#sakura I am deranged about

[yoichichi]

been dealing with the mental health craziness that is my period but ily all

[fragmentedblade]

I think I've become an official HI3 player. I check the HSR leaks hoping for iterations of HI3 characters now

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.

[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]

MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

“Miles, what would make you hate me?”

The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.

“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”

At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.

“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.

Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.

“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”

“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”

“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”

“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”

He thinks about it for a moment.

“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”

“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”

“No!” He rapidly shook his head.

“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”

“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”

“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”

“Well, you got a chance now.”

“How so?”

“You got me.”

You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.

“… I’ve got you?”

Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?

“F’course you do. We’re friends.”

Friends.

“Friends?” Just friends?

Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”

Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.

Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.

“You want some?”

You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.

“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”

Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”

“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”

“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”

“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.

“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.

“You’re welcome, princesa.”

Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”

His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?

You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.

Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.

“Sure, whatever.”

That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.

Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.

The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.

Damn the rich, all of them.

Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.

Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.

When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.

He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.

“Did I make ya wait long?”

A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.

“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”

He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”

A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.

“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”

With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?

“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”

And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.

Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.

“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”

“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”

“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”

“How so?”

Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.

“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”

He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.

The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”

“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”

His head turns. “… I see.”

He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.

“.. So can you tell me?”

A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.

“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.

“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”

Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”

“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”

Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.

What would make him any different from the elites?

“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”

He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”

“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”

“Credible name?”

“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”

The boy swallowed.

“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”

And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’

And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.

“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”

The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”

“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”

Without missing a beat, he answered.

“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”

“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“

“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”

“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”

Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”

With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”

Planned? Planned by who?

Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?

“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”

“Then the Aureum building?”

“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”

Miles pondered and pondered.

“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”

“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”

“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”

Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”

“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”

“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”

It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.

“You know any of their names?”

“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”

Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.

Miles swallowed.

It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”

“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”

“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”

Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”

“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”

Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.

“She from the finer part of York or what?”

“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”

Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”

“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”

“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.

“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”

Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”

“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”

“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”

Miles didn’t reply.

As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.

“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.

“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”

“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”

“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”

Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.

“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”

.. Miles left seconds after.

It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.

His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.

He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.

But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.

Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?

An illegitimate child. Which one was it?

Your brothers, who had everything?

Or you, who had nothing?

And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.

And you could still taste blood in your mouth.

You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.

The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.

Snap.

Snap.

ＳＮＡＰ.

The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.

“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.

Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.

“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.

Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.

Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.

“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”

You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”

The lights dawned upon the both of you.

“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.

You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”

Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”

“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”

You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.

“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”

“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”

You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.

“Is that a threat?”

“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”

You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”

“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”

You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”

“Sure.”

Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.

No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.

But could Miles do it?

Could he actually change you? Humanize you?

Make you kind and loving, and normal?

You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad’s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”

“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.

“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”

“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”

You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”

Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”

Oh, so like a normal family?

We were capable of having that this whole time?

…

“[Y/n]?”

You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”

“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”

The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”

Such a romantic.

“Do you think you can handle it?”

“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”

Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”

“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”

“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”

The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”

Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.

“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”

“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.

Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”

Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”

“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”

“But why?”

“Because I said so.”

You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.

A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.

He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.

In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.

Then there was this drumming.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.

You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.

You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.

Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.

Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.

It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.

Really, who are you, [Y/n]?

Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?

And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?

“.. Miles?”

From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.

Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'

Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.

“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”

“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”

His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”

He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.

“.. Nightmare.”

Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.

Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.

“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”

His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.

You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.

You chose him.

But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?

Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.

“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”

“Me duele la cabeza.”

“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”

He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”

“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.

But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?

“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”

Rio sat in silence.

“.. Que?”

Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.

“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“

“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”

Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”

“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”

“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”

“Well, ma, it’s just..”

“Did she cheat on you!?”

“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”

“And then?”

“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”

“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”

“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”

“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”

“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”

“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.

“So.. Who’s the girl?”

Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”

“Mhm.”

“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”

“Oh, so she’s an artist?”

Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”

Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.

He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.

But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.

But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.

His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.

“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”

“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”

Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.

“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”

“Oh?”

“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”

“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”

He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.

“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”

“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”

Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.

“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”

Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.

Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.

“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”

The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”

“I can help—“

“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”

“But Ma—“

“Rest.”

And he did.

Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.

her ♡ || two minutes ago.

sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭

remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date

i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad

if you want, we can do it tomorrow.

Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.

So he waited for another five minutes.

.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.

He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.

‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’

“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”

He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.

“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”

‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!

‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’

“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”

It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.

A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.

“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.

He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.

Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.

As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.

He peers through it, before kicking it away.

Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.

But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.

It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.

Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.

Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.

This belonged to his father’s.

He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.

A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.

Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.

It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.

“Miles, do you want juice?”

“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”

His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.

Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.

There was a USB.

“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”

Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.

As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.

The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.

And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.

Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”

You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”

One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.

Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”

“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”

Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”

You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”

Wait. What? WHAT?

Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?

I’m just as shocked as every other person.

“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”

“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”

“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”

“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”

You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.

A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.

You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.

Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.

The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.

It was your own greed that was worsening you.

Your desire to have a tantamount of power.

But what if you never needed it?

“Miss!”

What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?

“Miss [Y/n]!”

.. But what about Miles?

He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.

“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.

Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.

As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.

“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”

“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”

“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”

You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”

The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.

Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.

“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”

The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.

“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”

“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“

Clack.

You turned your head.

What was that?

ＳＯＭＥＯＮＥ‘Ｓ　ＨＥＲＥ

No shit.

Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.

Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.

“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.

You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.

“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”

Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.

You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”

“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”

You tilted your head.

“Who would you like me to be?”

His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.

[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]

[narhinafan]

One thing I don't get is people stating that Kishi's wife disliked the ending, like was she the one writing those things day and night spending every week drawing the manga? Or did they do that.

And not to mention that Naruto is a fucking shonen, whatever head canon you have for any character is normal but it isn't cannon (speaking to the people who really think Naruto is gay or some shit) it's what the writing wants that goes it isn't that fucking deep.

Kishi wanted Naruto to marry and love Hinata it's not that deep people it's just fucking entertainment. It's like they made it their entire personality that Naruto likes dick or some shit, and no he doesn't love Sakura she's just a friend (sis more like it)

And don't get me on the lowlives of anti Konoha that are Narutoxmulti and Hinataxmulti, they speak as if when Naruto and Hinata are in the presence of one another they ruin each other's characters when Hinata's greatest source of strength is fucking Naruto, and when Naruto is at his lowest she picks him right up. Like fucking shit Sasuke did nothing to fucking deserve Hinata most of that shit is Hinata being salty and just as some guy said "deranged revenge porn paring" he ships naruhina.

And good lord ok those fucks who say they haven't interacted much, like do you know how relationships work irl, because I sure do that's why I am not having a fucking girlfriend at fucking 16 because it's literally set for failure, you should date as an adult and preferably a stranger or someone you trust very much. Hinata is fucking both for Naruto in this spectrum, when they were strangers Naruto was comfortable around enough to let loose about his self doubt something men usually don't do especially with fellow men (that's for SnS fucks who don't get how men fucking work because they are most likely white fucking women, geez if you don't know how this shit works stfu you have no relevance in her you sick fucking bastards. The ship feels more like a porn fetish than a fucking ship) men usually say this kind of shit to a trusted women on thier life usually a mom (he did that with Kushina ) or get this a fucking wife which he didn't do with Sakura (don't get me wrong I fucking love Sakura but NaruSaku is stupid af because I have a sister relationship kinda like NS and I know for damn sure I won't tell my sister about my self doubts because that shit mom would be more experienced with, don't get me wrong sisters can sure give you a good fucking pep talk but they can't do things your mom or wife can do.)

Oh lord don't get me on Narutoxmulti who hate NH, because it's just some poor fucks having Naruto have sex with any women because their sexy? And what they hate NH because it's forced? So your logic is having Naruto fuck Mei who he never talked to once because it somehow makes sense and isn't just because you have a porn addiction and Hinata is the type of women you'll have a relationship with for wife which is fitting for Naruto because foxes literally mate for life, actually foxes are very faithful so when their vixen dies, cannonicaly if Hinata dies Naruto won't have sex with anyone really, shows how much u fucking know about your self insert (who's my favorite character of all time)

Like I stated it isn't that deep and should never be that deep, one Sakura fan I like said this once to someone bashing Hinata for stupid reasons "Politics and Naruto don't go hand in hand", whatever happened with Hyuga ended since the chunin exams or after the war by the time the last rolled because you see Hanabi acting like a normal fucking child, shows how well you really fucking care about the hyuga and Neji.

God these people are so fucking stupid and idiotic I can't get fucking rest from them, I'd rather die than stay in this shit hole of a fandom that doesn't know it's characters properly fucking pieces of shit

Yeah she didn't writing the end and she never outright said she disliked it either.

I totally know what you mean I hate how you can't have any same sex friendship or sibling like relationship with out part of the fandom trying to force feed it being gay down your throat. Like I have nothing against gay ships when it is intentionally done and not forced, but seriously as you said the writing doesn't go that deep and is not meant to be taken that way.

True a lot of antis that ship muilt ship Naruto or Hinata always make them completely OC or outright ruin their characters and relationship with each other.

