpier than what she usually wore and more figure defining, but it did make her look really nice. She did not look like a savage mess with evident dark eyebags who appeared to have just gotten out of bed and went to work straightaway like she did on a daily basis. But she felt exposed and uncomfortable in the setting she was not accustomed to.

The penthouse she had been invited to was extravagantly luxurious; the small dining for the two of them (her and soon to be her sugar daddy) was right next to the giant window in the living room that showed a beautiful night view of the Konoha city. Lighting in the room was ambient and romantic, and there was a small pizza, that looked ridiculously expensive for what it's worth, and red wine settled before her. While she did not want to indulge in such luxury, feeling on the edge of the seat because of how her sugar daddy to be was scrutinizing her with calculating onyx eyes, and never being the one to refuse free food, she mindlessly ate it, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You know, usually you’re supposed to make conversation and sell yourself to try and convince me of why I should stick with you rather than someone else,” Madara spoke, and this was so abrupt and unanticipated on [Name]’s part that she froze half way through biting her food. Her cheeks felt hot in embarrassment, and she awkwardly coughed loudly before looking up at Madara. Although he found her antics to be somewhat adorable, he kept a straight face. After all, to gain the attention of a man of his status, there were many who did the strangest things to appease him. Madara was not a man to be tricked so foolishly.

“Why should I sell myself when you haven’t convinced me to why I should be your….uh, sugar b-baby rather than s-someone else’s?” [Name] responded. She had started off strongly, but near the end when it came to referring to herself as a sugar baby and realisation of the situation sunk in, she felt herself become more flustered.

Now, it was not odd for people to be intimidated by Madara. However, acting in confidence at the same time, and to question his authority, that was new. The corner of his lips twitched upwards in amusement. He leaned back in his chair and raised a fine black eyebrow at [Name].

“And why should I have to sell myself to you? I’m the one who, essentially, is paying for everything,” he challenged, and [Name] scoffed at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s really costing you,” she mumbled under her breath, before clearing her throat. “Someone else can pay me too.”

“You had no reviews on your profile, you’re lucky that I even chose to click on it. Usually, it’s hard to get started since no one bothers with anyone with no reviews.”

[Name] shrugged. “That was your own choice, don’t shift the situation onto me. And besides, how do you know it's only reviews that count online? I might know a lot of other sugar daddies I had in my past that desperately want me but it's lucky that I chose to give you, a stranger, the chance.”

Madara was amused by the fact that [Name] had used his own logic against him, and could not help but smirk. Even though it was more than obvious through her behaviour that she was an absolute newbie to this, he decided to humour her.

"Well, I am an Uchiha," Madara said simply, as if that sole reason explained everything.

[Name] blinked in confusion. "Uhhh, okay…? Well, I'm [Surname]. That explains why you should choose me.”

This time, her response really did leave Madara confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and there was clear confusion written on his face.

“You don’t know the Uchiha?” he asked incredulously. The urge to sigh in an exaggerated manner and snap at him was strong, but [Name] decided against it. With the way he spoke in that condescending tone, and expected [Name] to treat him as if he was of utmost importance, made it more than obvious to her that he was used to being treated as the highest authority. Perhaps he was of importance and not watching herself around him could lead her into a huge mess. But [Name] did not particularly care about his status or whatever he had going on that made him expect her to seemingly kiss the floor he walked on. If she cared about authorities and sucking up to people, then she would not be training to be a therapist in the first place. There were going to be times when she would have to fight authorities and regulations with her sweat and blood for the sake of her clients. And really, if [Name] did care, she would not have been here in the first place -- having dinner with a complete stranger.

“Uh I do?” she said, but it sounded more like a question. Madara opened his mouth to respond to her, but he shifted the focus of the conversation to another topic. He felt even more perplexed by [Name] now because how could she not know the Uchiha?

“Nevermind, it’s not of importance. Tell me, why are you in this line of business? You don’t seem,” fit for it, he wanted to say, but chose his words carefully. “The type to want to do this.”

In response, [Name] felt flustered. She wondered if it was really that obvious that she was not used to it and Madara was simply humouring her. She could very well tell him the truth that it was because Ino had tricked her into it. However, that would make her seem gullible. Now that she may be committing to this, she knew she needed to build a good reputation for herself. She decided to tell the half-truth.

“I need the money,” she answered in a murmur, before she brought the glass of wine to her lips, and took a huge drink from it.

Madara watched her with analytical eyes as she downed her alcohol, taking no moment to savour the taste. He had also noticed how she was on her third plate of their dinner and wondered if she had any decency and how she was capable of eating so much.

“Your job doesn’t pay you enough?” he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, before he followed [Name]’s example and downed his remaining wine in one go too. He had never done that before, and after finishing it, he had to admit there was an odd sense of satisfaction of not savouring its every taste and drinking it all together at once.

Madara was staring at her with anticipation and worry embedded deep in his ebony coloured irides. Frankly speaking, [Name] had not have someone look at her with such concern in a long time. Generally, on the rare occasions she did speak freely about her worries, whoever she shared her problems with would give her their own input rather than simply listening to her and asking her the right questions that would help her discuss or figure out her own problem. The sight of it made her heart beat faster, and she unknowingly found herself talking before she even what she was doing.

“It’s not that… Well, actually I don’t even work. I barely have time to breath, working is my last priority right now,” she murmured, nervously fiddling with her fingers, as she observed Madara from the corner of her eye.

“While I cannot relate to your financial struggles, I understand the situation you’re in. Becoming so busy because of a goal you once had, that you question whether it’s even worth pursuing it anymore. You lose sight of who used to be and the things that brought you pleasure. There’s always something to do that you can’t even remember the last time you truly felt alive,” Madara said thoughtfully, and his words caused [Name]’s eyes to widen.

“And no matter how much you want to try and change things, it just feels like you’ve been stuck in the same cycle and it keeps repeating over and over and over again,” [Name] murmured, sighing dejectedly. “I really hate the world.”

Madara chuckled at her declaration as he lifted another bottle of wine that was on their table.

“Me too. Why don’t we discuss more things we hate about the world and learn about what we in common over more wine?” he suggested. The edge of suspicion and tenseness he held before was no longer present. Instead, he was now feeling much more relaxed than he had in awhile, and felt intrigued about [Name]. The twinkle in his eyes in hopes to talk to her more caused her lips to stretch into a cute flustered smile.

“Sure.”

____________________

It was the week which was like the last and there was no change but stress levels felt higher. Even after a decent ten hours sleep, [Name] felt exhaustion crawling like bugs underneath the epidermis layer of her skin. Dark bags were swelled prominently underneath her eyes. Her hair was tied carelessly in a messy bun that fell to one side; it wasn’t pretty like the one’s beauty gurus showed. It was loose but the knot was tight enough to make the weight of the hair feel too evident with each passing moment. Taking a quick sip from her steaming mocha, she greeted the administrators on the front desk that were the first point of contact between clients and the therapists who worked further back in the office. This office was where [Name] was presently working to gain practice experience in her second practicum. Generally, students in training were simply meant to observe and learn. If permission given by their supervisor, they could step in. But in [Name]’s case, for the sake of the story’s plot, the office she had chosen this time were understaffed. And since she already had finished one practicum and had quite a lot of other experiences from volunteering under her belt, she was trusted to work independently with whatever clients may be assigned to her.

“Good morning Moegi and Konohamaru,” [Name] greeted, and the two looked up from their screens. When they noticed it was [Name], they beamed at her and returned her greeting in response.

“How was your weekend [Name]?” Konohamaru asked, as he handed her the appointment schedule of everyone she would seeing today.

[Name] was ready to give her autopilot response of it being "okay" and then quickly shooting a "how about you" like she usually did. However, before those words left her mouth she paused to ponder: truly, how had her weekend been?

It was okay. Actually, it had been more than okay.

It had surprisingly been a lot of fun. When she had went through with her sugar daddy date, she had somewhat expected that she may end up having sex with a rich man she would not have been attracted to and receive compensation for sleeping with him. But that had not been the case. Madara was quite attractive, and although the dinner date had begun with a few subtle jeers thrown at each other, she had ended up having a good time with him. The fact that she felt safe enough to be vulnerable with him in the way she didn't even feel that level of comfort with her friends, and shared things she hadn't even known she was bottling up - - it was such a profound experience. To go from discussing their hatred for many things, to confessing secrets and feelings they weren't judged for, but rather, listened to, to getting so drunk that they sang cheesy songs and ended the date with their own unplanned karaoke night, it left an odd feeling of satisfaction and joy in [Name]'s chest that she had not felt in a while. The knowledge of knowing that she would be seeing Madara again soon left her feeling embarrassed.

"It was," she began, and she covered her face with one hand to hide her embarrassment. "Really nice and fun. I had a good time," she murmured somewhat quietly. Then, right away, she scurried off towards her office before they could question her further or talk about their own weekends.

[Name] had left Moegi and Konohamaru surprised with her response, and the two turned to each other wondering if they had heard right.

It was after lunch when [Name] was indulging in some [favourite fruit] iced tea, hoping some sugar would help her stay awake when she had an appointment with a client she would be seeing for the first time. She had settled her drink on the table beside her, walked through the hallway, and into the main office with reception and waiting area for clients.

It was there she saw a young man not much older than herself. He had warm ivory skin and black hair bangs that framed his face. The back of his head looked like a duck’s butt. He must have heard her footsteps because before she even called out his name, he had looked up. When her eyes met his, she took a sharp intake of breath because he looked oddly similar to Madara. The way his obsidian eyes scrutinised her made her feel uneasy. Nonetheless, she gave him, what she hoped appeared to be a welcoming and reassuring smile.

“You are Sasuke?” she assumed, and he stood up.

“Hn,” Sasuke responded simply, and at the lack of any greeting or even a facial expression caused [Name] to sweatdrop. But nonetheless, she carried on like she did with all of her patients.

“Before we start your session, did you want anything? A hot chocolate, coffee, water?”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at this before he replied nonchalantly. “A black coffee.”

[Name] nodded and just before she could speak once more, a head of messy black curls invaded her vision and she was greeted with a smile that was almost too falsely cheerie for her taste.

“Hello! I’m Shisui, Sasuke’s cousin. And stoic face over there is Itachi, Sasuke’s brother. You forgot about us Miss. Therapist,” Shisui greeted brightly. At his exuberant persona, Sasuke glared at him. The one who he had introduced as Itachi, sighed, and [Name] looked at them apologetically.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t notice you. Can I get anything for you as well? If you’ve been with Sasuke until this point, I can assume you’ll be staying with him.”

Itachi nodded and stepped up front and held out his hand for [Name] to shake, which she obliged to almost instantly.

“Yes. We are here to oversee my little brother’s recovery at my Father’s orders and make sure there is progress,” he explained simply. His words were harsh. It was evident in the way Shisui had become tight lipped, and how Sasuke had now averted his glare onto Itachi. [Name]’s eyes shifted to observe their reaction and then returned to Itachi who was looking at her stoically. It wasn’t too obvious. However, she noticed with the way Itachi’s jaw was clenched more tightly than it had been before. This change in his body language clearly indicated that he had not wanted to say what he did and he did not want to be here. And from the intense glare Sasuke regarded him with, [Name] safely assumed that whatever was going on with Sasuke, Itachi seemed to be a part of it. Underneath Itachi’s pretty eyes, she noticed a sense of tiredness that was all — physical, mental, emotional and more. She saw that same sense of exhaustion on her own face each day.

The session had not even started and this was already turning out to become so complicated. [Name] hoped she would still have her sanity by the time she graduated and came to do this full-time. There were some of her colleagues who never bothered with rules or following basic procedures to assure their clients comfort and wellbeing. Lucky for her clients, she did. And when she needed to, she would bend over backwards and willingly go beyond her capabilities for them.

She knew from the way they all held themselves, and particularly with how Itachi had spoken that they were of important status. Their ‘father asked [them] to be here’ was a subtle way of implying that she could get in huge trouble if she did not comply with them. But [Name] just didn’t care.

She turned to Sasuke with a stern look on her face and motioned towards Shisui and Itachi.

“Do you want them there to support you or would you feel more comfortable with just you? Either way is fine. It’s your decision,” [Name] said smiling at him.

The three raven-haired males that had been introducing themselves moments ago stilled and their eyes widened in shock. Shisui was the first one to snap out of it.

“Uh, Miss. Therapist, I don’t think you know—“

“I know what I’m doing. Please refrain from implying such things and let my client decide for himself,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes. Shisui went to warn once more, but he was stopped by Itachi, who shook his head.

Itachi’s gaze went to Sasuke, and then back to [Name] as he spoke.

“I’m sure she knows what she is doing. We all wish for Sasuke’s wellbeing. We won’t intrude if he doesn’t want us to,” he proclaimed. That was his way of hinting for Shisui to drop the subject, and reassuring both Sasuke and [Name] that he was on their side, particularly with Sasuke, letting him know that he would not let their father find this out.

“Aniki,” Sasuke murmured in disbelief, staring at his brother for a few moments. Then, he looked back at [Name] to see she was still giving him the same sweet and gentle smile she had greeted him with.

Maybe, perhaps, this time, signing up for therapy would be worth it. Maybe he could allow himself to talk to her and not fear judgement and consequences like he had with his previous therapists.