There interactions might not be a lot, but each one is significant and the way they interact and treat each other is different to how they are with their other friends. Naruto has always been able to show his weakness to Hinata he is comfortable enough with her to share his doubts despite the fact he is constantly putting up a front where he acts confident till he makes it. Fact is Hinata is the only female other then his mother Naruto is comfortable showing sides of himself he doesn't show other people.

For sisters it depends on the type and their relationship with their sibling. Sakura though her relationship with Naruto is negative she isn't the kind of person Naruto can unload his doubts or talk about his feelings without being made fun of. Plus she hits and insults him quite often as well she simply doesn't inspire the same sort of comfort Hinata or Kushina would give Naruto when it comes to opening up about himself.

Yeah never been a fan of harems doesn't match Naruto's character, but also doing them tends to ruin a story. Also some of the ships are just disturbing like I've seen people match Naruto with Tsunade for the same reasons you listed. Naruto is 100% the kind of guy that is faithful and the one that wants a genuine and sincere relationship with the kind of life he went through he wants to be genuinely loved and not a lot of characters can provide that to the extent Hinata can.

Seriously its stupid how they try to bring up that he hasn't changed the Hyuga when we saw things have changed and have yet to see a new gen Hyuga with the seal. The branch house is not a thing anymore or if it is no longer mistreated. We haven't even seen a servant or maid Hyuga in Boruto yet. Things have improved even before Naruto became Hokage and likely even more so after if there were any issues left.

[p8567899754nhu]

Haruno Sakura and misogynistic ass fandom 

sakura haruno is one of the most hated chareters in naruto with her hate being so comically massive that it surprised the creator himself... but why ? what went wrong with sakura ?

I, in particular ,am not a fan of the way kishimoto wrote women in the manga or how shonen in general potrays female charechters. But the thing with sakura and misogyny is that it has more to do with the fandom than the author ,and if you ask me ,compared to how demented the fandom is ,kishimoto practically looks like a feminist icon .  character criticisms dont bother me, but in the curious case of sakura alot of this “criticism” spirals down to very abbhorent misogyny. 

starting right of the bat we have the dude-bros and self-projecting psycho's of the fandom, who hate her cause she's a shallow bitch(their main male charecter-onto whom they project- is a serial attention seeker btw , with being popular his main incentive in life) who likes the popular , good-looking guy and doesnt pay heed to the nice guy's advances dattebayo , no kidding -

i found it difficult to wrap my head around how this utterly gross misogynistic nonsense is so fucking common , it seems that sakura might have triggered their deep down incel by daring to want sasuke -and this also happens to be the reason why hinata is so popular amongst that particular crowd -because unlike that shallow bitch who rejected our nice guy, hinata worshiped his tiny err.."naru-chan"

 these wankers' try to paint hinata as the submissive waifu prototype (erasing even her little canon qualitites we get to see to fulfil there deraged fantasies) and just to cope with the fact that sakura rejected naruto , but err he got the plastic doll waifu , so all is well. they dont end it here though , they go on to elaborate how miserable and sad sakura's life and is that this is what she deserves for "choosing the emo" over the nice guy , while naruto apparently had a better ending for himself by "scoring" hinata .

it reminds me of this apallingly misogynistic meme-

you'll hope these deraged psychos end here , but they dont. 

the next slandering is surprise! surprise! -sakura's looks

 because y'know naruto just had some dirt in his eye when he calls sakura cute. or even when making a remark on how incredibly beautiful haku is, sakura is the objective female beauty standard he compares him to, and the true hidden beauty in the series is hinata imao(the one whose been called weird, plain and crumpy throughout canon) or the inferiority at sakura's rejection and sasuke's obvious superiority to naruto is curbed by hyping up naruto's own looks saying (based on anime filler nonsense) that naruto "gets princess" and sasuke gets normal girls , while throughout the manga the only girl that shows any sort of romantic/sexual interest in naruto -is hinata (and the reason why she likes naruto has little to do w looks) , thats it , even when he becomes the messiah of the hidden village by making pain revive everyone-no girl is interested in him (I adore Kishimoto for doing this and not sticking to the sexist bs of these shallow bitches like our underdog nice guy only when he become popular GRR..GRR.., except for princess byakugan ofc- thennnn lo and behold ,studio peirriot uses this misogynist ass trope in "naruto:the last" , there is only a limit to keep rejecting you deranged fanbase i guess, sometimes one must comply for money)

these petty dumbsos dont even stop here, you though misogyny was enough? what about misogyny+sexualisation(of an UNDERAGE character) +body shaming ?

since sakura has commited the blashphemy of daring to reject naruto's advances (did you hear the recent news of a black woman getting hospitalized after she rejected a dude, becasue that turd was so pissed at her audacity that he threw a brick on her face or that gory case of junko furuta,may her soul be in peace,which is so sick i dont even want to delve into it), , dude-bros have to , no, NEED TO find ways to get back at her , uh? u rejected naruto? HAHAAH bish u flat

psychos , female charechters exist for girls to feel represented and not to serve as cumdumps for your repulsive incel mastrubatory fetishes.

sakura's own fandom has failed her in this regard with the net being bomabarded with sakura wankers' trying to prove their queen isnt flat, sizing her bosom from multiple angels across multiple panels so that she can finally fulfil her long impending destiny of actualizing the incel cumdump fetish

what is also curious is kishimoto doesnt comment anything on sakura's chest throughout the manga -he does add a panel of naruto's smol pp,and how naruto is insecure about it -NO one in canon says anything about anyone's bosom (excpet that creep jiraiya, but even he spares underage girls) and sakura almost never mentions any insecurity related to her boob size , she is insecure that she has big forehead, she is (perhaps) insecure about her weight that is why she skips her meal. heck even sai the roaster toaster with awfullly bad social boundries doesnt comment on it, but guess what? the fandom and SP does infact SP made a fucking full filler episode which is just sakura wanting big boobs and the comparisons of boobs from various koinichi's ranging from Tsunade, to tenten and ino, to shizune!)

why is this "boob measuring" so unique to sakura(and hinata -ill perhaps make a post on this sometime) why is no other female charecter subjected to this gross misogyny weird boob measuring contest,despite sakura not being the only girl who is flat chested- Tenten , Mikoto Uchiha and Shizune? well for one none of them has outright any interactions on level with naruto , second they dont irk anyone is any way - mikoto is also reduced to the trad sub wife prototype(she is what you'd say harmless, unlike the boisterous sakura, she is soft spoken , tends for the males areound her and doesn't err stand out), tenten and shizune are not even present in the narrative often and when they are , their words wrt to naruto are "safe" - they dont insult the main character , dont reject him dont make him look inferior so their boobs and body are spared

OH! just found another gem

incase you are unable to read it properly

-Rin is confessing to kakashi

-and half crushed obito is saying "wow bitch"

Yeah Rin !! how tf can you do that! imagine a 12 y/o confessing to her crush before she commits suicide for the "greater good" of her village , OMG !! you're such a bitch how dare you like else someone when my self-projection has a crush on you !!!! the gal!! the the audacity !!my virgin tradwife hinata so much better fr fr

[plinkcat-gif]

📓📓📓!!!!

i am going to give u. my super mega fucked up genjutsu au bc i see ur stsg angst and i think u will like it DKSKSKDKDK <333 but if these tws aren’t ur thing send me another and i’ll give u a better one <33

tw: genjutsu, technically torture but without the intent to torture, self harm and attempted suicide

cw: more angst :3 also bad-ish ending

so. this is an alternate end i plan to write to nsmap+the kids’ story. like not canon in any way to the au, but.

obito is a leaf shinobi, comes back after the rincident. however he is still insane and deranged and takes his knowledge about the infinite tsukuyomi and applies it to the two people he wanted to do it for in the first place: kakashi and rin.

he puts them in a genjutsu where they experience nsmap as a whole. they stay in rooms without windows in nice beds, separate but together in the genjutsu. obito keeps them fed and watered and cared for. they are like this for years, assumed kia in a mission where rin lost control is isobu. obito keeps up appearances in the meantime.

he’s found out of course, because he keeps slipping up about things that aren’t happening (he’s controlling the genjutsu so he knows what’s happening there and it’s affecting him too!) and an investigation is conducted. he is arrested after anbu find out where he’s keeping kkrin, and team 7 is the one leading the investigation. sasuke is the one who releases rin from the genjutsu first.

she doesnt even react at first. she and isobu are just waking up. she’s crying but they’re not her tears, they’re so salty and she is going to throw up. she does. she throws up saltwater onto the floor, and cries, and mourns and mourns and mourns. but she’s not trying to hurt herself, so they station a couple anbu with her to help her back.

kakashi is different. sasuke releases kakashi and despite how. i mean. malnourished and weak he is, kakashi still tries to kill himself. he is Gone. he rolls out of the bed and he is screaming and trying to tear his hair out and gouge his eyes out and bite his tongue off and sakura and naruto have to forcibly restrain him from hurting himself. obito is witnessing the whole thing, and he’s upset because he can help. if they would let him put kakashi back, everything would be normal again and kakashi would be happy again and so would rin, and he can fix this.

he is violently fighting between “i hurt them i did this to them” and “i can fix this i can fix them if they would just let me” but he is also. still very deranged. so obito is imprisoned. kakashi and rin are put through extensive therapy. rin takes it better because she’s always just been more grounded and she knows herself and she’s very. her.

kakashi doesn’t speak again. he barely even reacts to anything. he is so emotionally traumatized and gone and broken, and it is hopeless to get him to do anything. he wants to be dead all the time.

they finally let them visit obito, just once. rin wants to speak with him; they hope seeing obito will get kakashi to do something.

rin asks obito why. she thinks maybe that figuring out his intentions, knowing he was malicious will make her hate him. (she can’t hate him.)

kakashi stumbles to his knees immediately, asks to be put back. begs to be put back. it’s the first thing he’s said in months. he’s quickly taken away and is never allowed to see obito again.

he sneaks in soon after anyways, because he’s kakashi hatake and can do whatever he wants because he’s that good of a shinobi. and obito puts him back. because even after all this time, the war between the knowledge that he can help his special people but he’s hurting them too, the help always wins. he can do good for them in the end. he is doing good for them now.

rin doesn’t think kakashi should be taken out again. she does, she wants him back, she wants them normal. she wants the dream. but that’s all it was; a dream. and she hasn’t seen kakashi close his eyes so peacefully since he woke from the dream so maybe at least one of them can be happy.

additional:

- team seven hates obito. they hate him. they hate that he taught them teamwork and care and love and then treated his most special people like this.