“I’d like it to be by myself,” he murmured, looking away from her with slight pink cheeks. As his eyes had drifted away from hers and met Shisui’s, who gave him a warning look, his shoulders tensed and his eyes snapped back to [Name] right away. “P-Please and t-thank you.”

He did not need to glance at Shisui again to know the oldest male was now grinning at him.

Seemingly, his politeness seemed to be unexpected and Sasuke wanted to scoff at how [Name]’s eyes had lit up in pride. It almost annoyed him because did they really think he was that dimwitted?

“You’re welcome. Now, follow me please. Shisui and Itachi, our session will be around an hour so you can come to pick him up in that time,” [Name] said. The two of them nodded and waved the two goodbye as Sasuke followed after [Name] to her office.

-------

A/N: (tbh, uhhh, I plan for this to be a yandere story [whispers: eventually] but this chapter is fluffy. I honestly don’t know where I’m going with this or if I’ll add more Uchihas as love interests and turn into a reverse harem for [Name], I’m gonna make shit up as I go along and hope it turns into something decent lol gang gang. I just need to write a story I can write without worries and just enjoy the process of it rather than caring about where it leads. So yeet. I hope you join me on this journey <3)

#yandere x reader #yandere sasuke #yandere naruto #yandere madara #naruto #madara x reader #sasuke x reader #naruto x reader #uchiha x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #possessive #sasuke uchiha #madara uchiha #ambivalent writes #uchiha therapist part 1

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strangeinternetwasteland · 4 years

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Briar- Chapter 1

Authors note: I would like to thank @madaras-housewife for her help with this chapter! You’re amazing and you’re insight is always welcome!

Two things Briar knew for sure were: 1. She loved the feeling of the sun’s rays on her skin, the way the sun always seemed to embrace her; and 2. Writing or being creative can be a pain in the ass. Especially, if she was having writer’s block. Which, as it had happened, was her current misfortune. Last week had been a breeze with uncomplicated thoughts. Everything came out as naturally as water flows. Conversely, this week everything was stopped up like a dam. No, a dam had a trickle at least, or some water was able to flow freely.

Briar muttered curses underneath her breath. The many things she had tried to activate whatever power her brain had in her writing processes ceased to work. Today, she decided, rather impulsively, that a walk in the forest just outside the village is what was needed to open up those creative passages within her brain, or so she thought.

After a bit of walking among the trees, Briar found a rather smoothed out, but large boulder to perch herself upon.

“What can I write about here?” She mused aloud. “The lush forest? No. The way the leaves scatter the sun on the forest floor? Nope. Sunshine against my skin? No way. The way the wind plays with my hair? Absolutely not. None of this was useful at all!” He deliberated with herself. “I am...exasperated? Frustrated? Defeated? Yes, I feel defeated with this.” She said rather angrily as she got off the boulder and stomped away from the spot she currently inhabited.

“WHY CAN’T YOU WORK TODAY?!?!?” She yelled into the forest. She was frustrated but continued on her journey to nowhere while looking for inspiration.

After a bit more walking and pondering why she was having such bad writer’s block, Briar decided to soak up some of the springtime sun’s rays. She laid down on the ground noting it wasn’t as hard as it normally would’ve felt. Briar shut her eyes enjoying the songs and chirps of the birds and the soft rustle of the wind.

She felt the tension in her body slowly leaving and felt her body relax upon the soft grass dotted with canola and narcissi flowers. Not too long after, Briar felt a presence close by.

She popped her eyes open and jolted herself upright. Scanning the area, she didn’t see anybody, but she certainly felt them. A rustle in the bushes gave away their location. Briar stood up feeling frightened she was getting ready to run if she deemed it necessary.

“I am sorry if I have spooked you.” said a voice. Briar contemplated running at this moment, but just then he appeared. “ I mean you no harm, honestly.” He continued. Briar knew that he could be trusted. Perhaps it was the fact that he seemed mature with the lines under his eyes or the fact that she instantly recognized the face of Itachi Uchiha. He always carried himself well.

“I know.” Briar finally said. Itachi gave a small smile. The air around them seemed to have grown heavy and it left Briar gasping for air.

A look of concern crossed Itachi’s pale face. He took small steps toward Briar, trying to judge if it was allowed by her. Briar stood trying to catch her breath but felt like she was drowning on air. Itachi had slowly made his way over to stand next to Briar. It seemed as if Briar was in great distress to Itachi and he wouldn’t leave her alone if she needed help. After a few deep breaths, Briar’s breathing had evened out.

“I am fine,” Briar stated, realizing that Itachi hadn’t moved away from her at all. He carefully watched her, in case of any more distress. “I am okay.” She said, not sure if he had heard her at all

“I heard shouting a bit ago, and wanted to make sure all was alright.” He eyed Briar carefully trying to gauge her.

“Oh, yeah sorry. I was just feeling it” Briar said feeling embarrassed in front of the Uchiha.

Itachi moved to sit down on the ground, looking up at Briar he asked, “Would you like to talk about it?”

There was something so sweet about Itachi. He was polite and he seemed genuine with his words. Briar had heard about Itachi, he was a prodigy of the Uchiha clan and was well-loved by most of the village. His looks probably helped a bit as well. Briar felt utterly abominable in his presence. She had met him last year while working on a project with Sasuke. Briar wondered if he even remembered meeting then.

“No. That’s okay. I don’t want to bother you or take up any more of your time. I don’t deserve that.” Briar said dejectedly.

Itachi offered a smile, “ Why would you think that?”

Briar’s breath hitched when she saw the smile on his face. She couldn’t believe that he was even talking to her. He wasn’t as cold as the other members of his clan.

“I just do.” Briar retorted defensively.

“Well, then if you don’t want to talk about it, then would it be alright if we just sat down and enjoyed the sunshine then?” He countered.

This felt like a dream for Briar. Here sat Itachi, the man she crushed on for what seemed like her whole life, and he wanted to spend time with her. Her heart and stomach fluttered. “Alright.” She agreed and sat down facing the man.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Briar was deep in her own thoughts when Itachi spoke.

“You remind me of Sasuke. Stubborn, and wanting to do everything on your own, not accepting help when it’s given to you.”

“You mean annoying?” Briar responded.

“No, not at all. You know, I don’t know what is bothering you. I do know that whatever it is, though, that keeping it locked away won’t solve the problem. I can listen and only offer advice if it’s wanted.” Itachi countered.

This displeased Briar immensely, she didn’t want to be seen as a little kid to Itachi, but she didn’t want to feel like a burden either. It was quite the predicament she had found herself in. She really did want to tell Itachi about her issue, but she didn’t want him to feel like she was some complete stranger ranting about nothing that really mattered to him.

“Well.... I guess I am just at a loss.” Briar chose her words carefully not wanting to give away too much or overload Itachi.

Itachi just sat there giving her a gentle smile, waiting for her to speak more.

“I am working on this project for school and I cannot finish it. I mean it’s for finals and it isn’t due for another week, but, I can’t procrastinate. Everything was fine last week, and this week nothing is working. My brain won’t cooperate. I am frustrated, and here you are listening to a complete stranger who is an idiot ramble on about stupid problems. I don’t know what to do.”

“First of all, finals week is awful. Secondly, Writing is a process, it is like the ocean, it ebbs and flows with the tides. Writing comes as goes, even the best writers get blocked from time to time. Third, we’re not complete strangers. We met last year when you were working on a project for business class with Sasuke.” He chuckled as if remembering something. “You locked your keys in your car. I gave you a ride home to get your spare.”

Briar felt her face burning with embarrassment and cursed herself again for being so stupid. Of course, he remembered meeting her, she was just a nuisance to Sasuke. In that moment of reflection, Itachi leaned forward with two fingers extended and poked Briar in the forehead. It stupified her long enough for her to not notice that he slipped a piece of paper on Briar’s lap and walk away.

Briar coming back from reality quickly looked around for Itachi. Only to look down to find a piece of paper with neat handwriting scrawled on it including Itachi’s name, phone number, and a note saying don’t be a stranger. Suddenly, Briar got up and knew exactly what the subject of her final was to be.

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader

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olliya · 5 years

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How popular is MadaSaku in context of other Madara’s and Sakura’s ships? Part 1

@madasakuweek

For MadaSaku Weekend, in addition to fics, I wanted to make something different, something that always interested me. Wait for it, wait for it… statistics!! Ok, I know that this post has just lost 90% of readers this very second. Lol.

I’m not a popular author, but even I tend to get messages “why do you write madasaku, no one wants to read it anyway”. Organizing this event was a huge effort from the side of @purple-possibilities (thank you for that!!) and spurred me to look into the question just how popular MadaSaku really is?

I will break down this analysis into 3 parts: AO3 (coming today), ffnet, and an attempt on counting the real number of MadaSaku works (not so trivial).

I decided to write it in a really scientific (i.e. stiff, boring and indigestible for most) style in order to describe all my steps as accurately as possible. Every method of analysis has its limitations, biases and certain number of false positives and negatives that it generates. But I aim to describe everything precisely and point out all the weak points. This analysis was done as objectively as possible, and if there are any inaccuracies, I am more than happy to correct them.

With this preamble, let’s dive in!

Let’s start with AO3, because it is supposed to be easier thanks to the tagging system. The key word is, unfortunately, “supposed to”, because since I cannot write data-scraping scripts, I had to approach the problem manually.

The section below contains a detailed description of methods used. If you’re not interested in technical details, skip to Results.

Methods

After choosing a character, a menu appears on the righthand side of the page that allows the user to choose ratings, categories, etc. The same menu allows to see which relationships appear most frequently in the context of the chosen character (example shown in Figure 1.)

Attention: This menu doesn’t provide with neither Top Ten most popular ship for a given character nor with actual number of any of the ships listed, because:

a) Many ships listed in the menu involve platonic pairings (“&” relationships according to AO3 nomenclature) and while one can argue whether those are ships or not, the aim of this analysis was to find the prevalence of romantic ships.

b) Many ships listed involve characters different than the character of interest. For example: Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito is the third most popular pairing written in the fics that contain Uchiha Madara as a character.

c) Not every author tags character in question when tagging him/her as part of a ship. For example: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara features in the above menu with 1173 fics (at the moment of writing this text). When the ship “Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara” is chosen through clicking into the tag, AO3 provides us with 1250 fic. I.e. in case of 77 MadaTobi fics, Uchiha Madara was not tagged as a character. Therefore, to obtain the real numbers of fics for any given pairing, one has to always click directly into ship tag.

The ships listed in the righthand menu can nevertheless provide orientation and hints about which ships should be inspected manually in order to get true number of fics for a given ship.

In case of Uchiha Madara the menu features only three romantic ships involving Madara, namely:

Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara

Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara

Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara

How to find out more ships featuring Madara?

I tried two approaches:

Method 1

I excluded one relationship from the list of ten most popular and iterated the search excluding the first most popular relationship only, the second most popular relationship only, and so on, together 10 searches.

During every search I noted the “new” romantic relationships involving Madara that popped up in the list.

In the second step, I excluded 2 most popular relationships simultaneously and again, searched all possible combinations, together 45 searches because it is combination without repetitions:

Again, during every search I noted the “new” romantic relationships involving Madara that popped up in the list.

When excluding 3 relationships I would need to perform 120 searches to cover all combinations. Therefore, I limited myself with searches: excluding 1st, 2nd and 3rd ship; excluding 1st, 2nd and 4th ship; excluding 1st, 2nd and 5th ship; etc.

All things taken together, this method proved to be very laborious, and didn’t bring expected results, i.e. “new” romantic relationships were showing up very rarely in relation to the workload.

Therefore, a different method was employed:

Method 2

I excluded increasing number of ships from the list of ten most popular relationships. I.e. I excluded 1st most popular ship and checked for appearance of “new” ships. Then I excluded first two most popular relationships (1st and 2nd) and checked for “new” ships, then excluded 1st, 2nd and 3rd most popular ships etc…

This method proved to be both efficient (i.e. new ships appear relatively quickly in respect to the workload) and much less error-prone.

This was therefore the method of choice for this analysis.

Figure 2. illustrates an example where the most popular ship (Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara) was excluded (Figure 2.a.) and a new ship (Uchiha Izuna/Uchiha Madara) appeared during the search. (Figure 2.b.)

Table 1 summarizes the romantic ships of Uchiha Madara found using Method 2. Data was collected on 22.10.2019. 40 most popular relationships written in context of Uchiha Madara were excluded sequentially, and new ships were noted in order of their appearance. The searches that didn’t brought any new romantic ship involving Uchiha Madara were omitted from Table 1. (for example: excluding 1st and 2nd most popular relationships didn’t bring any new romantic ship for Madara, therefore this search was not listed in the Table 1.).

Disclaimer: the order of appearance in Table 1. doesn’t necessarily reflect the ship’s popularity. Because of the fact that the list is composed using ‘exclude’ filter, the order of appearance is heavily influenced by which pairings are written together with which other pairing (as AO3 allows tagging multiple ships in one fic).

The list of ships in Table 1. was used to obtain final, numerical results for popularity of the ships of Uchiha Madara (see: Results).

Additionally, I manually checked popularity of several other Madara’s ships, and two of them (with Pein and with Kakuzu) ended up scoring high enough to be included in final results.