- rin goes on to live. she’s not happy, she thinks, but she’s living. and she dedicates herself entirely to the medical field and becomes a legend there, because she wants to help somebody somehow.

[bye-bye-firefly]

Hello good sir! Nice to see you on this misty moisty morning when foggy was the weather! What’re your favorite DR ships (platonic and romantic)?

okay top ship ever saiouma. SORRY i am a sucker for narrative foils its like the best. and then theres celesgiri we love lesbians and theyre awesome. fuyupeko theyre lovely theyre really truly lovely. komahina is for sure one. as for platonic stuff for sure the training trio they are the best EVER!!!! miu kokichi and keebo are the best. sakura and aoi are worth everything. i for sure see chiaki and hajime as best friends. chiaki hajime and komaeda are like a friend group to me. one thing i never considered until i entered fandom and like consumed art was an ot3 going between kirigiri byakuya and makoto and i was like Actually. Actually. it may not be my favourite but i just wanted to give it a little mention because it is fun to me

if theres something anyone needs to know about me its that i dont generally have a lot of crack ships and it takes a lot for me to write something about a ship. because you will see i have only ever written for saiouma but lets be fucking clear any day if something came to me in my head i would drop everything i would get to work on doing another giant character study like i did for drv3 and then just start writing. however i havent gotten any ideas for my favourite ships other than saiouma and so i have no need to do character studies. in fact i probably wouldnt enjoy going through the entirety of danganronpa or sdr2 without a reason like that where im just doing a character study or something. and i am a SUCKER for popular ships i do go mainstream daily. the thing is that with crack ships i cannot see it like at all so it immediately makes me less likely to ship it. if i cant see it because neither of them interact or neither of them are in the same piece of media im going to be so confused and im probably not going to ship it. im going to see art of it and go what? huh ? okay and move on. that being said crack shippers are our strongest soldiers let it be known they may also be the most deranged of our soldiers. theyre like. the pyro class of fandoms i think. if we are talking in terms of tf2 lore

[ota-division]

Kira's Thoughts on Shizuoka Division

Kanon Hojo

Kira looks at the photo of the deranged, former Chuohku scientist with a frown. "Due to my position as Vice Chief of the Inspection Bureau, I'm often kept in the loop about most things, such as sensitive information. Of course, I don't really know if this woman counts as 'sensitive'. I've read up on her, and... I don't know whether to pity or be angry at her. I know that her current attitude may have something to do with the True Hypnosis Microphone. Though... I don't know if we can put all the blame on the microphone. She may have just always been insane and just did a good job of hiding it. Who knows?"

"In any case, she remains one of the few top-priority targets we have here in Chuohku. The Prime Minister has ordered her either detained or eliminated at all costs. This order is one of the few ones that I will happily follow. Why? Because nothing good can possibly come from letting someone like her wander around free."

Reika Aichi

Kira frowns at the photo of the fallen socialite. "I don't care for any member of this team. And I'm saying this both as a Chuohku official, and a police investigator. But this woman..." Kira looks at Reika's photo once more, still frowning. "...She is the primary reason why I dislike and do not trust nobles, or people with an excessive amount of money. To be honest, even before I became an investigator, rumors about this woman were all the rage at the police station. Many of my peers thought I was crazy when I took up the case against her, and I won't lie, her case took a fair amount of time. Gathering evidence, questioning witnesses, etc."

"I have enough evidence to put her away for good, but for some reason, the police chief wants me to hold off on having her arrested. Why, he didn't say. I don't want to think my chief is up to something nefarious or suspicious, but... I obeyed. Still, I knew it was too risky leaving something that important at the station, so I took it home with me. Because believe me, one way or another, I will see this woman behind bars."

Sakura Kito

"Sakura Kito, the self-proclaimed "Crime Queen of Shizuoka". Her being a Yakuza is enough for me to dislike her, but..." Kira looks down at her photo, glaring at it, one of her hands balled up into a fist. "...This bitch... her band of thugs have been making a push in Ōta as of late. If that were all they'd done, that wouldn't have been so bad. But I got word they were harassing some of the business owners here. ...including my older sister's. When I saw those thugs bothering my sister, I had to stop myself from killing each one of them. If not for Chinami, I... I might well have. Thankfully, she managed to calm me down. I thanked her and arrested each one of those bastards."

"I know that hasn't put me in Kito's good books, but I really don't care. You do not threaten my family. No matter what."

Silent Tragedy

"Each member of this team, I do not care for, respect, or like. They all are Machiavellian, corrupt, and do not care for any of the pain and misery they spread. I do not know why the Prime Minister sent HypMics to this team. ...Or... maybe she didn't. I wouldn't put it past these three to steal HypMics from someone else and pass themselves off as the original Shizuoka team."

"In any case, Kadenokoji-san has issued an APB out on this team, for which I am glad. I will personally enjoy throwing each and every one of them in a cell."

[captnjacksparrow]

Hi, I love your blog and I read it every day... ❤️

I have a question, do you think that Sakura, Hinata or someone from the village knew or suspected the true feelings of Naruto and Sasuke?👀

That's right, in the manga, when Naruto is talking to Sakura about Sai, Naruto gets nervous or something like that, however the face that he puts in the manga is as if he was putting it to the test.

I don't know maybe I'm just hallucinating but I want to know your opinion. I'm sorry if you don't understand, my language is Spanish.

🍅🍅🍥🍥

Aahhh!!! Insanely interesting ask, Anon. I love this one!!!!

I think no one suspects their feelings between them but they know Naruto and Sasuke feels ‘something’ about each other to the point when something happens to one of them, the other would react in an intense manner. 

I mean, Kishi cannot put a scene , say Sakura, doubting their feelings for each other otherwise it would stir up a lot of trouble, that is, it would confirm something’s really going on between the two. (Which is not ‘typical’ of Shounen. Sigh!!!)

However, Kishi does things in his own way by making it as a joke or a casual thing. And I am going to include everyone from the Narutoverse, not just someone from Konoha.

PEOPLE WHO MILDLY ‘SHIPS’ NARUTO AND SASUKE IN NARUTOVERSE

Alright, people, Here ‘Ship’ means not in a romantical sense. But in a platonic or friendly sense.

HAKU

When I watched this series for the first time, I always wondered ‘What made Haku think that attacking Naruto would make Sasuke fall into the trap?’. 

Then I realized Sasuke was carrying Naruto around to protect him from Haku’s senbon attacks at any cost, which made Sasuke expose his weakness and Haku just fount it and used it against him. 

OROCHIMARU

Some other shippers claim ‘Forest of the Death’ Arc belonged to Ms.Pinky. But Orochimaru and Kabuto’s analysis proves it otherwise. But what did he found there?

Designing a lengthy password which Naruto cannot remember to lure Orochimaru out.

When Naruto came to save Sasuke, he panicked and asked Naruto to ‘Run Away’ and gave up the scroll.

Fought back Orochimaru after seeing Naruto got knocked out.

Kabuto found that Sasuke was overusing Sharingan even to the point of enduring Cursed Seal’s pain to protect Naruto.

KABUTO

“Hardly behaving as a man”... LOL. 

OROCHIMARU AGAIN

This whole battle is to provoke Naruto using Sasuke’s name. And when Orochimaru used the word, ‘My Sasuke-kun’... Naruto just got deranged to the point of sprouting 4 Tails. 

KAKASHI

Sasuke is Naruto’s strength. Kakashi said it. It’s canon, Guys.

KIBA

It’s surprising that Kiba also knows that Naruto gets Hot-Headed when it comes to Sasuke. 

KABUTO AGAIN

Gosh!!!! These Orochimaru and Kabuto duo maybe absolute trash. But they do know something about Naruto and Sasuke.

PAIN

LOL.... How did Nagato know about Naruto chasing Sasuke??? Is this some International news? 

ITACHI

I always wondered as to why Itachi posed this particular question to him? A question which forces Naruto to choose an option. An impossible option which Itachi chose and endured a lot of pain for. Naruto protecting the village is obvious. Why did he ask Naruto about Sasuke? What did he saw?