Same approach was used to find most popular ships of Haruno Sakura.

Sakura’s righthand menu lists 5 romantic ship involving Sakura herself, namely:

Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke

Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi

Haruno Sakura/Uzumaki Naruto

Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino

Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi

To find further ships for Haruno Sakura I employed Method 2 as described above. Table 2 summarizes the results.

Additionally, other ships of Sakura where manually examined, and ships with Senju Tobirama and Uchiha Obito scored high enough to be included in final results.

Limitations of the used method

The employed method of searching for popular ship has its limitations. Due to the mechanism of finding the ships to check for popularity (usage of ‘exclude filter’) it cannot be excluded that certain ships have been overlooked. Four such cases were actually detected through manual checks: Method 2 failed to show Madara/Pein and Madara/Kakuzu as ships qualified for checking for actual fic number, but when those ships were checked, their respective fic number was high enough to earn them 14th and 17th places among Madara’s most popular ships (see: Results). Haruno Sakura/Senju Tobirama and Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Obito scored high enough to be Sakura’s 20th and 21st most popular ship even though neither was detected via Method 2. This is entirely possible that certain other ships remained ‘undetected’ and therefore not included in the final results, but the risk of non-detection concerns mostly the less-prominent ships.

Due to AO3 tagging system, if a ship is tagged as “background” or “past” it will also be detected, and not differentiated from proper shipping fics. Possibility of tagging multiple ships in one fic causes collections of multishipping fics to be counted multiple times (which skews the numbers when percentages are concerned - see Figures 5 and 6). From this perspective, the relatively meager tagging system of fanfiction.net brings cleaner results.

Results

Numerical values of fic numbers for every given ship were collected on 26.12.2019.

Romantic ships of Uchiha Madara are shown in Figure 3.

Romantic ships of Haruno Sakura are shown in Figure 4.

Discussion

Sakura is the third most popular Madara’s ship partner, and his most popular F/M ship, however it lags far behind the more popular “Founders Cluster” ships. Sakura is by far most popular F/M ship of Madara, next being OFC with 54 fic and Mito with 34 fics.

Madara’s fics are very focused on ships with few partners (Tobirama, Hashirama and Sakura), to the extend that various “exotic” ships rank high enough to appear in this breakdown (OC with 101 fics, OFC with 54, Reader with 41 and Harry Potter (LOL) with 10 fics).

Madara is Sakura’s eighth most popular ship partner (or seventh if you don’t count the polyship Sakura/Sasuke/Naruto as both Sasuke and Naruto feature already on the list as separate ship partners). One has to take into account that Madara appeared on-panel in February 2008 (i.e. almost 9 years after Naruto started publishing) and in person in the story in October 2011 (12 years after start of publishing). Nevertheless, MadaSaku accumulated more fics than many characters with much longer on-panel time, and that even though Madara is considered villain of the story.

When one takes under consideration the total number of Uchiha Madara fics (3913 at the point of writing this text) and Haruno Sakura (13397) it turns that MadaSaku fics form 5,3% of all Madara’s fics and 1,6% of all Sakura’s fics (Figures 5. and 6.).

It is surprising that Sakura, being famously (and infamously) shippable character, has as much as almost 40% of fics where she is not part of a romantic pair. Such high percentage of “other fics” may also mean that she is part of great number of very rare ships that were not investigated in this analysis (the analysis was stopped after excluding 40 most popular ships).

Outlook

Employing a direct data-scraping script would eliminate risks of non-detecting of certain ships. Such script would potentially also allow to examine ship’s popularity development over time.

Since this analysis was done before MadaSaku Weekend, it will be interesting to re-examine the data some time after the event to see if our participation influenced the popularity of the ship.

OK, so who managed to the end??? No one? So I thought, lol

#madasaku #multisaku #fandom statistics #madasakuweekend2019 #naruto stats

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writer-and-artist27 · 5 years

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my muse chucked this at me after 1 and a half cup of cappuccinos ; a juubi jinchuuriki that's neither madara or obito with a bo staff and a grass hook sickle in each hand suddenly materializing in Nagareboshi Cafe next to Tomoko playing the piano pre/post october tenth. They just blinked slowly at Tomoko before going "Howdy do, Vy-Tomo. Please, can I've a song request?" as the area surrounding them descends into chaos.

“I can’t really give you the context because it’s caffeine-fueled creativity, but uh, an Uchiha SI-OC with Sasuke & Naruto as their significant others nearly dies(hell, maybe they did die) during the 4th Great Shinobi War, somehow taking the Juubi with them, their parting words being “I’d endure a thousand billion universe and timelines if that’s what it takes to be by your sides again.”.

Someone/thing heard them and boom, welcome to angst hell territory.’S not quite reincarnation, they just woke up in another universe, takes down Black Zetsu and/or takes the Gedo Mazou for safekeeping, changes a few/lot of other things to ensure a relatively happy ending for the universes’ inhabitants, takes nap only to wake up in another universe and thus repeating the whole process over again. And again. And again. And again.“

——————————–

…How am I supposed to respond to this?

I want to say something, but… (sighs).

Maelstrom. You’re sweet and I get that you didn’t mean anything. Unfortunately, just mentioning the Juubi alone in this kind of context just reminds of how the canonical 4th Great Shinobi War Arc was shit to me.

No offense intended to your idea, Maelstrom, it is interesting and totally up your ball field if you wanted to write that, I’m not gonna stop you. But the reason why I didn’t start in that kind of route for Tomoko and my writing to begin with was because I didn’t want to make the stakes seem almost non-existent with so much power. Your pitch is certainly suspenseful, but it seems like some people have tried to attempt this before on FFN, at least last I checked, and I don’t know what to make of it. It’d have to be really well-thought out and well written for it to work, and I’m hesitant on letting Tomoko be in that kind of idea to begin with because I personally don’t like this kind of set up. Again, no offense intended to you, it’s just me and not liking this kind of thing. Not to mention I’ve seen Uchiha SI-OCs in other stories and I’m just skeptical.

The original Naruto canon went down that power and non-existent stakes route with the War arc PLUS Boruto with their watering down of characters and so on, and right now? I like to pretend that the latter doesn’t exist. As Leo put it nicely in a recent phone call, “THE CHUNIN EXAMS ARC WAS THE LAST TIME WE SAW ACTUAL STRATEGY BEING USED.” And well, even if I don’t use those exact words, it does feel like that once the creative fights from Part 1 devolved into “throwing B, A, and S-rank jutsus around like candy” in Part 2 without any repercussions.

Tomoko is a civilian because I saw way too many SI-OCs who went the ninja route and nearly dropped into “angst hell territory” to the point where I found it hard to care for the protagonists in general. Hell, one of the reasons why I love Kei and @dosbysilverqueen‘s Shikako so much is because they have consequences for all their “amazing ninja” powers and still have time to joke around and have fun with their friends. They’re dorks and they have the most hope I’ve seen out of any ninja protags.

This OC set-up on the other hand… Again, no offense intended. I wanted to go about this in a nicer word set up. This entire thing is starting to make me sympathize with when Ty was teaching me, and I hate that feeling. Plus, I’m still honored that you wanted to share this with me, Maelstrom. But this is throwing off all my worry bells and I’m just plain disturbed more than honored right now. Because this seems just plain world-breaking, more so than guns appearing in the Boruto manga, and it seems hard to write on my end of the opinion spectrum.

Not to mention, if someone just addressed Tomoko like “Vy-Tomo,” you’d either freakin’ trigger her because you made her severely uncomfortable to the point of remembering her past fucking death if you weren’t Kei or Otoha who knew her already, or throw fire into her self-defense mechanisms and she’d be pointing her Wayfinder chakra blade right in your freakin’ face. No one but Hisako and her reincarnation buddies should know her past self’s name. And there’s such a thing as “bad first impressions.”

#maelstrom kat #asks #writer thoughts #why I hate Naruto canon #hoshino tomoko #oc things #maelstrom-kat #tw: trigger mention #long post #tw: long post #not feeling comfortable with this

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queencatherynerhys · 6 years

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The Fighter - Prologue The Selection Series

A/N:So I have been obsessed with The Selection Series for a while. I really encourage you to read it if you want to really dive into this story. I love the love story of Maxon and America. They are just so perfect for each other and they truly bring the best out of each other as all love pairings should be. All rights and character, except the ones I created, belong to Kiera Cass. Sorry I just added my normal tag list. If you don’t want to read it because it’s not a Choices Fanfic I understand. This idea has just been gnawing at me so much lately that I needed to write it so I can release and I can sleep! I would appreciate some feedback though. Only if you’d like to leave one.

Summary: Six years ago, America braved through the Engagement of the prince of Illéa and the love of her life, Prince Maxon, to another woman, Kriss Ambers. She watched as they built a life as she sold her self to the devil. Six years ago, America Singer died and Scarlet Ryan was born.

Tag List: @kinkykingliam @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @writtenbycandy @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @drakelover78 @indiacater @pens-girl-87 @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @zilch3 @mynameiskaylabella @darley1101 @scarlettedragon @blznbaby

Parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

I jolt awake, sweat beads on my temple. It has been six years, yet I am still haunted by my past. Six years and I am still dreaming the same dream. Six years and I still dream of the life I always imagined with the one who once was the love of my life, Maxon Schreave. A life of happiness, laughter, children and blissful love.

I blink the tears that had started forming in the corners of my eyes. I consciously push the ghosts that tried to resurrect themselves. My perception adjusts to the darkness of my suite. I live a rather comfortable life, a life that I have earned through hard work and impossible choices.

I look to the miniature clock on my nightstand and it read 4:05am. I know I was too awake to even try to go back to sleep so I decide to get ready for the day. I take a shower and decide to take breakfast on the go.

Never in my life did I think I would ever own a car but being in my position allowed me amenities I never took for granted like cars, houses, food. I hop in my car and drive the half hour commute to work. I decided a while ago that I would live close enough to work, but still distant so I can have a sense of freedom. Although, I knew freedom wasn’t in the cards anymore. It hasn’t been in six years.

As I step out of the vehicle, a cold winter blast whips my face and I tighten the coat over me. I briskly make my way to the tall building and swipe my key card to let myself in. I make my way to the elevator and punch the up button. Once inside I swipe my key card again and punch the button that led to the private office at the top.

As I arrive in the office, I am still struck with awe that it’s mine. When I was recruited six years ago, I never thought that I would be a leader of any organization yet her I am with my own name on a desk that read Scarlet Ryan, Director. It wasn’t my intention to become the Director, but it was clear that I was the more qualified to take over after my predecessor died.

I settle into my chair and decide to eat my breakfast as I looks through the files that needs to be approved. I admit to myself that I miss being in the field. My fiery disposition didn’t like being confined to a desk job, but I will myself that this was where I need to be.

As I poured myself into the papers in front of me, I am startled by a deep voice, “Working early, I see.”

I look up and see my assistant, James, standing in the middle of my office with a smirk on his face.

“What can I say? I am a workaholic,” I reply.

“Scarlet, I’m starting to worry about you. More than half the days of the week you are in here early and you are always the last to leave. Are you sure you are ok with all of this? I know being thrust into the responsibilities of Director can be overwhelming, but you need to take care of yourself.”

I roll my eyes jokingly and huff, “I’m fine, James. If I can’t handle a little stress and sleep deprivation, then I should look for another profession. You worry too much.”

I know that his worry comes from a genuine place. We have depended on each for a long time. When the board, a group of other prestigious albeit retired agents, gathered and offered me the position, I was tasked of finding an assistant and I couldn’t think of anyone better than James. He has had my back since we were fledglings trying to find our footing in the vast agency that we had gotten recruited into and I have had his. We have saved each other from countless times of near-death experiences. We have a silent language that only the two of us understood and I knew that I would need that when I accepted the role thrust upon me.

After we graduated as recruits, we became partners, traveling on missions and became friends and confidantes. We found out our stories were similar to each other. Each trying to escape ghosts that haunted us. He was the only one aside from the board to know my true identity as I was the only one that truly knew his.

“America, am I wrong to worry?” I look up at him, clearly seeing the frustration buried between his eyes. I know he is truly agitated when he calls me by that name. That name that I desperately tried to suppress. The name that tries to claw out of the box that I had tucked away in the deepest, darkest pits of my heart and mind.

If I was more well-rested and coherent, I would have been able to stop herself from reliving my memories as America Singer, the 17-year old girl who was swept up by the Selection.

The Selection was a competition in the land of Illéa. A competition for the royal prince to find a wife as he came of age. I, America, never wanted to be a part of it. I was already in love with a boy named Aspen. He was everything to me then, but we were forced to hide our relationship because of the caste system in Illéa and the curfew rules. The caste was a way to organize the population. The royal family is a One. I was a Five. I was born into a family of artists and musicians. I adored my family. I never had much since jobs for artistes were scarce and often seasonal. We had to struggle for food. There were times that we had to suffer the winters of Carolina because we chose food over electricity because there was not enough money for both. Aspen was a Six, jobs were even more seldom. He often worked too hard to provide food for his big family leaving him with nothing. So, when we met in the special place, the treehouse, the middle of the night when the rest of the world was asleep, often I would bring my tiny rations of leftovers from dinner.