The answer is in part 1. When Itachi visited the village after Hiruzen’s death, he ‘planned’ to kidnap Naruto. When Sasuke came in between, Itachi just beat the crap out of him. 

But Naruto was so furious to draw Kyuubi Chakra to protect Sasuke. Itachi noticed this very well and hence came to this conclusion. That’s why Itachi didn’t pay any attention to Sasuke. LOL. Which made Sasuke go crazy.

KARIN

This doesn’t need any explanation, does it??? Probably Sasuke might’ve reacted to his name and Karin noticed it. Who knows? Anyways, it’s interesting that a person outside of Konoha could able to connect Sasuke with Naruto, meaning, Karin could able to see something’s going on between them.

KURAMA

ROFL..... There’s no one better in this world to ask Naruto, this particular question, other than Kurama.

KURAMA AGAIN

“What kind of flavour did that Sasuke’s lips have?”.... Gosh!!! This is such an useless scene. Most importantly, Naruto is getting Nose Bleed here. 

ITACHI AGAIN

No doubt, Itachi is the No.1 shipper of SNS. He knew Naruto can change Sasuke.

OBITO

Well, Obito was right about one thing... Naruto’s death can bring powers to Sasuke. But he was wrong about underestimating both of them, that is, they will fight on Obito’s accord. 

OROCHIMARU AGAIN

One of my favorite underrated SNS scene. There is no mention of Pink Trash or anyone else. Well, he lived with him for 3 years. He is the only person who can read Sasuke’s expression perfectly. 

TOBIRAMA

Gosh!!!!! This!!!!! This is just an alien level shipping. Tobirama, a person who rarely compliments, but when he does, it must be damn excellent. Like he was so happy to see Minato was so fast in performing Hiraishin no Jutsu, a jutsu he invented. He openly admitted his admiration 3 times. 

When he complimented the ‘Level of Unison’ achieved by two 16 year old boys, which takes YEARS to achieve is so heartwarming. Because, only we, the audience, knew that Naruto and Sasuke fought together for the last time way back when they were 12 in Land of Waves arc. Even then they could team up together without any direct communication. 

Damn!!!!

OROCHIMARU AGAIN

This is another underrated scene and Orochimaru scores for SNS. We saw Naruto was crying rivers when Obito sucked everyones’s chakra. Sasuke’s face seems to be in a bad mood. 

Orochimaru really is the Mood Finder of Sasuke.

PEOPLE OF KONOHA

Damn!!!! This is my all time favourite!!!!!! 

This is when Ebisu Sensei, fondly remembers how Naruto has grown from a Deadlast (in Episode 1) to an Hero (End of Pain Arc). During one of his memories, People of Konoha appreciates Naruto for stopping Gara from Invading Konoha and Bring Tsunade as Fifth Hokage. When it comes to retrieving Sasuke, this panel appears.

Even people of Konoha themselves knows that Naruto will be depressed if Sasuke is not there in Konoha with him. 

I mean, for every achievements Naruto made, the villagers praised him. When Jiraiya was dead, the villagers felt, ‘Naruto will not lose heart, He’ll keep on going, like always’. But when it comes to Sasuke, the villagers implicitly felt that Naruto will be depressed. 

Kishi is showing us that everyone in Narutoverse understands the feelings between Naruto and Sasuke, but he didn’t drew the extent as to how far it goes. He just left it ambiguous. 

But one thing is sure,

‘Everyone knows that they both are connected somehow and both of them have certain influence on each other which no other person has in Narutoverse and they know that one will suffer without the other.’

[thefairyletters]

✨ Spooky Recs✨

I read a lot of fanfictions... More than I am proud of. I thought I should recommend as I go before I lose sight of their existence among the sea of my favorites.

Since past few days I have been craving for some creepy, unnerving fanfics that will keep me restless and awake at night. I remembered my favorites and wanted to read more of the kind so I looked up, patiently going through each story that sounded compelling. I also revisited old stories for nostalgia's sake.

Of course, rare as they are, in Naruto fandom no less, it's even harder to find a horror and mystery fic that is well written, not dropped under 2 chapters, and really keeps your attention.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Genre: Horror, Mystery, Comedy

I've rated 4 aspects of the work -

Writing – I don't judge writing based solely on the grammar and vocabulary. I also consider how the author expands upon a subject, if they are consistent with the facts, if they are able to keep the attention of the readers regardless of their creative writing skills.

Characters – If the characters are well-developed, in their given character, if OCs have any real significance to the story.

Plot – How gripping is the storyline, if the story sticks to its original plot, the structure of the story, plot holes.

Flow – Mother-of-slow-burn, slow-but-steady, steady, fast, I-am-speed

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When the flowers cry : TCOOKIES777 || M || AO3/FFN || SasuSaku || Goth Horror || Post-Canon, set during Blank Period || Ongoing

When one of the greatest medical-nin in the world goes missing in what should have been a simple delivery to the Land of Spring’s Hidden Snow Village, the rest of Team 7 must reunite to find her. But even the most powerful team of shinobi will find themselves challenged in a battle against the supernatural. With Sasuke's return, vengeful ghosts of the past will test him and his love.

My thoughts : One of the best stories I've read in a while, and top tier SS stories. I read this in one sitting. I never listen to music while reading, preferring silence, but for this one, I suggest you do as the author says. Also, keep some tissues and food with you. This story is major in mystery and minor in horror but otherwise full of SS fluff.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady, if a bit confusing (but that's why it's mystery)

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Kyuro : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

“Oh,” says Naruto, “well, its sort of like that. Except in this village, the story has a way more darker ending – it basically goes like this: the girl and the guy plan to run away together. The guy steals a bunch of treasure, and stashes it away. But then, when he goes to get the girl at her village, he kills her and decides to run away with all that money. But then he is killed by the guards of the girls village and now they're both dead and the treasure is hidden away somewhere”. Sasuke stares blankly at the blond, “that story makes no sense”.

My thoughts : I know you must be thinking the same thing as Sasuke – "makes no sense". I did too, but it's a pretty cool short story. It lies on the funny, creepy side that slowly starts to lose its funny touch. SS makes stupid mistakes later on but it could be because they are MCs. The ending is very ambiguous. It's not my favorite mystery but it is something. Enjoyable read but not something I will pick again.

Writing: 8/10

Characters: 8/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Fast

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Moon stuttering in the sky : xfrinz || T || AO3 || Gen || Mystery || Pre-Shippuden || One-shot

Kakashi is suspicious of many things about Haruno Sakura. Too many things about her don't make sense, with too many incongruous explanations.

My thoughts : Author of this story just summarised Pre-Shippuden in less than 4k words and made some tiny changes to it. Not much though. One of my favorite gen fics yet. Read it if you haven't yet. You'll feel more sad than thrilled tbh. But worth it.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: I-am-Speed

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Breath mints : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Comedy-Mystery || Post-Canon || Ongoing (maybe)

Their home no longer exists with the life it once had – in fact no settlement thrives anymore; they exist only in a snapshot that contradicts time itself. Families within their own homes sleep in a slumber that they cannot wake from. Those that were chatting on the street prior to the event simply drop their heads and remain unresponsive.

My thoughts : I picked it up for Mystery but I stayed for Comedy. But of course that's not to say supernatural elements in this story is not it, but it sure pales in comparison to effortless humor in this story. Lee and Kiba pair is something you don't see often but they get along too well here. Charactisation is on point as well. SS angst! + NS angst (but it's downplayed)

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady

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The Curse : sincerelyLen || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Horror || Post-Canon || Ongoing

Team 7 is unexpectedly assigned an S-Ranked Mission involving an unsolved mystery of 10 years. An eerie adventure that will test their teamwork, strengths, and greatest fears. Do you believe in Curses?

My thoughts : My all-time favourite horror Naruto fanfiction. To me, this sets the standard of how mystery and horror elements should be handled. I have never been able to get this story out of my mind even it's been years. Perfect charactisation of Team 7 with Smart-yet-Stupid!Sakura, I-can-fight-aliens-and-reanimated-corpses-but-keep-ghosts-away-from-me!Naruto and I-dont-get-paid-enough-for-this!Sasuke. I especially love OCs here. They kinda reminds me of Pillars from KnY. You must read this story, loosely based on Zombie apocalypse + curse concept.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-Steady

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Silent High : Istoria || T || FFN || Gen || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

A bit of the Silent Hill series mixed in with Naruto. Trapped in an illusion whose rules are unknown, they struggle to find answers before darkness consumes them.

My thoughts : One of the best mystery fanfictions I've read. I especially loved how this story handled Genjutsu in the best possible way it could without it turning into some cliche, ghost story. Though really, this story has shown what my greatest fear actually is. I will never be able to leave my back open to a wheelchair. This story has simple writing yet it gives you creeps with the twists and turns. A must read one because it is unlike any other in this list.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

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Silence of the Damned : Daystar Clarion || T || FFN || Gen || Psychological Horror, Mystery(?) || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

When Naruto wakes up to a dead body in his bathroom, he begins a quick spiral into madness.

My thoughts : Listen to Halsey's Control while reading this. Quite chilling, deals with mental issues and morbid but in a fascinating way. It gives a new meaning to Dark!Naruto, but one that actually makes sense. I never saw the ending coming... I had something else in mind and I was convinced it would be, but nope. Here's a sequel to this One-Shot (Uzumaki's War) which I never picked up.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

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To the Victor : Letta || T || FFN || NaruSaku || Psychological Horror || Shippuden || One-Shot

Naruto loses the fight and Sakura is a trophy of war.

My thoughts : A very twisted NS, if you squint. It's not horror but it might as well be... it is still a disturbing story to see from the eyes of Sakura. Quite chilling to be in Sakura's shoes. But I love this because it is one shot and I loved the ending.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Steady

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Under the Skin : BukkakeNoJutsu || T || FFN || Team 8 || Body Horror || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

Your actions don't make you a monster. Your reasons do.

My thoughts : There's a reason why Shino is my favourite team 8 member. In my opinion, Shino is also one of the strongest Shinobi of his generation. His clan techniques are just that horrifying. This story is testament to that. He is so terrible.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

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Instant Message : Keelah || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Murder mystery || Modern AU || Incomplete

She gave him names to kill, in order not to be killed herself. But having blood on her hands was turning out to be much worse than dying. "…There's still round 2…3…4…" When does this game end? She asked. "Don't you see, Sakura?" He said, "It never does."

My thoughts : I read this story a long time ago and have read this twice. Personally, it has the most interesting concept of all stories in the list. It reminds me of Vocaloid series, "Bookmark of the end". Kind of. To those who are thinking of picking this up, go ahead! It's a great book and has one of the best suspense I've read in Fandom. BUT, it has been stopped in mother-of-all-cliffhangers and Author is MIA for 4 years now. But, all things considered, it remains to be one of the best stories I've read.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

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Monomoth : Ohtze || M || FFN/AO3 || SasuSaku || Horror || AU || Incomplete

Everything ends, eventually. Eight years after the war, Sakura's unhinged and Sasuke's obsessed. The fields are filled with corpses.

My thoughts : I read this story right after "The Curse", my favourite. From what I remember, Sakura and Sasuke are both mentally deranged, in different ways. Lots of death and gore to stomach, so not for weak readers. There's no speak of fluff in this one. Zero, Zilch, Nada. I wouldn't call it your classic 'Horror', but it is very disturbing, so psychological horror is more like it. Don't eat food while reading this one. Did I mention how Sakura is mentally disturbed beyond help in this one? And Sasuke is obsessed. If these suit your tastes, go ahead.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow

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I hope you enjoy this list. Let me know your opinion in comments.

[bazz-a]

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

TELL US EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR GENIUS WRITING PROCESS PLEASE

OMG ANON IM GONNA BLUSH EHDJXHSHF

well right at this moment I am drunk (yes I know it's been 12 hours since I've been drunk the last time but I received bad news so that's my excuse) and WRITING, so that's tip number 1!!!!!!!

jk that's not a tip (except that it kinda is........ now that I think about it I really like drinking wine while I write, especially hot and heavy scenes ((🥸👀)) )

but ok ok ok writing process!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm very chaotically organised in life as a whole but I think that doesn't really apply to my writing.....? I'm have many self-reflecting moments as I answer you and surely the wine is helping

I'm gonna insert gifs everytime I paused to think a lot ok

ok so. as for organisation skills, I have a folder on google drive for the fic and each chapter is a different document. I also have a different document for the outline + backstory of the characters.

as for the outline, I decided to do it when I was on ch21. up until that point I was just making it up as I went but that was when I was like ok NO that's enough you crazy bitch you need to know how this shit is gonna end, so I sat down and I wrote the topics of chapter by chapter

but ANOTHER TIP IS THAT!!!!! things not always go according to plan lol

I'm already deviating from my outline right at this very moment as I write ch25! like, it's nothing major that's gonna change anything in the future but yk how it goes, I drank some wine, put Sakura and Kakashi in a particular situation that wasn't in the plans, and the rest is just happening (don't ask don't ask don't ask HAHFJZJSHDJS YOU'lL SEE WHEN I POST)

OH OH OH THATS ACTUALLY A GOOD POINT ANON OK! OK LETS GO

let your characters act for themselves!!!!!!!! that sounds like CRAZY talk coming from this drunk bitch but I swear it isn't, hear me out ok!!!!! sometimes your characters are just gonna lead you somewhere, and even if it wasn't what you were planning, let it happen!

this happened in ch17 for me! I wasn't planning on the bench situation, actually what was gonna happen is that they would talk and then leave, and their first kiss was gonna be on the next day! but then the bench thing just happened and I'm really happy it did

so yeah, let your characters lead the way when they feel like it

god I sound absolutely deranged

let me see what else

I can't believe so far my advice has been "drink and let the fictional characters speak to you"

WHAT ELSE!!!!

ok so I guess it's good to know yourself!!! like for example, I know a lot of people set goals on themselves. I don't do that, I'm a person that always leaves deadlines to the last possible minute bc I thrive under pressure and that's when I function best, so I know that adding goals wouldn't increase my productivity, it would just make me push it away until like a day before the deadline I set on myself so that I'd just spend 21 hours writing nonstop to meet the goal

so that doesn't work for me! but if you're a person who needs organisation and stuff like that to function, it'd be nice to give it a try!

also, I try to respect myself as much as I can. sometimes you just don't feel like writing and that's ok! it's tough when there's pressure to update and all but it's better to wait and then deliver a good product then rush through it when you're not feeling it

ALSO! you need to enjoy yourself! you're writing for yourself above anything else, and you need to enjoyyyt itttttt 🥰🥰

ok I think that's it......... I hope this answer was good lol thanks for asking, Anon!!! 💚

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 20 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Emiya, Sakura, Ishtar)

Previous Part: One - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

_____

Once again, they had a day off from duties at work and with classes.

Hakuno slipped out of bed early, rummaging through the kitchen a moment before noting that their breakfast options were lacking. She scribbled a note in Gil’s language for him, telling him that she’d be right back after a trip over to the store. Her shoes were slipped on and her coat wrapped around her person. Then she was setting out.

She jogged to her car, keys in hand when the figure moved before her.

“Hello again, mystery woman.”

Ishtar stood in her path, crossing her arms over her chest. Her clothing was rumbled, her hair was in disarray. There were a few leaves hanging in her hair.

“Well, to say I’m surprised is an understatement,” the woman began.

“Are you sleeping in my yard?”

“That’s not important! You have Gilgamesh!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hakuno told her, moving to grab for the car handle and finding the woman shoving at her hand.

“The blond man you’re letting in your home-“

“My husband?”

“He’s not your husband! Trust me, if you think he is, it’s because he’s deceived you. The man uses women. He abuses their love and-“

“I think I’ve heard enough.” Hakuno motioned at the house. “If I find you here again, I’m going to call the police and let them take you home.”

“You think your police can take me? Besides, I’ll have them look into your precious husband. We’ll see who doesn’t know what when they’re through with you.”

And she’d thought that Rin was bitchy. All she could do was throw the woman a look for that.

She sounded catty, like someone used to getting her way and not getting it right now.

“We’ll just see then,” Hakuno told her.

A hand pressed to her arm.

Instinctively, perhaps only because she knew who the goddess was, Hakuno let that magic of hers flare. The two of them looked one another in the eye, both sensing what she was doing at the exact same moment.

“…How?” Ishtar moved a step back. “Magic isn’t supposed to exist in this time. It’s supposed to be gone.”

“Such a shame.”

“HAKUNO!”

Gilgamesh was running out, his jacket forgotten and his feet bare as he rushed forth. The robes were barely doing anything as the man opened those gates and-

“I will speak with you again,” Ishtar threatened, her person beginning to fade immediately as the man came running for her. “Don’t allow him close. He will kill you.”

Thank goodness a goddess who turned him into a cat was here to help her.

Gilgamesh slammed his blade into thin air where the goddess had been, cursing for a moment before Hakuno quickly yanked off her coat and wrapped it around the weapon. They couldn’t be seen doing that kind of thing. Gods, if any of her neighbors saw such lunacy…

Just because she called the Ishtar bluff didn’t mean she wanted to test her luck.

“What did she do?”

“Nothing,” Hakuno told him, but the man wasn’t listening. She felt herself yanked into his arms, with Gilgamesh looking around at the world around them and pulling her back to the house.

“You should have awakened me.”

“I was going to the store-“

“Hakuno, you are my woman. You don’t just go to the store.” The man cursed again, trying her door and finding it locked. She could already see the pissed off mentality coming over him, making him ball his fists in preparation for simply banging and banging on the door until it opened.

“I have the key,” she told him, quickly moving before him and unlocking the door. As it opened, she felt her feet lose touch with the ground, the man hauling her inside before slamming the door shut.

“Gil-“

The sword and the coat were dropped. Her shirt was yanked off a moment before the man was inspecting her.

The romance of being pinned to the wall was outdone by the sheer absurdity of having him stripping her down in her entryway. And there was nothing she could do since he was cursing and all but ignoring the words from her lips.

She just waited.

“What did she tell you?”

“That you’re a deranged lunatic who uses women and then abandons them.”

He waited.

How much time do you think I waste on idiots?!