When the Selection came around, I promptly said no to signing up but Aspen had convinced me to do so saying that he would never forgive himself if he stopped me from an opportunity that could turn my life around. So, he made me promise that I would and I didn’t have it in me to say no. Besides we both thought the chances of me being actually selected was next to nothing. My mother was adamant about me signing up. She was all about elevating her children to higher castes. Even better, in order to get me to sign up for the ridiculous competition she bribed me by allowing me to keep half of the wages I earned from singing and other jobs. Finally, I would be able to earn and save money so I could marry Aspen.

To celebrate, I cooked a feast and brought some it to the treehouse but instead of being happy Aspen’s pride ruined our relationship. He had ended it with me because of his pride. He knew he would never be able to provide for me. I pleaded that he not go. WhenI, by fate or other influences, was selected to represent Carolina in the Selection, I used it as a a way to provide for my family as they will be compensated for my representation and to get away from Aspen. Just before I left, I saw him in the arms of another girl and that broke me. Little did I know that I was actually into the wildest twist of my life.

I never thought I could love anyone like I loved Aspen, but Maxon surprised me. He was persistent, to say the least. One of the many traits that made me fall deeply in love with him. He was caring. He was genuine. He repaired my broken heart and kept his promises. He was the happiness I never expected to find in the beautiful cage that was the palace.

Before I even realized, I had fallen completely in love with the Prince. When he saw me saying goodbye to Aspen in the palace. He mistook it for betrayal when he realized that Aspen was the boy I was running away from back in Carolina. He didn’t let me explain to him what happened and he will never know the truth. I relived the Engagement Day in her head.

How cold he was to me when hours and days ago he had been my Maxon, caring and loving. He told me I was the One. He was going to propose to me. We were going to finally have the happily ever after we have dreamed of. The moments before the event shaped the rest of my life and set me on a path I never thought possible. It was my first of many impossible choices I had to make.

I was aware of the rebels and their continued advance to destroy the monarchy. There were two divisions: The Northerners and the Southerners. While the Northerners were more peaceful with their attacks only seeking to stop the Southerners from collapsing the country, the Southerners were ruthless, deadly murderers. They showed no mercy in their attacks.

When I was getting ready for the event where I would have to watch the love of my life declare his desire to marry another, I was pulled aside by a rather large statured man. He was in a fine black suit, nothing special stood out about him yet he was imposing as can be.

When we were in private, he voiced the reason he came to me.

“Lady Singer, we have been watching you for quite some time. My name is Allen. I must say you’ve made quite a stir with your statements in the Report about dissolving the caste system. It really seems that you are a woman that wants change. What if I told you I can provide you the way to do so?” he asks me.

My curiosity got the best of me and I replied with a question to allow him to explain more, “what do you mean?”

“Well, to start. Our agency has received new intel that the Southerners are staging an attack during the event. I can promise that if you give us your allegiance that we will guarantee the protection of the one you love the most. He will remain safe for the remainder of his life. If you join us you can join the cause to balance the country, to protect the ones you love from these attacks and allow them the life they rightly deserve,” he explained.

“It couldn’t be that easy. What is the price?” I wasn’t that naïve to think that it was only my allegiance that he, they, seek.

“Ah, truly nothing gets by you. The price is your life. America Singer will cease to exist. Your family will be told that you died. We will have the perfect opportunity to fake your death here. No one can ever know that you are alive. We will tell them that you had been taken and killed by the Southerners, but instead you will be taken by one of us and start your life as a member of our agency. In the grand picture, just think it’s your life for theirs. Would you sacrifice your life and your happiness for the sake of the ones that you love?”

That wasn’t even a question I needed to answer out loud because I already knew the answer. Yes. Yes, I would. But to fake my death. To allow my family to live through that heartache of losing another loved one. My father just died of a heart attack. How will they fare with the knowledge of another loss? What would become of them?

“How long do I have to decide?”

He squinted as he contemplated the inquiry. I could tell that he wasn’t used to the idea of allowing time to make a decision, but he answered, “You have till before the event begins. Find me in the crowd and signal me your answer.”

With that, he left me to my thoughts. I couldn’t fathom what I have been told. Southerners are here. I was scared, but not for my own safety, for Maxon’s. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to him in what was about to come all the while knowing there was a way I could guarantee him a long, happy life. No, I couldn’t do that. I would never be able to forgive myself.

Silvia came around the corner interrupting my train of thoughts, “There you are! Goodness, it’s time for you to take your place. The event is to start in five minutes!” She pushed me back down to the Great Room where everyone has gathered. There was a table where Maxon and Kriss occupied already. I took my place beside Maxon and looked as he chatted with Kriss, the other Elite. Their conversation was light hearted and he seemed happy enough. I realized I wanted him to always be like that, to have a chance at the normal life he wanted and longed for. I knew then what I needed to do make sure that happened. True love requires sacrifice and the love I have for him was as true as it can be. I looked in the room. King Clarkson and Queen Amberly, the parents of Maxon, sat near us. The other 33 selected girls not too far from the made-up stage. The rest are spectators, reporter, camera crews and guards ready to see their beloved Prince announce who will be his wife. I scanned the room to find Allen when Maxon spoke.

“Trying to arrange a time to meet later?”

He spoke with so much iciness. So cold, how could he be so cold to me. I deserved it. This way it would make it easier to go through with my choice.

“No, of course not.” It was the truth. Little did he know that I was about to sell my soul away. The worst part was that he would never know that I did it for him. When I found him in the crowd, our eyes met and I gave the tiniest nod. I barely registered the faint signal myself, but I knew he received the message when he reciprocated the gesture. It was done. There was no turning back. In a few minutes the chaos will begin, but Maxon will be safe. He will never be mine, so I figured I would declare my feelings one last time.

“I love you, Maxon. Please, don’t forget it,” I whispered, pain and grief in my heart.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” he replies through gritted teeth. He hated me. In that moment, I knew he hated me. I closed my eyes as my soul caved within me, breaking and shattering from the loss I felt. The last thing I heard him say was, “I’ll be glad when you’re gone.”

When the chaos started, screams filled my ears, but I concentrated on the task ahead of me: finding the man I needed to. There he was a calm figure through the panic that was surrounding us and he walked towards me all the while he was speaking through a radio. Maxon yells at Kriss to get down on the ground. When I looked back, a guard had grabbed me and dragged me away. He was dressed as rebel with a red ribbon tied to his uniform. I screamed and squirmed in his arms but he was too strong.

My instinct was to fight back, but the guard whispered in my ear. “I’m with the agency, Miss. I was told to tell you to make it look real.”

As if on cue, I let my natural instinct fly off the handle. “Let go of me, you insolent bastard!” I elbowed him on the face. “Maxon!” I yelled his name one last time as his view became farther away from me. I needed to see his face one last time. One last time.

He stood up from his hiding place under the table. I knew he never found me through the flurry of movements in the room, but I saw him. I saw the desperation as he looked for me. The last that I saw before the door closed and I was whisked away to start my life as a recruit of the agency. The agency called the Illéan Secret Defense Force. It was the day that America Singer was no more and Scarlet Ryan was born. I became the best fighter, agent and now I am the director of the Force. I became the best for him. As long as I lived, he was safe.

“America… America… America!!” James exclaims, trying to pull my attention back.

“Sorry, just went down memory lane, I guess,” I apologized for getting distracted.

“Are you truly ok?” he asks me again.

“I am fine, James, and please stop calling me that,” I sigh, exasperated from the encounter and mostly the memories that flooded me. “Let’s just get to work, yeah?”

For the next two hours I pour myself into the paperwork. Since the Engagement Day, I had worked hard to make it so that Maxon could live his days in peace. I became the best because I was fearless. I cut down through the rebels destroying them from within. It has been a rather peaceful time in Illéa, a rarity in itself. I took pride in that. I had done something worthwhile with my life. There were still a few attacks from small groups of rebels that have survived the eradication, but none that made an impact because of my agency that lived in the shadows. We are the agency that protects the country but no one knows. We hide in plain sight and we prefer it that way.

As I worked, James’ phone rang. I watch as he spoke to whoever was on the other line. He handled all the calls that were important and this one seemed to take the cake because his brows furrowed intensely. “I will let the Director now. Of course, thank you. Stay safe.”

“Scarlet, there’s been a situation,” he hesitates before continuing.

I sit back into my plush office chair and leaned my elbows on my desk. I sit patiently as he thought of the words that he needed to convey the information he just received.

“One of our own has sent a distress signal. It’s urgent. We need to organize troops and send reinforcements.”

“Alright, well since that decision relies on my approval. Tell me where and I will get on it right away,” I assured him, calm emitting from my persona unlike his.

“It’s at the Palace in Angeles, Scarlet,” he croaked. He knows what that meant to me. He is supposed to be kept safe. How the hell did this happen?

“What do you want to do?”

For the first time in six years, I was unsure of what to do.

#the selection #the one #the elite #maxon schreave #maxon #america schreave #maxerica #branching out #romance #angst #love #the selection series #the fighter

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kalico-to-the-letter · 7 years

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The LOVE for NARUTO in 2017

I’ve not been overly enthralled by 2017′s offering to anime. At first glance, it appears that studios are reverting to formulae I would have appreciated four years ago, but just seem tired now. There are a number of big name productions which seem unique and fun, but my concern is with the productions that make up the rest of the field; the shows which get a season of 12 episodes, maybe an OVA, and are never heard from again. That is where I think standards have either plateaued or dipped. And if you are like me, someone who doesn’t watch a lot of big-name anime, you rely on these kinds of shows to carry the bulk of the season. I really don’t think we’ve had much of that this year, and when that happens, we turn to rewatching shows of old.

Naruto is the only “big-name” anime I’ve ever been able to stand. Bleach? No. One Piece, Yu-G-Oh!? No. Fairy Tale has never interested me. I recently tried to rewatch Dragon Ball, because I liked that franchise when I was a kid and wanted to know if it stood the test of time, and oh girl, it does not.

I first started watching Naruto when I was 11 years old. I would come home every day after school and watch the “latest” episode, in English dub, on our cartoon channel. And I had been watching Dragon Ball and Z up until that point as well, but I never developed a connection to the DB franchise as deeply and quickly as I did with Naruto.

I must say that that first arc, the prologue/Mission in the Land of Waves, is one of the best arcs of storytelling I’ve ever seen. Is it the most sophisticated thing ever? No. It’s not even the deepest Naruto arc of all time. But it is so good at establishing everything. From the early episodes of learning who the Konoha kids are, through to the deaths of Haku and Zabuza, the arc is so damn effective at setting up what the show would become. We learn quickly about what drives the characters and the world. And the story of this arc, particularly as far as Haku and Zabuza are concerned, manifests into the key personal motivation of the most important character in the show. It is the lives and deaths of these two that fully cements Naruto’s desire to live according to his own nindo, and take a bold step away from the traditional ideals of the shinobi, that these two tragic figures represented. This belief in a new, more hopeful way drives everything that follows in this story; his interactions with other characters and how they grow as a result of coming into contact with him. Even his overarching conflict with Sasuke.

In 2017, we can see the end result of this, in the Boruto series (which I’m also enjoying). Naruto’s influence has driven the shinobi world into an uncharted territory of cooperation and peace.

Considering how many characters there are, it is amazing that I find only a handful of them truly unbearable (Kiba, I’m looking at you).

The concept is genuinely cool for my sensibilities, and the fact that the show is able to turn it into the believable base and foundation of a dramatic story says a lot to me. It would have been so easy for this to be a show about how cool it is to be a shinobi and perform all these different techniques. Instead, the show starts with that before turning it on its head and saying, “No, this is going to be a serious story. Get ready to see the consequences of this life.”

Does Naruto have its holes? Of course. Watching the series after its airing run has finished has given me the benefit of not being too bothered by fillers, especially where I’m at right now, which is more than 300 episodes into Shippuden. And when I say I’m watching everything, I mean everything. I watched all 220 episodes of the original series as well. I’m not watching the movies (aside from The Last), just because they’re even less canon than the filler arcs. But I can imagine that having the canon start and stop on a weekly basis must have been difficult for those of you who actually watched it that way. It’s just my personal circumstance that allows me to take them in stride. And the fillers themselves are good, more often than not. When they shine lights on characters who aren’t heavily featured in the canon, it’s particularly brilliant.

The War arc has a big case of power creep, and mainly for the purpose of spotlighting the most important characters involved. One issue I have is with the involvement of Kaguya Otsutsuki – her threat seemed something of an afterthought, especially after all the work Kishimoto put into making Madara look like the biggest beast possible.

And Kishimoto can be accused of losing direction, which might be a fair accusation. The war represented a big opportunity to rewrite a number of the world’s established rules for the sake of preparing his conclusion, which he took in regard to past events and exposition.

As is often the case with my personal tastes, though, the issues with the show don’t do anything to diminish my love for this show.

And I think having love for creative works is important. Naruto isn’t the only show I have this with. There is just something to be said for loving something, regardless of its flaws. Be it shows, games, films, books, or even music – I have a lot of works in these media categories that I can connect wholly to. And maybe I’ll put together a list of these someday.

But I could genuinely talk to you about Naruto for hours. I can gush over how smart it was to have Sasuke beat Naruto in their first Valley of the End fight. I can complain about how the show used Sakura for much of the original series before redeeming her in Shippuden. I can lament the sheer tragedy of characters like Itachi and Obito.

I credit this show for properly introducing me to anime; there is every chance that I would not have become an anime fan without it. In fact, I originally stopped watching because English dubs hadn’t caught up. I believe that I had seen all of the original series in English, and Shippuden dubs hadn’t even started. And because I didn’t know what anime was, I had no familiarity whatsoever with its Japanese version. Over the years I still kept up with the story, as I learned more about the show and about anime in general, but I never actually got around to watching Shippuden, until this year. It’s nice to think back about how full circle my connection to anime has come.

At the moment, I’m on pace to finish this show by the end of February or early March, and I probably won’t be in the mood to write about it by then, so I just wanted to air some feelings while I’m in the thick of it.

I’m curious: Which anime introduced you to the medium, when you were young? Or older? Was it one of these big shounen series like Naruto or Dragon Ball? Or was it something obscure? Was it an anime movie like Akira? What anime do you love, regardless of their flaws?

Anyway, that’s all this post is, just some thoughts and feelings on a show I’ve rediscovered and renewed my love for, and has somehow come to define my 2017 in the anime genre.

P.S. There is a peculiar kind of rush I get from watching Shippuden and also following Boruto week to week.

#SaradaFor8thHokage

– Kallie

#naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #masashi kishimoto

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kuraiamore · 7 years

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MadaKaka ficlet, vigil for the night bloom, part 2

@madakaka

Err, yeah, so I wrote a part 2 of Madara+Kakashi’s forearms as well, partially out of procrastination, partially because Madara is surprisingly very fun to write, and partially because everyone was so welcoming and nice and just amazingly enthusiastic about this tiny flyaway thing I wrote, like wow. So yeah, in lieu of sending you all hugs, I am sending you more MadaKaka >.<

Hopefully it’s as good as the first part?

The moonlight makes the roofs of Konoha shimmer with a blue-grey tinge, long shadows stretching out a haphazard path for Madara as he leaps over the eclectic sprawl of buildings and infrastructure that make up the village’s thriving hive. Every vaulted step sends him cutting through the still night air, swift and sure as a kunai thrown by well-trained hands (and pale forearms taut with sinewy muscle. If Madara lands a few centimetres off his mark with only his shinobi skill to catch himself gracefully before an awkward trip, no one is there to tell.) At his speed, he stirs the wind and it whips about him in greeting, whistling in his ears and pressing cold palms and scratching nails into his cheeks. Yet despite its chilly touch, the roiling heat that had flared up when he had had Kakashi pinned against the fence continues to thrum through his blood, a maelstrom of agitation churning relentlessly beneath his skin.

A crow of laughter, raucous and warm-bellied, jars him, and he realises with a huff of annoyance that he’s approaching the village centre, cool tones beginning to give way to dappled spots of muted gold and orange radiating from lampposts and restaurant lights and lanterns. Mid-leap, he flares out his senses, mapping out the tens of thousands dots of chakra flickering within the village radius around him, searching for a gap between the clusters… and realises that he feels nothing of the usual electric tingle that comes from picking up Kakashi’s unique signature.

There is an odd, weightless second where he floats, hanging in the air; where bewilderment creeps up like a rising tide and extinguishes the heated itch running mad beneath his skin; where the feeling of lack aches as keen and devastating as he has only ever felt once before, the night Konohagakure was founded and he stole away into the deepest corner of the Uchiha compound, held a mirror to his eyes and whispered apologies to an unseeing ghost.

It hits him—really hits him—almost like a blow to the head: the sound of Kakashi’s weighted voice rasping out his name; the sensation of Kakashi’s tense body readying itself for combat; the sight of Kakashi looking at him with guarded apprehension and apathetic deliberation, and he lets himself feel the rush of the fall before skidding across concrete slabs to a stop, toeing the very edge of the rooftop he lands on.

Crude oil seeps thick and black where the heat once blazed and smouldered, and it’s not until his thoughts hiss viciously of absence, of no more, of stay away, that he recognises the feeling for what it is: a swirling cesspit of guilt and shame and regret bubbling away into angry misery.

Stupid, stupid, stupidstupidstupidstupid

Another burst of laughter rings out, riding the air to echo in his ears. Madara clenches his fists, closes his eyes, takes several deep breaths and tells himself that there is no way the plebeians below him could know of his presence unless he allowed it (for even with 99.98% of his chakra sealed away under rune and ink and blood—20 years, and though he had agreed of his own accord, the sentence for his crimes still chimes bitterly in his ears—Uchiha Madara is a force beyond nature, an artist wielding chakra for his paints and subduing the world to his woes and whims). Therefore, sure as the sky was blue and his name was Uchiha Madara, it was in no way possible for the laughter to be directed at him.

He tells himself this very firmly, repeatedly, and yet the urge to destroy whoever dared laugh in during his rare moment of introspection neither subsides nor changes. An involuntary growl emits from his throat. Almost comforted by the familiar flutter of irritation, Madara moves into a crouch, bending his knees in preparation to spring back into the skies when he feels it: the spark of Kakashi’s chakra signature, flickering approximately two kilometres from him and rapidly moving closer.

The intensity of the relief that wells up inside him at the knowledge that Kakashi is nearby stuns him; his breath comes out in a stutter and he finds himself simply staying in his awkward crouch, blinking like an idiot. It’s a long moment, in which he stands half bent, alternately perplexed and angry at himself, and then even more angry at the whole ordeal, before he hears the soft tap of a body landing behind him, Kakashi’s chakra flaring pure and bright before dwindling back to its usual low, almost imperceptible hum.

It’s nice of Kakashi, Madara thinks, slightly dazed, to give him such clear warning of his oncoming presence, and even the chance to escape if he so desired. Slowly, he straightens up and, against the screaming alarm bells that suddenly sound in his head, turns around.

Kakashi had taken the time to take off his Hokage robe, standing in his preferred armoured vest, jounin slacks, shirt and mask. The moonlight is still shining, bathing the village leader in an ethereal white glow and making the silver of his hair glint like polished blades. Madara’s eyes are drawn down the length of Kakashi’s long, willowy body, tracing the slightly shadowy outline of his shoulders, down his arms to where his hands are tucked casually into his pants pockets, hip cocked slightly to the side.

Those damnable forearms peek out, two tiny patches of skin between swathes of loose-fitting fabric.

There’s a reflexive swallow; Madara finds that his throat is dry, and something is tangled and writhing in his chest. He must be making some kind of terrific expression because Kakashi quirks an eyebrow and he suddenly has the inexplicable urge to rip off the stupid mask and smash Kakashi’s face with his own and—oh.

Ohhh.

That explains the heat, and the burn, and the warmth. That explains the way his mouth itches; the way his gut roils; the way his eyes insist on following after whenever he catches sight of silver-grey hair, of a long, indelible scar cutting through one of a pair of perceptive dark eyes, of a smooth, lean body whose every contour he has studied and committed to memory over the last four years, seven months since he returned to the place he now begrudgingly calls home.

(A home built between the towering piles of paper in the Hokage office; between the trees of the village training grounds where a certain shinobi steals away to take naps and play fetch with oddly indulgent ninken; between the cramped apartment walls that the very same shinobi refuses to give up despite getting the keys to the most prestigious building in the village.)

To think he had risked that in a moment of utter madness.

A whirl of dizziness washes over him.

Only half aware of what he’s doing, Madara takes slow steps towards the man standing before him, keeping his hands well apart and in clear view, until they’re back to almost where they started: standing too close, hardly a foot apart, his breath too hot and loud in his ears.

Loud enough to drown out the restless, clashing mix of anxiety and offence to his stubborn Uchiha pride, the clamour of alarms screaming in his head quietening in the face of Kakashi’s impassive stare.

He sinks to his knees.

“Woah-woah, hey!”

Kakashi hits the ground almost as soon as he does, arms extended as if to catch him, and suddenly those forearms that had started the whole mess are back in his reach, as mesmerising and infuriating as they had been before he had fled in a burst of possibly misplaced self-preservation.

He can’t name what compels him to stretch out his own hands and take hold of those lines of skin. There’s an intake of breath above him, but Kakashi holds still, just like before, and Madara takes it as permission to explore. He trails his fingertips lightly across the pale expanses, and Kakashi shivers, almost unnoticeable but for their proximity to each other.

Maddening, Madara thinks, and does it again, this time pressing harder so he can feel the raised wrinkle of old scars against the pads of his fingers.

He keeps going, gliding up and down and back again, marvelling at the difference in texture between scar and skin, only half aware that his strokes could be considered caresses. He dips as far as he can under the cuff of Kakashi’s sleeves, until the tip of his middle finger hits the bend of Kakashi’s inner elbow, then slides back out with a gentle scratch. He thumbs over veins where he can see them, until he finds himself simply holding Kakashi’s wrists in his hands, the edges of his gloves digging slightly into his palms.

He doesn’t know how long they kneel there, his entire world narrowed down to two strips of luminous white.

Kakashi tugs softly with his right hand, and it is with some strangely forlorn helplessness that Madara loosens his fingers just enough to let Kakashi slip it out of his grip.

“Maa, I don’t really know what’s going on,” Kakashi says, and there’s a nervous chuckle in his voice, the hand that had escaped Madara’s grasp reaching up to ruffle the back of silver hair, “but have you calmed down now?”

It’s a second before his brain processes the words, and then Madara wants to scoff, to flick his hair in Kakashi’s face and tell him no, he is not calm, he is currently the furthest thing from calm and really, this is all Kakashi’s fault, because how dare he reduce Madara to this… this pathetically heated, wanting, mawkish thing of a man—except he realises that Kakashi hasn’t taken away his other arm, that it’s still resting in Madara’s grip.

He doesn’t want to let go.

So instead he nods and hopes that Kakashi will let him hold on, for just a little longer.

But Kakashi just lets out what sounds like a breath of relief, eyes curving in his trademark smile, and stands up, his hand sliding away with the motion. Madara’s fingers twitch.

“Well then!” Kakashi chirps, back to his usual blasé attitude as if Madara hadn’t been holding him by the throat not thirty minutes ago. “How about some sushi? I heard that they’ve added some new items to the menu at Hotaru’s, and I’ve been wanting to check it out.”

Madara is at a loss to Kakashi’s intentions; surely it couldn’t be that simple, whatever Kakashi’s personal carefree inclinations were. After all, Madara was still officially a criminal under patrol, who had outright attacked the most important man in the village regardless of his reasons and intentions. He had broken the one of the strictest conditions of his contract with the village, which was enough grounds of have a whole squad of ANBU chasing after him and—Madara realises with a start that absolutely no one had approached them while he had Kaksahi pinned to the fence, and where the fuck had the ANBU guard been, the Hokage could have been hurt—

“Madara.”

Madara looks up to see Kakashi holding out an open palm, and Madara cannot tell if the softness he sees in grey eyes is real or some desperate imaginary hallucination.

That awful squirming in his gut is back, but he is Uchiha Madara, and he will lose to no one, not even himself.

Kakashi’s hand is warm.

A Rather, Very Long, Very Indulgent Author’s Note:

So I originally considered ending this with MadaKaka smut (because I love smut and I especially love smut with Kakashi, particularly a submissive/bottom!Kakashi (incidentally how I found myself interested in MadaKaka in the first place actually, cause I feel that there really aren’t that many characters who he would realistically let hold him down, also your MadaKaka headcanons were just A+)), but I just could not figure out a good segueway that didn’t seem entirely unnatural to either of the Madara and Kakashi I had pictured in my mind, so I relented to Madara’s emotional rollercoaster and started looking for other avenues to go down.

(That said, if you haven’t seen it already, I wrote the smut!)

My first thought was this: “If Madara’s already freaking out so much about Kakashi’s forearms, what if I let him be fixated on a slightly more intimate body part? Cause variety.” (because apparently I enjoy turning Kakashi into a Romantic-style Victoria maiden whose every patch of exposed skin is grounds to fall into a spiral of brain mush that can articulate nothing more than omg fuck hot hot omg this man *ahem, not projecting at all, I swear, it’s all Madara, ahem*).

Anyway, so with that thought in mind, I started on the idea of Madara getting even more worked up about Kakashi’s neck until I remembered that Kakashi’s mask covers his neck as well.

Me at this point: all good, we just need to think a little outside the box. How about somewhere a little lower that isn’t quite right below the belt?

So now we move on to Madara freaking out over Kakashi’s lower calves, the area between sandals and pants legs. But because I like to research for anything I write and ensure as much canon compliancy as possible, I decided to double check that Kakashi’s outfit/s really did expose a part of his legs.

…if you haven’t guessed it already, they do not. In his jounin outfit, there is a gap between shoes and pants, but the legs there are wrapped up in bandages, and in his Hokage day wear, he’s got these new knee-high sandals.

So now I’m getting just a little miffed, but thinking, “it’s okay, we can still work with this. Naruto-style ninja sandals are pretty exposed; there’s usually a cut at the back, so let’s have Madara be all stupid about Kakashi’s heels. I mean, I have no idea what position they’ll be in for Madara to be staring at Kakashi’s heels, but at least it’ll be something different.”

Kakashi’s new knee-high, Hokage boot-sandals do not have an exposed cut at the back of them.