“I didn’t get told anything else,” she added. “Gil-“

His lips found hers again, his mouth moving roughly. This wasn’t really what she was in the mood for this morning though. Food, getting her shit done for Monday, maybe some cuddling; that was all fine.

Kissing the living daylights out of her?

“Gil,” she tried again.

“You are being brought back with me,” he told her, stopping her from anything she could have said. “You were wise not to listen to her. She cannot do anything to me so long as you are with me. You are going to remain at my side and in my bed. You’ve already agreed to be mine and proven that you lo-“

“Gil, you sleep in my bed,” Hakuno pointed out.

The man laughed, the amusement not quite reaching his eyes.

“…Can I get dressed now?”

This conversation was a mess. They were both a mess. All she really wanted to do was go out, get something nice for them to have at the house in the mornings, and then relax today.

Life was immensely difficult.

“I will be prepared to go with you in a few minutes,” he told her simply, sealing their lips together in another of those deep kisses of his. “Do not leave this time without me.”

“I left a note.”

He glanced to the note on the fridge, that smile finally reaching his eyes.

“…What?”

“You wrote it in my tongue.”

“You can’t read Japanese, Gil. Of course I did.”

The man pulled the note down, taking it with him as he headed for the bedroom.

Had she written something wrong? While she wasn’t the best at writing, she had still felt confident enough with his writings to know how to write be right back, I’m off to the market.

Her clothes were all disheveled now, thanks to him.

Such a state didn’t seem to be a problem for Gilgamesh, who came back in another of his button ups. His hair had been slicked back while he’d been away. His jewelry…

“What’s that?”

“You have been running around entirely deprived of any jewelry these passed few weeks.” Gilgamesh placed the necklace around her neck, latching it into place for her. “As Ishtar’s pathetic appearance has made me see, I’ve not been treating you enough as someone I have chosen for myself. I’m rectifying such matters now.”

“I don’t need jewelry.”

“And that’s precisely why you need it.”

That didn’t make any sense.

When had Gilgamesh ever made sense though? She shook her head before grabbing her coat and putting it back on.

Gilgamesh kept his arm around her to the car.

This time, when she went to get in, there wasn’t a goddess to get between her and the vehicle. They backed out and headed off without issue. What’s more, the moment they made it to the store, Gilgamesh’s hand was firmly in her own.

He’s lost it.

Ishtar had been a menace and cursed him to begin with, so it wasn’t like she thought he was overreacting. It was simply that the goddess wasn’t here and there was no signs of her heading their way. There was no need for him to go this overboard with protecting her.

She made their trip at the store quick.

What’s more, she took the time to pull into the coffee shop again, watching Gilgamesh be all too happy to walk into the place and order their drinks.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh glanced down at her, motioning for her to come closer. “When we get home, I want to know what’s left in this wedding process.”

Of course, he did.

She sighed, welcoming her coffee and turning away.

They went home, curling up on the couch and looking at their research together again.

All the books and pages that Gilgamesh had been marking during the week were laid out across the table. The collection of texts and drawings were spread out, leaving them both to begin the process of preparation.

“I don’t think I’m drawing this right.”

Gilgamesh leaned over her, shrugging. “I don’t believe the drawings truly matter. It’s the magic and effort that needs to be done that matters.”

Right.

She tried to use a few bursts of magic here and there, but…

Was there something that they were missing?

Her attention went back to the books again, reviewing what she was seeing in the texts and comparing it to their other notes. With the reading and reviewing, she began to pace a little.

They’d managed to save Gilgamesh from being trapped in the body of a cat.

Time travel shouldn’t have been that impossible in comparison.

What was she missing?

Maybe blood?

There was a lot of mention of blood in these texts. Here, she’d figured the authors were just a little morbid for some reason but…

She glanced over at Gil, debating the thought.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh motioned her over, pulling her onto his lap when she came. “We’re going to attempt this once again.”

“It wasn’t working before.”

“I will allow you to borrow some of my energy for the process. Perhaps the problem isn’t what we’re doing, but to what amount of power we’re using.”

So…

Like a flashlight with only one good battery?

“Alright.”

They both focused this time, the king letting his own magic move. Strangely enough, there was something nice about his magic mingling with hers. It felt warm. The feel of his person pressed against her own was making her lean into him more. Her eyes closed and her focus was zoned in on the magic alone for a moment.

“…Gilgamesh!”

“My king!”

Hakuno opened her eyes, staring through the king’s Gates to see two figures looking back. The green haired person waved happily, running down from the large throne as the woman nearby lost her hood in her need to rush towards them.

“Enkidu! Siduri!” Gilgamesh laughed, hugging her closer as Hakuno tried to move out of the way. “Excellent! Then my plans have worked!”

“What are you doing there, my king?” the woman shook her head at him. “Come! Let’s get you-“

“I am marrying my woman here,” Gilgamesh told them, making them all pause.

“Oh?” The green haired person smirked. “What kingdom are you in?”

“One called Fuyuki. It is located outside of our realm. I will require preparations to be made in Uruk while I am here. Enkidu! Inform the advisors about my woman and begin the preparations of a collection of fabrics. My woman’s shape is similar to that of Siduri.”

His woman.

How the hell did he know Siduri’s shape, anyway?!

“Siduri,” Gilgamesh looked over at the woman. “As my attendant, I will require notices and-“

“I understand, my king.” Siduri informed him, bowing. “May I say, I believe your woman has a chest a bit more prominent than my own.”

“Make adjustments as you see fit.”

“Wait-“

Hakuno went to speak, but the two on the other side of the rip in space and time were already calling to others for things.

“When will you be coming here?” Enkidu asked.

“A month’s time,” Gilgamesh replied. “I have informed the humans here that I would permit them to see me claim Hakuno in this realm. Once we are done with that, I will bring her home with me.”

For a short time!

She opened her mouth before finding the being turning around.

“Siduri!” Enkidu laughed a bit. “Watch Uruk! I need to be there for this!”

They needed-

Hakuno found the being tumbling through their path, shocking her enough to close the path between their time and that of Uruk.

The being all but fell onto them. Their body smushing her against Gilgamesh’s own as they landed. Their laughter echoed with Gilgamesh’s own.

“Ah! It’s colder here,” the being told them.

“My friend,” Gilgamesh laughed, smacking the being ‘s back so loudly that it cracked. She was still stuck between their persons, finding herself smothered as the two spoke.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I have never been that easy to kill! However, Hakuno has provided assistance.”

“She’s lovely.”

“She makes fools for friends, but perhaps, with you here, I can finally disconnect her from that white haired pest.”

“Guys!” Hakuno squirmed between them.

“So we’re enjoying your wedding her to yourself?”

“In a month. During that time, you can enjoy this modern age with me. There’s a contraption that allows your hair to be dried after a bath. There’s also methods of collecting texts in smaller forms and sending information over various kingdoms without traveling an inch.”

“Oh?”

Gilgamesh motioned at the television. “There’s plays on the portrait too.”

“I need to see this-“

“GIL! ENKIDU!”

The two glanced down at her.

What the hell was she supposed to do with two of these guys hanging around her house? Gilgamesh she could explain. The man was supposed to be her fiancé. He’d explained how they’d met and everyone was unsuspecting.

But Enkidu-

“Since you are here, I need someone as my best man,” Gilgamesh told the being. “You will need to fulfill this task.”

“I suppose that’d be fine.” The being pulled her hair into their hands, playing with it idly. “What will I need to do for this?”

“Hakuno will fill you in. Let me grab something for us to drink while it’s explained.”

Why was she explaining this?!

The being ran their hands into her hair, leaning over her a little with a growing smile.

“…I um… Hello, Enkidu.”

“Hello, Hakuno. I see you’ve fallen for my king.”

“I am trying to get him home to you and Siduri.”

The being just hummed, hugging her a little. “Perhaps, but Gilgamesh is quite a stubborn being. I doubt there’s anything you can do to make him listen.”

“So, you know he’s stubborn?”

“Terribly.”

Thank-

The door was being pounded on.

I swear, if I live through this, I’m going to go life in the woods.

Hakuno could see her phone lighting up, Emiya calling her no doubt to make sure she was available.

“Hakuno-“

“Gil, make Enkidu inconspicuous!” Hakuno pushed the being the king’s way, hurrying to the door with her phone to her ear. “Emiya-“

“Hakuno!” Sakura was on the other end of the line. “Emiya and I came to check on G! We figured it might be nice to bring some cat food we found and Emiya needs help studying!”

Shit!

“They want to see G!” Hakuno hissed towards Gil.

“Open the door and let them in.”

Let them in?

SHE DIDN’T HAVE A CAT!

Gilgamesh looked at her panicking, the phone in her hand and laughed. The man moved forth, pulling the door open just in time for a fluffy golden cat to leap into her arms.

The green eyes looked up at her a moment before Sakura was cooing away.

“So the pest is doing better,” Emiya growled.

“You both are audacious, coming without being invited,” Gilgamesh countered. “Hakuno and I were just brushing G out and enjoying some research.”

“Gorgeous!” Sakura cooed to the cat. “I was so worried about you this week. I’m glad you’re well. You’ll need to come with Hakuno to school next week!”

The being, in cat form, meowed happily before cuddling against her.

She could already see Gil shooting the cat a warning look.

[sexyshakespeare]

Sasuke comes home - Part 1: Nostalgia hurts

I was finally back. And I wasn’t looking forward to it. 

The chunins at the gate nodded at me dutifully. There was a sense of formality and discomfort behind their carefully composed faces. I nodded back and crossed the threshold. I took in the sight of Konoha before me. It had changed so much. 

Everything had changed so much. 

I looked around with trepidation, though I imagined nobody around me could tell. I wanted to disappear, run back out the gate and into the forest where I belonged, a part of the shadows. Instead, I sucked in a deep breath and walked on towards the hokage’s office. That building was definitely still where it had always been. It gave me a sense of calm.  I watched children dodge me out of the corner of my eye. That was for the best, I was no good with children. I awkwardly strolled, one arm tugging at my pack. I quickly realized that my attire was not at all fit for the village. I climbed the stairs to the hokage’s room, praying I’d see a familiar face soon. At the door, I could hear an all too familiar voice behind the door, an exceedingly annoying one. He was talking to Kakashi. Why was he here anyway, he ought to have been at home with Hinata.  I pushed the door and walked in, not wanting to make a ceremony out of it. As I swung my pack to the ground, I heard him exclaim, “AH Sasuke! You’re back! You’re staying now aren’t you? You smell awful, when did you have a bath last, my God.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Uruse na-” is all I said as I looked at Kakashi for instruction.

“Good to have you back. We have your old apartment ready for you. Take this for your expenses. Let me know if you need anything else. And as always, good work.”  I didn’t meet his gaze, but nodded silently and took the envelope and keys from him. I lifted my pack up and turned for the door, glancing at Naruto for a second. He smiled at me. It was the only warm gesture I had witnessed in years now. It felt strange. I loosened my shoulders and grimaced at the door. “Yeah I do need a bath.” He started to laugh and clap at my back, ruining the moment as per usual Naruto.  “Oh and Sasuke, Sakura is waiting for some word from you. She’ll be at the hospital. Do get back to her.”, Kakashi’s voice sounded as I closed the door behind us. I felt the back of my neck turning sweaty. 

Sakura. How was I supposed to face her. What was I even supposed to say.  “Sakura chan’s missed you loads- datte bayou! You need to meet her”, Naruto said chirpily. “Yeah yeah. I will-” I shrugged it off the best I could, but I could tell her would not let it go, so I tried a different tactic. “How’s married life-”, I looked at him and smiled slightly.  That hit the bullseye. Just that much was enough to make this fool blush from head to toe. “Oh you know- it’s all good- I-”. I looked at him pointedly and said, “How’s- Hinata..” At this, Naruto stared blankly back at me till he looked like he would implode. I started to chuckle at him as we walked towards my shitty apartment road. “SASUKE- I can’t tell you something like that- that’s- you’re a real sly, disgusting bastard you know- Sakura chan doesn’t have a clue-”  My smile dropped as he brought up Sakura again. Great. He’d pester me to go see her again. I better focus on this wedded bliss of his. “SO- Naruto-kun.That’s what she calls you right?” “Y-yes. It’s fucking weird for you to call me that. UGH you’re ruining it”, he cringed. That was a rare sight. You only ever saw other people cringing at Naruto, not the other way round. 

I opened the lock on the door, and pushed the door in. As Kakashi had said, it was all dusted and aired out. These people spent too much time on me, I could’ve managed this little chore on my own. I stared at the wall with melancholy. There were no pictures hanging anywhere, or little curios. I had thrown out all the cat figurines Itachi used to collect, after smashing them first.  My eyes clouded over for a second, as the memories of living in this dingy apartment room filled my mind like a storm.  “Ahh Hinata is getting more and more beautiful every day. AND YOU KNOW WHAT. SHE’S SO CLOSE TO BEATING MY RECORD AT ICHIRAKU RAMEN.”  Thank God for this idiot. I smiled as his voice brought me back to the present. I turned to him, putting my pack down near my bed and took off my loose turban. My rinnegan was free now. He was very well acquainted with it after all.  Naruto beamed at me for a bit and we just stood there looking at each other. I know he felt what I felt. I know it. And it was good to be home, just for that minute at least. After that, the awkwardness set in. I cleared my throat a bit, signalling him to leave me alone. Thankfully, the message was received. 

“Alright then sasuke. You settle in. You know where to find me- OH wait you don’t. I moved to a bigger place for me and Hinata-”  “Yeah yeah, I’ll find you- just ask anyone where the hero of Konoha lives and have them walk me there to get an autograph-”  He blushed at that. Stupid bastard was forever humbled. I wish I had known how to be that way 5 years ago. God, I felt so stupid. Uzumaki Naruto was 10 times the man I ever was. This, Uzumaki Naruto. 

I was about to shut the door behind him, my thoughts straying to the bathroom and how I’d have to at least hose down everything before I had a bath in there-unless these generous fuckers thought of that too. I almost groaned at the thought- Kakashi cleaning my shitpot. That was just too painful to imagine- albeit amusing.  “Oh and Sasuke-kun. Go see Sakura-chan. That’s what she calls you, right?”  My simple thoughts were yanked to a fearsome, complex maze of emotions in an instant. I gave Naruto the hardest death stare I could manage. He just grinned at me stupidly and climbed down the stairs.  I shut the door and sighed deeply. NO- Now I will shit in peace for a while. Then worry about everything else.  The bathroom was indeed, very clean, too fucking clean. There was new soap and a toothbrush, with toothpaste. I looked at myself in the mirror. My strange eyes stared back at me. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I looked like some kind of deranged animal, one that had retired from being feral. My hair was overgrown, but I didn’t mind that. Would I have to start minding that now that I had to integrate into society? Did I have to integrate into society?  How the hell would a one-armed, creepy, sullen looking Uchiha murderer like me integrate into society. I didn’t want to hope for a normal life, that was asking too much. Why was everyone trying so hard to give it to me.  I squeezed some paste onto the toothbrush. I didn’t even think I’d remember how to do this properly, until my hand just moved on its own. I smirked at myself when I was done. Teeth clean- one thing ticked off on my list of things to do to start a new life.  I took off my ragged cloak and pants, stepping into the shower cubicle. Let’s see here- hot water, wow. The soap felt amazing on my skin. I used to love being clean back in the day. There’s a specific soap I used too- I ought to buy some for myself later. That’s it. People buy things for themselves all the time. I can do that too.  I tried to pick out the grime from under my fingernails, and added yet another thing to my list of things to buy. I probably had a nail cutter around here somewhere. The dirt washed out of my hair, swirling into the drain. It gave me immense satisfaction. I felt the tired animal in me being whisked away. 

I smiled to myself. I might just pull this off.  Sasuke-kun? 

That is what she called me. She’s always called me that. It didn’t mean much to me back then. It still doesn’t really. Hinata does that for Naruto. It’s a form of endearment, right? Sakura has always given me affection. Affection I didn’t deserve. Affection I didn’t want.. Affection I didn’t know how to want.   I was completely alone, and safe. I felt comfortable, standing under the shower, not hearing a sound from the outside. It was okay to picture her face. It felt okay. I never ever let myself usually. It felt awful to even try. Sakura’s face made me feel like the most vile, cruel, beast that had ever walked the face of this earth.  I clenched my fist, fighting back the tears. I can’t look at her face. I can’t. I was a monster to her. I’ve always been. She’s forgiven me because that’s how she is. She’s a better human being than I am. She needs to stay away from me now for her sanity. I’m a broken thing. I should tell her that, forcefully if I must, and let that be that. 

Sasuke-kun.  She wouldn’t leave me just with that. It’s her. I closed my eyes, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. Why won’t she give up on me.  Naruto’s face loomed in front of me now. I cringed at the sudden change of scenery in my head. He never gave up on me either. I turned off the water and stepped out, smiling to myself. They never gave up on me.  Wrapping the towel around my waist, I considered it. Naruto is fine. He has a life that’s separate from me, a very happy one. Sakura on the other hand.. She wants me to love her. I can’t love her. I don’t know how to love someone.  I don’t know how to love someone adequately. Maybe I do love her, but not the way she would want.  I looked at myself in the mirror, the stub of an elbow poking back at me in the reflection. Sasuke-kun. I looked away from my reflection as a small smile threatened to grow on my lips. I didn’t even deserve the way she said my name. Her pink hair, and pink personality sure did look cute on her. Why would she want my darkness around that. I can hardly stand it, dampening her spirit like that.  Sakura-chan. It was strange to even think those words. I didn’t want to belittle her by saying that. It’s something you say to babies or to a woman you don’t respect. Sakura could beat the hell out of you if you belittled her.  Sakura-chan. Ridiculous.  I frowned as I realized that he still calls her that. Ano yaro. He’s married to Hinata and still calls her Sakura-chan. Ridiculous. She can still put him in his place after all these years. Doesn’t it bother her? Sakura-chan. I put on the spare clothes left for me there by the Sasuke Welcoming team, whoever they were. First thing’s first, I had to buy myself some essentials and clothes. Pocketing my keys and money, I opened the door.  Sakura-chaaan, I muttered under my breath. I’d never do something as stupid as that to show my affection for her. 