(I was in half a mind to make Madara mildly obsessed with Kakashi’s toes, cause at least his toes are exposed, but then I was like, “yeah, nah, not really into that”).

So basically we were back to forearms, and maybe fingers, except fingers without a hand/palm is kinda weird (why don’t you just take his gloves you, you ask? (Or anything else for that matter? ;) ) Oh god I was tempted, but the flow just didn’t seem right, so I didn’t), and that’s how I ended up with what you read up there ^^^

This is all to say that Kakashi is actually a Romantic-style Victorian maiden—the type who would start a reading club in a secret parlour, delight in defying societal stereotypes and expectations, and use the system to absolutely destroy the fuck out of any idiot who would dare question his competence and ability for sure, but gosh, can you just imagine him demurely and breezily delivering underhanded insults to anyone who so much as looks at him the wrong way with a coquettish smirk and a tease of skin?

(I imagine maiden!Kakashi in a dark blue evening gown, either three-quarter sleeves and wrist gloves or off-the-shoulder and satin gloves running all the way up to the upper arm, and strings of pearls gleaming across their neck and collar, perhaps small fang-shaped earrings forged of some precious silver metal hanging just above the curve of their jawline. Their face is hidden behind either a delicate silk scarf or a lace fan, silver-white hair the colour of morning mist** flowing down their back in choppy waves (think long-hair Sakumo with hair unbound). The scar across their eye the souvenir of a fencing competition because the Hatake Household is on that shit and every Hatake lord and lady learns to fight to protect what they hold dear. I dunno how genderbent(?), Victorian maiden!Kakashi became a thing in my head but there you go xD )

(And Madara’s just fuming in the corner while anxiously trying to figure out a way to successfully court this exquisite creature, meanwhile promising to kill anyone with even the slightest of dishonourable intentions to his chosen desire.)

Honestly, what are you guys doing to me that I’m beginning to find this crack pairing actually adorable? xD

Aaaaand I think that is all I have to say.

Thanks for reading this stupidly long note til the end, and I hope you have an amazing day/night wherever you are<3

**I waste hours trying to decide what shade of grey I want to make Kakashi’s hair at any one particular time. Seriously, do a basic google image search of the man, and is it light grey? dark grey? silver tones? blue tones? lavender tones? should I go get my eyes checked? *throws hands up in frustration*

#madakaka #uchiha madara #hatake kakashi #naruto #my writing #my fic #vigil for the night bloom #this maayyy get a part 3 #and 4 #i should come up with a title #and now it is 5am #my life is being taken over by fanfic #rip my thesis #i should sleep

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writer-and-artist27 · 6 years

Text

A Girl and An Archer

After listening to some of the Emiya theme from Unlimited Blade Works, I had this idea that I wasn’t sure about fitting into Healing Over Time, since it’s supposed to be a Saber and Tomoko centric story. But, welp, I seem to have a thing for swords-wielding people, so a little piece that could come along in the Fate crossover I have going if I can make it work. Also, my empathy just makes me feel for all the Servants in one way or another, plus with finals coming up, I needed to write out the stress.

Here we go. Theme for this piece is linked, being the orchestra version of Fate Zero’s To The Beginning. Please let me know if you want to see this kind of development happen in the story for real!

“Master.”

Even if we had known each other for a long while, I found myself tensing from the formality of the title. I should’ve expected it, but can you blame me? I was still a civilian girl, even with ninja loved ones and two very strong people at my side.

“Archer,” I tried not to sigh while turning my head to face him from my place at the piano, pushing a long strand of hair behind my ear. “I told you to call me ‘Tomoko’, didn’t I?”

The white-haired Servant shrugged, his usual flippant smile on his face. Even with a waist-apron and his hair down to cover his forehead compared to the original slicked back look, it was still Archer. The insufferable dork I got to know as Archer. “Apologies, it’s a habit.” The gleam in his eyes said otherwise though, and I tried not to snort, scooting over for him to take a seat when he walked over nonetheless. “There was something I needed to ask you.”

That was new. I made sure to sit up a bit straighter, activate the nearest privacy seal on the piano, and make eye contact for the sake of giving him my full attention. “What is it?”

“…” For the first time that entire day, the bravado on Archer’s face seemed to falter, as if he was hesitating. It was easy to note the sudden tension surfacing in his shoulders too, and once we made eye contact, he jerked his head to the side, breaking it off. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

Uh, no. That’s not nothing. Outwardly, I exhaled before shaking my head. “Archer. It’s not ‘nothing’ if you pause like that. You can speak your mind, y’know. It’s why I tell you not to call me ‘Master’, because we’re humans before Master and Servant. And I see you as a friend.” Even when a part of me wasn’t sure if it was okay, I still reached over to lightly touch his hand. “So, you can say it. What’s wrong?”

Archer still wasn’t meeting my eyes, in spite of his shoulders relaxing just the slightest tad.

I extended my touch so that I could be holding his hand. “Is something bothering you, Archer? Or is it something I’m doing?” The second thought popped up just as I finished, and I found myself adding, “If you want me to do something for you, I can.”

The last thing I was expecting was the loud and exasperated huff on his part. “That’s the thing.” Archer swiveled his head to meet my eyes, and I could already feel myself flinching from how dark his eyes were. Were those gray eyes ever so clouded before? His eyebrows too were furrowed in a way that resembled anger, and I tried to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “What are you trying to do? You have two Servants with you, Master. Two Servants that could do whatever you wish. Fight for you. Kill for you. And yet you do not ask for anything, instead providing Saber and I housing and food, without even requesting a single thing.” The lump in my throat seemed all the more suffocating with how he was suddenly gripping my hand tight enough to somewhat hurt. “What is your plan, Master? What do you mean to accomplish? What do you really want?”

I opened my mouth before closing it. “Um,” was the tiny response that came out of my throat. In any other case, I probably would’ve resembled a child with how quiet the reply was. “Am I allowed to note that both yours and Saber’s summonings were, um… accidental?”

I had no plan. Things happened, and I was rolling with the punches. That was how things were going. This wasn’t something I could’ve predicted, but for some reason, I wished I could’ve if it meant not being reminded of someone I lost a long time ago.

‘Do you ever stop talking and listen?’

Archer lurched back as quickly as he did when he originally leaned in to stare at me. The grip on my hand loosened too as his eyes seemed to clear. “Master.” His voice was softer now, a far cry from the tone he used before. Huh? “Are you scared?”

I didn’t even realize tears were budding in my eyes before one was already falling and Archer reached over with his other hand to wipe it away. Oh. “U-Uuuu,” was the best approximation of the whimper that left my throat. “A-A little, yeah. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The ramble was already coming on. “For being inexperienced. For not… not being a real ‘Master’ to you.”

“Master.” Archer’s voice was still that same soft tone. “You don’t have to—”

“I-I don’t know, okay?! About what I want to do with your powers. With Saber’s.” I didn’t know where the yell came from. Maybe it was the tone from before. Maybe it was the scathing remarks from before. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was yelling, Archer was still here, and I had a point to make. “I’m not a Mage. I’m not any kind of special magician! I’m not even a ninja like my best friends! I’m just a civilian girl, with some weird chakra that lets her touch other people emotionally! Said chakra being enough to bring you both here!” I didn’t even ask for my chakra to be like that. It just was like that, and there wasn’t much I could do about it except train and control. “I’m just a pianist girl. A-And, I’m not a Master. I can’t save the world. I can’t be a hero.” The oxygen was leaving me quickly, so I took a deep breath to try calming myself. “All that I am now is that same pianist girl, just with two more people in her home that need hugs in my opinion.”

The grip on my hand was lax, but still persistent. “…‘Need’ hugs?” Archer repeated quietly.

“I’ve seen my friends bleed, Archer. I’ve seen myself die.” The words felt like poison in my mouth, and through our held hands, I could feel Archer flinch too. Of course he wasn’t expecting the last part. I never told anyone but Kei about that. Saber didn’t even know. But it was the truth. I couldn’t be anything but honest. “I don’t want to see others fall further than that. I don’t want to see other people get hurt like that. Hell, I don’t want to see people constantly fight and kill their souls in the process of ‘justice.’” Because Kei became a ninja and was already becoming numb to blood. It didn’t stop the worry that one day, she would lose more to missions and so on when I wasn’t looking. “So, hugs.”

“Hugs,” Archer repeated. Was it just me, or did I hear a bit of surprise in his voice? Or awe?

“Hugs, music, baking, anything I can do without hurting someone.” Maybe me, but I don’t mind. Everyone I love knows when to bring me back. “We’re all going to die eventually. Excuse my language, Archer, but the world is shit. People can be shit.”

“…” Without even looking up, I knew Archer had turned his head away.

Even if it hurt to acknowledge it, both of my statements were true. We both knew this. Orochimaru was human, and he was one of the greatest shitbags Kei and the others had to deal with, more so with his being an insult to the entire LGBTQIA+ community. Madara was human, and he nearly destroyed my village and home in the name of a distant pipe-dream that would be “better for everyone.” The White Zetsu even were all once human, and now they were putties that the ninja needed to exterminate if we wanted any chance to exterminate Kaguya for good. To put her away as the Sage of Six Paths wanted.

With my free hand, I wiped at my eyes to get those darn tears out. Now wasn’t the time to break down, especially when Archer was waiting for me to finish. “But that doesn’t mean people can’t improve on themselves to not be shit. That doesn’t mean the world has to stay shit.”

An exhale, and then the grip on my hand tightened. “So then…”

I raised my head to give Archer a smile. “Life can suck, but so what? It doesn’t stop me from trying my best to help others be a bit happier. It doesn’t stop me from trying to be kind and making someone’s day a bit brighter. And you and Saber are some of those people I want to see have better lives.”

Every single part of me was calling to hug Archer now, because the shock in his gray eyes was painful. Even then, I held back, both from our shared hand-holding and how my shoulders were shaking. How I didn’t trust myself in not making Archer uncomfortable.

“I might’ve summoned you both by accident. I might not be the Master you and Saber might want in any kind of grand conflict, heck, I don’t even know what happened to the two of you that led you here to the first place.” A small laugh left me at that, because to that old ex-friend, he probably would’ve called me pathetic. Childish, even. But it was all me. Plain old me. “But back when I summoned you to right now, in this very moment, I see you two as equals. Friends to treat with care and respect. So I don’t want you to sacrifice yourselves for me. There’s no huge war going on right now, so there’s no need to really fight unless you feel the need to.”

Archer’s jaw slackened by the slightest margin while in contrast, his grip on my hand tightened. “Master.”

My smile was still going strong as I squeezed his hand in return. “So, if you don’t mind working in the cafe, eating the occasional cake and muffin, and hearing a little civilian girl ramble in both words and music notes to try helping fighters be human and live again, you can stay. I’m not forcing you to stay if you don’t want to. You’re not just a Servant, Archer.” I meant every single bit of it. My heart was beating hard enough to prove that. “Even with swords and magic, you’re still human. And to me, you’re a friend. If I’m doing something wrong, you have the full decision to leave.”

The grip on my hand was still strong. “…” I was not expecting him to scoff softly. “What a naive and selfless Master I’ve ended up with this time.”

Even with the remnants of tears, a pout was forming on my face anyways. It did not help my case of squeaking, though. “I-I know I’m naive, but I’m fine with it! If you have a problem, speak it!” Another breath, and then I found myself blurting out, “A-And what did I just say about me not being a Master?!”

The laugh was completely out of left field. My eyes stung while blinking, but Archer was actually laughing. It wasn’t the scoff of disbelief I had grown accustomed to, or the mocking one he did when someone was trying to rile him up. This laugh was warm. “Hahaha,” he threw his head back, smiling all the while. “A-Apologies, Master,” and then he was making eye contact with me. Those gray eyes were shining now. “I’m not laughing at you. I…” a more solemn smile covered his face as he turned away slightly. “I just remembered something nostalgic. That was a good laugh.” He turned back to meet my eyes, and the smile was unmistakable. It was soft. Just like Saber’s when we first met. “Is that what you wish to do?”

“It’s not a wish, it’s my dream, Archer.” I couldn’t help the small squeaky laugh on my part too. “I can’t fight like Kei and the others can. I can’t really be a hero from the fairy tales. But I can be kind. I can help people. And even if it’s small and doesn’t matter to the people above me, it still changes things. Kindness can make the world a bit better, one little thing at a time.” My throat was feeling parched now, and I couldn’t help but sigh this time. “And if you keep calling me Master, I’m going to assume you’re okay with that, which I don’t want to assume unless you want to say otherwise…”

Archer rolled his eyes while still reaching over with his free hand to brush at the edges of my eyes with his thumb. “I’m merely surprised. I’ve had many Masters over the long time I’ve been a Heroic Spirit. But you…” The dirt at my eyes was gone, so why was his hand lingering…? “You, Tomoko, have said some of the most outrageous things I have ever heard.”

Another “uuuuu” left me before I could stop myself. Archer said my name, but still. “I-I’m happy that you called me ‘Tomoko’, Archer, but is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Ah, it appears I have, Tomoko.” Archer chuckled and shook his head. He used my name again. “It’s just a saying,” he said instead, and his hand still rested on my cheek. “But even if the words are naive, it’s not a bad thing to believe in. Inspiring, almost.” That spark in his eyes though, that was new. It was different enough to be blindingly bright compared to the cloudiness from before, but still. It made me feel like something changed somehow, somewhat. His thumb rubbed the corner of my eye as he continued to smile. “Do not change.”

Something was up now. “So then,” my voice was quiet now. “You don’t mind me?”

“You’re one large piece of work, Master, but you’re alright.” He let his hand drop from my cheek, but the other hand was still gripping mine. “My job has simply changed.”

The curiosity was tugging at me before I could stop myself. “T-To what?”

Archer huffed in exasperation, but he still smiled at me nonetheless. “From fighting in the Holy Grail War to cooking for a selfless workaholic girl who is far more of a hero than she gives herself credit for. It’s a welcome change.”

Welp. There went my heart. And the off button on the embarrassment. “A-Archer…”

Archer snorted. “Your face is red, Master. Is something wrong?”

Oh my god, this insufferable ass. He was getting mileage out of this. “J-JUST LET ME HUG YOU, DAMMIT!”

Archer still laughed once I tackled him. It didn’t stop Saber from noticing and striding over. The questioning voice over my head was obvious. The privacy seal must’ve been turned off. “Archer, what did you do?”

“Oh, nothing,” was the casual reply, almost matching the strong hand resting on the back of my head as I did my best to hide my red face in the crook of his neck. “I just had a talk with the Master and now owe her a plate of omurice.”

“…Could I get a plate too?”

“Always with the bottomless stomach, Saber. Alright. I’ll cook as much as you both want.”

“Archer…!” was the helpless whine coming out of my lips. Tears were already budding in my eyes again, because he was being nice and I didn’t deserve any of it. “You dooooooooooork…”

“Being a dork seems to be the best course of action when handling a naive Master, Tomoko.”

Yep. Insufferable dork. And occasional ass. And I don’t think I’d have him any other way.

I always did start loving the dorks.

#healing over time #writing #long post #hoshino tomoko #heroic spirit emiya #archer emiya #crossover #fate stay night #fate stay series

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writer-and-artist27 · 6 years

Note

How about 3, 5, 7, 9, 13, 16, 17, 18, and 20? For the fanfic ask meme?

:DD Friend, you are wonderful. Thank you for the ask!

Anyways….

3. What part was most difficult?

For Civilian Pianist, what always gets to me is writing any angst scenes, just because of how my heart really empathizes with all the tension and so on. The second half of Kannabi was especially hard for me to write at the time, because the fan in me really wanted Team Minato to come out all okay, no injuries aside from the faint grazes for the sake of everyone being happy. This is also why I was so sensitive during the Satoru Arc, because some of the feedback that came back, especially after writing such an emotionally difficult arc, was so negative and upsetting to the point I ended up nearly snapping with the Announcement.

This is why Chapter 52 of CP is taking so long, because writing Tomoko’s long-awaited confession to her loved ones about her vow of silence is hard, more so with college weighing on me as always.

The same can be said for The Sea and Stars, since the differences between Tomoko and Kei really become more obvious in later chapters and how they react to things.

5. What do you like best about this fic?

I always love writing fluff and teenage floundering when it comes to CP, because the hugs and eventual kisses between the main couple really warm my heart when I have bad days. It just kinda shows that the ninja world has its soft side too.

For S&S though, I just enjoy being able to work with Lang and Os when brainstorming for this fic. Catch Your Breath already has so much crammed into each chapter, whether it’s character development and worldbuilding, and trying to put my own twist to it with Tomoko’s civilian perspective really is a nice challenge. Not to mention, giving the CYB cast some well-deserved love and appreciation.

Not that Lang and the other fans have been doing so already, but still. :) I’ll always see S&S as my letter of appreciation to Lang and Os, and to fans of CYB and CP.

7. What’s a reference you made no one has picked up on yet?

What really gets to me in general is how barely anyone really comments on the humor, fluff and other emotional twists I put in The Sea and Stars, or comments in general, aside from some nice people, sob, because there’s just so many sides of kid!Tomoko I get to show off that wasn’t shown in CP originally. Example being her large duffle bag in Chapter 16, since that was an obscure reference to K-On! and how Ui, Yui’s younger sister, tried to carry tea to the main characters despite suffering from a fever. The girls at the time naturally panicked, and I drew from that scene when writing the duffle bag, because I know Tomoko would be more than willing to do the same thing.

9.) Favorite line(s) of dialogue?

For CP, taken from Chapter 49. It’s more mental feedback than dialogue, but I think it counts:

Aaaah!

What in all heck are you supposed to do when your best friend and apparent love interest asks to kiss you?!

Past memories don’t prepare you for the absolute real thing!

Tomoko-chan, just say it, or I’m taking control here.

Hisako, please don’t.

You’re seriously tempting me, though. Just letting you know.

Dear lord, someone save me now.

Hehe.

For S&S though…Chapter 9:

The civilian in front of her blinked. “…Um, did I say something wrong?”

“…No,” Kei said flatly, leaning back on her cushion with a sigh. “I’m just… surprised? Shocked? All of that?”

“Uhhhh…” Tomoko responded, lowering her hand.

“Then again, if it worked in Macross…” Kei muttered, putting a hand on her chin. “It could work…”

“Ummmm…” the civilian started turning an embarrassed pink while inclining her head. “What’s Macross, Kei?”

The ninja blinked while glancing over at her. “Mecha anime where the universe is saved through singing, I think.”

A pause followed.

Tomoko turned a bit redder as she shook her head. “W-Well, I’m not trying to save the universe, and I don’t have a mech, Kei,” — and then a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head — “Though if mechs existed in the Narutoverse, how many missiles would it take to blow up the Ten Tails statue and Madara…?”

Tomo does have a morbidly curious side. :>

13. How many drafts did the work go through?

Hm. I don’t really count off drafts because I try to write as much as I can for a chapter, then if I hit a block, I consult someone, and then keep writing. Usually once I finish a chapter, I read it over, put it into Microsoft Word to check grammar, call up either Leo or Josh on phone, or Lang on Tumblr, as well as Os and Abalisk occasionally, and then just post it up on FFN without thinking on it too much. Usually end up going to class or sleeping after that.

16. If you used a beta, what did you agree or disagree on?

It’s interesting that you say that because to be honest, almost every close friend I’ve talked to has been a beta in my mind. I don’t have an official beta, like how Lang can count on Os, but the people I interact with help a lot. Leo, Josh, another friend who I’ll call “Ash”, since I’m not sure if she’s okay with me mentioning another name and so on, Lang, Os, and Abalisk. Those 6 people really help me out when I’m floundering. Most of the time, they give suggestions, and I end up taking them into consideration. I’ve never had full arguments for this kind of stuff.

But in terms of agreeing or disagreeing, I don’t know what I can say to that. Leo is the closest person to me that disagrees with me on things, but it’s really on the brainstorming of the Danganronpa Crossover I’ve been planning for S&S, and he’s the self-proclaimed Danganronpa/Sci-Fi expert. Said disagreements don’t last that long though, since they’re more of things to consider and not force.

17. Did anything surprise you during the writing?

Really, the fan reception and reviews. I was not expecting CP to nearly overshadow S&S, nor how reviewers overall were really nice to me with the longer time intervals between updates. I guess the past Announcement and reception to the Satoru Arc were really the only negative things, and even then, the CP and S&S fanbases have been kind overall. That’s the nice thing. I can’t help but feel touched every single time someone says they felt happy or some other emotion from my writing, because it shows my floundering is paying off and I’m helping someone!

18. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Of CP? Look no further than The Sea and Stars!

Aside from that… Well, there is the Danganronpa crossover I’m still brainstorming/working on. And what I mentioned in a previous ask. There was a time where I considered writing Tomoko as an actual ninja, paired with a nicer, more Leo-like version of Satoru and Josh’s own ninja going by the name of Sho, but since it required all three of us to work on it, and Leo’s own apathy to it, we never really did finish. But the ideas stayed. :)

20. What did you learn from writing this fic?

For both stories mentioned above? Emotional reactions to various situations, including those of war (including PTSD and how one might approach it); how to properly respond to feedback and criticisms (especially when it comes to mean reviewers); and how to avoid ableism. The last one I attribute specifically to Os, since writing the aftermath of CP’s Kannabi meant addressing that issue, and their advice really helped.

#ask #deathnotehyperness #thank you for the ask!#fanfic ask meme #civilian pianist #the sea and stars #writing #personal thoughts #long post

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writer-and-artist27 · 7 years

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10Q x a billion

Tagged by: @owlsofstarlight

Put under the cut for the sake of not being long.

1. What’s one genre you really love the idea of, but are disappointed when you go to read/watch it?

Romance, because so many harem shows and so on just make it way too dramatic and painful to get through. Aside from Cardcaptor Sakura and stories like @langwrites‘ Catch Your Breath, which did amazing Slow Burn, I rarely go into Romance genre stuff.

2. Feelings about fire in general? (where my fellow pyros?)

Neutral. As long as it can help keep the house warm and cook food, I’m good.

3. Which of your OCs is the kinkiest?

In terms of hints/innuendos? Hikari, since she does tease Judai on occasion when they’re alone. Of course, this happens when Tomoko is not around. Hisako does troll Tomoko a little bit herself, but not in that category since sex-related stuff is very iffy for Tomo in general.

4. What is the one thing you most want a fan to say someday?

“Could I draw fanart for you?” or “I was hoping if I could write a fanfic of your fanfic?”

I’d be squealing all day if that happened.

5. Which OC do you think readers will like the most?

From personal opinion? Tomoko, Hisako, and Hikari, since those three ladies stand out so much in CP and in S&S. From what I’ve seen of FFN reviews though, Hikari’s the Ensemble Darkhorse, and that’s awesome.

6. Were your OCs born naturally, with pharmaceutical assistance, or via c section?

Aside from Hisako, because Nobody status for Tomoko, all my OCs were born naturally. I honestly think Judai was the only one that came from c-section, because his mother (and in turn, Tomoko’s paternal grandmother) suffered from some health problems. I can’t expand on it aside from that because I haven’t exactly thought about Judai’s parents. For as long as Judai himself knew, he was an orphan.

7. What is the single emotion that is the absolute hardest for you to write? (loneliness, loss, hopelessness, joy, etc)

Seething anger to the point of extreme action. I can get close with my empathy and sympathy to many different emotions, but anger in that level (where a character might even kill or something) is something I can’t imagine. Nor the simple mess that is Orochimaru’s craftiness, because all he is in my head is a pedophile snake that deserves to die.

8. If your OC were a cookie, what sort of cookie would they be?

Tomoko would be a sweet red velvet cookie. Hikari would be macademia nuts, Judai a chocolate chip protein cookie (because ninja status), and Hisako would be peanuts and M&Ms.

Tomoya, on the other hand, I see being birthday cake, because she’s still figuring out who she is past her assigned male gender.

The Hitoshi family would all be oatmeal cookies that got badly burnt in the oven. :d

9. How important do you think it is to describe a character’s appearance?

Pretty important, but not so much to where you dedicate entire pages to them. The reader should get an idea of how they look, but also leave some room for interpretation/fanart opportunities. Hence why when I do describe appearances in writing, they’re simple and sweet so that art has a leeway to come in.

10. And, spitballing off that, which OC do you think is the prettiest?

Right now? Hikari, since she can rock almost any outfit. Also helped by how she makes her own clothes. Tomoko is still growing, but she’ll get there.

11. Your absolute most evil OC is startled by a toaster popping. What happens next?

Mamoru (the original Drunk Guy) would kinda smash it with an alcohol bottle. Only for Natsumi to go on and yell at him because that was still a perfectly okay toaster. Satoru would be rolling his eyes and heading out the window to avoid another argument on his parents’ parts.

12. One of your OCs is in a Disney animated movie. What’s the “big” song of that movie? (Pocahontas’ was “Colors of the wind,” Aladdin was “A Whole New World,” Hercules was “Zero to Hero” etc.)

If it was Tomoko, the song would be Let’s Just Live from RWBY Volume 4. Simple as that.

For Hisako, it’ll be Neon, also from RWBY, this time being Volume 3.

For Hikari, it would probably be Taylor Davis’s violin cover of My Heart Will Go On from Titanic.

Judai naturally gets Teardrop by BOWL.

Tomoya would probably get something like Mirror Mirror, Part 2 from RWBY Volume 3.

13. Do you think having to write while stuck out in the wilderness by yourself (in a heated cabin, food and water but no wifi, tv, or phone service) would help or hurt?

I think it would help for a while, since I get peace and quiet, not to mention my laptop already having offline editing accessible. But after a few weeks, I would just get worried about how to get back to my family, since I’m still living with them and I love them very much.

Leo and Josh would probably be the first ones to blow a gasket out of worry about me, aside from my Mom and Dad.

14. You have written or thought about writing dirty fanfiction. What is it?

…Really? You’re asking this? From the sex-repulsed, demiromantic?

Well, I thought of fanfics where an adult Tomoko and Kakashi went and did it, but got too much second-hand embarrassment to even think of writing. I’m not even going to bring Kei into this, because Lang kinda had to witness my reaction to the revelation of Kei and Kakashi’s relationship going sexual by OSF firsthand last year, and it’s sorta painful to look back on because getting triggered sucks.

15. Someone offers you thirty million dollars to ghostwrite a book about how Hell is real and all dogs go there, good or bad. Do you do it?

Nope. My uncle has a sweet Corgi dog by the name of Yuko, and I do not want to think about a story where all dogs go to Hell. Yuko deserves better, and I can get the money elsewhere. If anything, I’d just point at that person with a blank face, say, “You’re just a scam,” and walk off.

16. You will automatically get a million dollar contract for anything you write, but it has to be at least five thousand words long AND you can only use as many letters of the alphabet as complete pullups you can do. How does that work out?

I’d have to exercise more, because I do more push-ups and rollerblading than pull-ups. So no. I’d prefer writing for fun, not for the money.

17. Your dog turns into a person and writes a book about your lives together, and it gets turned into a movie. During the premiere of the movie, your dog turns to you and tells you that Hell is a place of our own making. What kind of popcorn do you order?

I would order a medium popcorn with extra butter. And I don’t think I should worry about the dog part since I actually don’t have a dog. The only dog I interact with is the aforementioned Yuko, and she’s too sweet to say something like that.

18. What’s a genre of fiction you don’t think you’d ever get the hang of writing?

Smut, because sex-repulsed demiromantic here. And any despair-inflicting stuff since I know fluff runs in my veins so much better, hence why I’m still surprised about the Danganronpa crossover that’s been going in my head. Hell, the things my head has come up with for S&S Tomoko past the Memory Arc have been less than cheery, and I have to thank Lang and by extension, Os and Abalisk for getting me out of that mindset many times, because the things she has coming up hurt.

19. How similar is your story world to the Earth we live on?

Aside from the ninja and feudal Japan-like aspects, pretty similar. The only thing Tomoko misses is freedom of speech and democracy, because despite America’s flaws, it did allow Vy’s parents to immigrate and find better lives to meet each other.

20. What inspired any of your WIPs?

Catch Your Breath. I’ve said it enough already, and owe Lang many things.

21. What song best explains the squad in your WIP?

Let’s Just Live from RWBY. Because it’s the main theme for CP in my opinion, and going onto S&S, the message of moving forward is something I think everyone in the squad tries to aspire towards.

22. Do you use Pinterest for your characters/stories?

I have a Pinterest account, but I don’t use it. It’s kinda clunky, and Tumblr and FFN has been shown to be better in my opinion.

23. Do you have an Asshole character?

The entire Hitoshi Family. Even if Satoru hasn’t shown up in S&S (because all the flack surrounding him in his initial arc in CP was bad enough), the family’s bad.

24. What superhero is similar to or is idolized by your OCs?

I feel like Tomoko would idolize Starfire and Wonder Woman, since both had to deal with coming to new worlds and adjusting to life with new people. Not sure on the others though. Judai might sympathize with Batman, but aside from that, I’m blanking.

25. Do your protagonist and antagonist get along?

Nope. Tomoko would probably want to yell her head off at Madara for being so stupid in her opinion, and grab her Wayfinder to slash Black Zetsu with. Hisako agrees with the Zetsu sentiment, but would probably want to kill Madara more than yell at him.

Danzo on the other hand, is someone Tomoko and Hisako haven’t exactly encountered. Judai, though, would want that bastard as far away from his family as possible, since Danzo has offered Judai a place in ROOT back before he met Hikari. It was not pretty, to put it lightly.

26. How many of your current WIPs do you plan to publish, if you are publishing?

I’ve published most if not all of my WIPs on FFN. I don’t know about cross-posting on AO3, since it’s a pain in the butt, but yeah. The Danganronpa thing should come out when I get more chapters of S&S done, and when I finish the anime.

27. Is there a song that inspires you to write, or inspired any of your WIPs?

Let’s Just Live comes up yet again in this long post, but I also have to credit many of Kyle Landry’s piano covers of Kingdom Hearts, because his work on the already great soundtrack gave me the idea to make Tomoko into a pianist in the first place.

28. What trends do your OCs use/wear/etc.?

Anime-inspired kimono stuff. And casual, comfy wear that’s simple and pleasing.

29. Do you listen to music or ambiance while you write? Or just silence? If it’s music, what genre?

When I need to write somber moments, I use silence while sitting in a corner of my room. For everything else, I bring up piano music to keep up the theme of CP having piano themes.

30. Are any of your characters sassy?

All of them can be sassy in some ways, but the people that really dominate the “sassy” category have to be Hikari, Tomoya, and Hisako. Those three can really rip into someone if they want to.

31. How did you come up with the idea for your current WIP?

For CP? The simple question of, “What if Kakashi had a best friend from the near beginning?”

For S&S, though? “How would things be better or worse for Kei if she met Tomoko and they worked together?”

32. How long have you been working on your current WIP?

CP: a little over a year.

S&S: nearing a year, since its first anniversary is coming up in 2 months.

33. Are you planning to publish your current WIP?

Uh, they’re already up on FFN if that’s what you mean. Because honestly, I don’t see myself writing past fanfiction.

34. If your MCs were youtubers, what kind would they be? (ex. vlogger, artuber. booktuber, comedy, etc.)

Tomoko would be like Kyle Landry in putting up various piano covers of the songs she finds.

Hisako would be half comedy, half vlogger/booktuber as she comments on the many things she sees in Tomoko’s head and through Tomoko’s eyes. The booktuber part comes from Hisako’s home being Tomoko’s mental library, so she might be reviewing the books/memories that come her way while in front of the camera.

Hikari would probably be another musician, teaming up with Judai on occasion to be like the real life Videri String Quartet, only as a duo because they both handle stringed instruments.

Tomoya would probably put up piano covers like Tomoko, but also film advice videos for those who are trying to transition like she is.

35. What season do you associate with each of your characters, and why?

Hikari is spring, since she brings along the most cheeriness in the house when Tomoko can’t.

Tomoko is autumn, since she picks up the pieces after summer passes.

Tomoya is winter, since she’s still unsure about herself and trying to find her way in the world.

Hisako and Judai both share summer, since they can be pretty hot-headed when it comes to people they care about.

36. Is there one scene that you are particularly excited to write, or had a lot of fun writing?

In terms of scenes I’m excited to write:

CP has me waiting for Kakashi’s ANBU arc to come by, since Tomoko and Kakashi are already in a relationship at this point, and I’ll be able to flesh out both civilian and ninja sides since the two are going to be kinda separated as a result of ANBU forcing Kakashi to get his own apartment in the ninja barracks for security purposes.

For S&S, I’m looking forward to the Commencement and Memory Arcs, since October Tenth and Sorayama were two events that really impacted Kei’s life originally in CYB. Tomoko being there will lead to significantly different emotional aftermaths, so exploring that has me shaking in my shoes (in the good way).

In terms of scenes that I had fun writing…

CP had Kakashi buying his signature outfit for Kannabi in Chapter 42, because Tomoko (the innocent dork) is finally starting to recognize for real that she loves her best friend and honestly doesn’t want him to die while in the field. Also for Hikari being that fashion badass that I wanted her to be.

S&S had Tomoko’s bulging duffle bag of things in Chapter 16, since that was something I had in mind since the beginning of the brainstorming stages for the story, because Kei’s shown that she can be reckless already. Our civilian pianist, on the other hand, takes things to a completely different level, and I’m kinda sad no one commented more on that scene in the reviews anyways.

37. What would the ship name be for your favorite romantic pairing in your WIP?

For CP? KakaTomo, taking the first 2 syllables from Kakashi and Tomoko’s names to get this.

For S&S? It’s a crack and sunk ship at this point, but KeiTomo kinda grew on me since writing S&S. More so since Tomoko has been shown in S&S to be very dedicated to Kei in a way that’s different from her CP counterpart’s love for Kakashi. It would’ve been pretty interesting to explore, but talks with Lang confirmed it wouldn’t exactly work (as KeiRin shippers from CYB can probably attest to), but thoughts of it are cute to think on.

38. Are you a planner, or a pantser, or in the middle?

In the middle. I plan, but also leave enough holes for the characters to fill in with their actions.

39. What’s your favorite detail that you put into your worldbuilding?

All the family relations between the characters and how a simple network of loved ones can easily make so many changes in the Narutoverse. I’m still happy about how everyone on FFN was so receptive to the CP version of Kannabi, because that was planned from the very beginning of the story. To know that all the build-up, family and fluff moments and all, showed the natural progression of how a canon-doomed mission turned into one that was mostly heartwarming and partly bittersweet.

40. How long are your chapters, usually?

From 5k to 10k words on average. The most I’ve done, I think, is 14k words.

41. If you could meet one of your characters, who would it be?

Tomoko, since I’d be able to assure her that everything will be okay and that she doesn’t have to worry too much.

42. If you could meet any fictional character (not yours), who would it be?

Kei, since Kei’s a dork, and I think I’d be able to get her to relax a bit more by introducing all of RWBY to her and updating her on what’s happened since her past self’s death.

43. Which character is the most fun to write?

Hisako, because she’s a nicer version of Monokuma. She can say so many things that Tomoko just doesn’t say, and without any consequences.

44. Which character is the most painful to write?

To be honest, Judai, since I’m still lurking on his Interlude that expands his backstory leading up to Tomoko’s birth, and trying to make all the Yugioh GX elements transition into Naruto-terms hasn’t been easy.

45. What are some of your favorite tropes?

You Are Better Than You Think You Are, You Are Not Alone, Glomp, and True Companions.

46. What genre is your favorite to read? What genre do you usually write?

Hurt/Comfort as well as a good Mystery mixed with Fantasy are my favorites to read. For genres I write, it’s obviously Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, and Fluff.

47. Earbuds or headphones?

If given an absolute choice, earbuds because portability, but both are fine.

48. What made you want to write what it is you’re currently writing?/ What was that first spark of an idea?

As I’ve said many times before, Catch Your Breath from Lang. The next spark was actually Inoue Shiori by Hermionechan90, since her take on civilians and their relationship with ninja got me thinking.

49. What are your project’s main themes or undertones? (Yes, I do really like this question)

“Keep Moving Forward for Yourself and the People that Care for You.”

“Don’t give into your own doubts — use them as a motivation to improve yourself.”

Also, quoting Madoka from the last episode of the TV series:

“If someone tells me it’s wrong to hope, I will tell them that they’re wrong every time.”

50. Which of your characters do you relate to the most, or has the most of ‘you’ worked into them? And what aspect of you is this? (If you’re comfortable with sharing).

Tomoko obviously has the most of “me” worked into her, because of her status as an SI-OC. The biggest aspect though? Her heart, emotions, and desire to help others. That’s something I still share with her greatly, despite maturing, so seeing her grow as been a wonderful thing to witness.

51. What are the main points of inspiration/original concepts or aesthetics behind your main characters?

There’s a reason why I keep turning back to Let’s Just Live, because it shows just how much aesthetic these characters take from the song and in turn RWBY. You shouldn’t give up just yet, even when life is unfair. You have to keep moving forward, because the ones who have passed on and loved you would’ve wanted you to. If you can’t live for yourself, live for the people that are still alive and that still love you. That’s why I believe Chapter 13 of CP and Chapter 9 of S&S are still so powerful, because it’s something that Sakumo and everyone else needed to hear, and why it still stays despite all this conflict.

52. What’s your favorite quote from your project so far?

From Tomoko herself:

“Don’t take the coward’s way out. Face your pain, your mistakes, head on, and recognize what happened. You can’t change the past, but you can change the present. The future. Don’t start to cherish something when it’s long gone. Recognize what you have now, and treasure it with your life. Remember all the positive moments you’ve had, all the people you’ve loved, and just live. Don’t fear loss or pain. Take it in, endure it, and use it to help others. Because in the end, life is a gift, but short, and with the world the way it is, wouldn’t it be better to impart love and care to our loved ones before the inevitable?”

53. What’s your favorite book and why?

Don’t know if I have one aside from manga and fanfiction.

54. Do the books you like/ genre you read influence your writing style at all?

Yep. Cardcaptor Sakura was all about fluff and positive relationships, for one thing. I can’t list more off the top of my head right now, but that’s a big one.

55. Do you have a weird writer thing? Like a habit or obsession or something that’s just generally unusual when it comes to scribbling words?

Sometimes, when I’m really stressed, I just put on my headphones and pull up hairbrushing ASMR videos, because the sound of hairbrushing is surprisingly relaxing and nice when I need to get into the right working-mood.

56. Are you a hand-writer or a screen-typer?

Screen-typer.

57. What’s your favourite character from a text you’ve been forced to study and why?

Surprisingly, even though I haven’t finished the book yet, Werther from Goethe’s The Sorrows of Werther stands out, because he’s the first male protagonist I’ve seen in historical texts that is so emotional and open, and considering how my HUM professor likens his development to that of the Romanticism Movement that I already unconsciously took from, all the right bells were hit.

Tagging: No one. Whoever wants to do this, go ahead! Just pick 10 from the questions up above. :)

#owlsofstarlight #i got tagged #tag game #writing #thanks for tagging me #long post #oh gosh #this is really long #hoshino tomoko #hoshino hikari #hoshino tomoya #yuki judai #hisako #civilian pianist #the sea and stars #oc asks #tw: sex mentions

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