[artlessictoan]

ao3 req for femme sak/butch tema where they’re at a con and tema is a cosplayer with a big fuck off weapon. gotta admit, the biggest difficulty was who the fuck they’d be cosplaying as since it turns out I’m not familiar with many gigantic weapon wielding characters in any of the things I watch or play.. I was sorely tempted to have them cosplaying as themselves for a while there.

(requests open)

(ao3 mirror)

---

This place was too loud, and crowded, and she was sorely regretting wearing an outfit with quite so many frills and petticoats – no matter how cute she looked in it, the heat of a thousand bodies packed together in a poorly ventilated hall was just not worth it.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, what was the point in dressing up, I don't think anyone's even looked at me since we got here.”

Naruto was still waving goodbye to the kid who’d asked to have her picture taken with his particularly campy take on Aquaman, though her words quickly had him giving her a Look out of the corner of his eyes, a knowing smirk plastered across her face. “Your ego is showing,” he sang.

She was definitely not pouting. “Easy for you to say, how many photos have you been in so far?”

“Yeah, but I asked to be in most of those.” He had to jog to keep up with her long strides, but he still managed to throw out several compliments to some of the other cosplayers they passed by.

“Exactly! How are you so confident just walking up to complete strangers and asking that?”

“You just gotta be more like me,” he said, and it was a testament to their friendship that he knew exactly what she was going to say in response to that, because the second she opened her mouth, he interrupted her. “Loud and with absolutely zero shame!”

Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that.

Together, they navigated their way around a large group of very excited teens clustered around an artist’s stall, her friend still nattering at her side, “It's your first time at a con, of course it takes some getting used to, don't be so hard on yourself.”

He was right, annoyingly, but she’d always been something of a perfectionist and she’d put so much time and effort into her elaborate cosplay – hours of researching patterns and materials, practising various sewing techniques before she ever even touched the base dress she’d managed to discover hidden in a charity shop after almost two weeks of searching, hell, she’d even had to learn how to dye cloth in order to get the perfect colours for her grand idea – just a little appreciation of her work would be nice.

“I’m pretty sure no one is impressed with me,” she said, pulling at the ruffles lining her bodice, “I’ve seen at least six other Princess Peaches wondering around and they’re all way more convincing than I am.” And by convincing, what she really meant was slender and delicate.

Both things with she was decidedly not.

Naruto clearly saw her reasoning, because he was quick to try and pull her out of it. “You’re exaggerating!”

“No one wants to take a picture of a buff Princess Peach.”

“Hey-” he grabbed her gloved hand and pulled her away to a relatively quiet area, his voice and expression deadly serious “-you look amazing and I won’t hear another word otherwise, buff femmes are a gift to the world and you should be proud.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed him back with a snort. “I know that dummy, I’m not feeling sad, I’m just pissed that no one here has any taste.”

Indeed, her body was another thing she worked very hard to perfect and she was absolutely not ashamed to show it off. Though it did make finding an equally – if not more – strapping butch who’d treat her like the princess she absolutely deserved to be a little difficult. She was a simple girl, with simple tastes, all she wanted was a handsome woman who could bench Sakura’s not inconsiderable bodyweight.

“You sure you’re not just sulking, because you’re not the most popular girl in town?”

“Do you want to get punched? Because that right there is the kind of talk that will get you pun…” Her voice cut out in a breathy gasp.

Samus Aran herself was casually waltzing down the aisle.

Sakura grabbed Naruto's arm for support, as every hopelessly gay bone in her body crumbled to dust.

His asking what was wrong went completely ignored, she could only stare at the vision marching between tables, the crowd instinctively parting before her, like minnows before a shark, all eyes turning to follow her strong, confident strides.

“Daaaaamn.” Naruto had apparently followed her hungry gaze, because he let out a long, appreciative whistle. “How long do you think that getup took to make?”

Unlike the handful of other Samus cosplays she'd seen today, this was the character as she was meant to be, fully armoured, shoulders wider than a bus, legs for days, well over six feet of pure Warrior. Her hand cannon was somewhat… exaggerated – compared to canon at least – but honestly, that just made Sakura's throat even drier.

And, just when she thought all air had long since vacated her body, Samus pulled off her helmet and the dark face with a roguish smirk and mess of blond curls pulled into a chaotic ponytail that was revealed stole the lingering gasp she didn’t know she still had in her.

“Hey. Sak. Sakura. Oi.” She vaguely heard the words coming from somewhere to her left, but could not bring herself to look away.

A rough hand slapped across her eyes.

“Hey!” she yelled – well, tried to yell, breathless as she was it came out more as a wheeze than anything even slightly intimidating – and whacked Naruto's hand away.

“Oh, good, you're still alive, you were starting to turn purple there, I was worried I'd lost you.”

Her glare was half-hearted at best, but it was probably a good thing he'd reminded her that she still had many important bodily functions that really shouldn’t be put on hold just because a pretty girl walked by. Though, now that she was thinking about it, she really wanted to sneak another peek at the vision of Raw Amazonian Energy that had left her in such a state to begin with.

The woman was now chatting to a very convincing Bayonetta, her wide grin showing off white teeth and crinkling her slightly crooked nose – it looked like it must've been broken at some point, but Sakura was very much into the rugged look, so frankly it just made her all the more mesmerised.

“You should go talk to her.”

She blinked out of her trance once more, as her head snapped around to stare at her best friend. “What? No. No way. How?”

Naruto, bless his heart, just smiled and said, “Walk up and tell her you really like her costume,” as though that wasn't such a monumentally impossible task that she wanted to weep just thinking about it.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“C'mon, it's not that hard," he said, dropping an arm across her shoulders. "I bet she gets it all the time, there's nothing to be embarrassed about!”

Sakura dug her heels into the floor as he gently, but determinedly, tried to push her forward. She might’ve had more success if she weren’t wearing such dainty pumps. “Exactly, she's probably sick of it and I should just leave her alone and admire her silently from afar.”

Naruto, bless his heart, looked at her like she was the stupidest person alive.

Honestly, she couldn't really say that she wasn't.

Before she could distract him by pointing out the stall selling ninja gear at the opposite end of the alley to where Samus was waving goodbye to Bayonetta, he was shoving her firmly in the direction of the beautiful thief of her heart, despite her legs’ adamant refusal to cooperate with his wishes.

“No, no, Naruto, don't you dare do this to me, I will end you, I will slit open your stomach and strangle you with your own intestines, I will-”

Her deranged muttering came to an abrupt halt when her friend carefully lifted her by the arms and threw her into the poor, unsuspecting woman’s chest.

The way she was caught wasn't half as suave and romantic as every period drama she'd ever watched had led her to believe it should be and the armour the woman was wearing was apparently made of steel, if the painful clanging of her forehead against it was anything to go by, but they both managed to stay standing and a deep, husky laugh was quickly washing away all memories of pain and embarrassment. And quite possibly her own name.

“Woah there, Princess,” a warm voice cooed softly, as Sakura finally managed to blink her vision back into place and stand up by herself. “You alright?”

She then made the terrible mistake of looking up, into the intense green eyes staring down at her, light curls of hair framing her strong, striking face like a halo – and that just had to be what she was, an angel, no earthly being had any right being so perfect – at which point she lost all higher brain functions. Perhaps she managed to make a strangled affirmative noise, because the woman gave a relieved smile and took a small step back, though her hand lingered against Sakura’s waist, ready to support her if needed.

“That’s good, the crowds can get a bit wild here, huh?”

Her mouth must’ve been acting on autopilot now, because she was speaking, before she even really processed the question, “Oh, it wasn’t the crowd it was-”

Naruto.

Flicking her gaze all around her, she searched for the tell-tale blond spikes of her best-friend-turned-worst-enemy, but, alas, he had melted away into the throng of people surrounding them, forever lost. Which was probably a smart idea, because when she next saw him, she was going to destroy the idiot.

“Never mind,” she said, giving one last glare to an innocent bystander, who very quickly turned around and started walking back the way they came, “just a friend being a dick.”

The woman’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but she quickly shrugged it away and lifted her ludicrous hand cannon to rest in the nook between her exaggerated shoulder pads and her neck. “Well, even if it was a bit violent, it’s nice to meet you; name’s Temari.”

Sakura just barely managed to stutter out her own name, before her eyes decided that this was the perfect time to greedily drink in her elaborately realistic cosplay while she was up close. The longer she looked, the more awed and – in the subtle way of a fellow creative witnessing a masterpiece – somewhat jealous she became. “That costume is just… amazing, are those actual LED lights or is it just glow paint? And how’d you work out the joints in the armour?”

“Not a damn clue! My brother’s the artist, I just model some of his work for him-” she flicked a glossy business card out of a small, hidden compartment in her arm cannon and held it out to her “-he does commissions if you’re interested.”

Well, shit. There went any hope of a common interest.

While Sakura was trying not to pout at the words ‘Black Ant Costuming’ and come up with a graceful escape route, Temari snorted. “And in return for doing all his advertising for him, I got him to make me a Samus costume, because no one else has the figure to do her justice.”

The wink she gave was at once both shamelessly theatrical and utterly devastating. Sakura was pretty sure that her brain had just melted into a puddle of love-struck goop and was no longer controlling her body’s actions – it was the only excuse she would accept for the breathless, swooning giggle she let out in response.

“Th-that you do,” Sakura said, only half aware of what she was even saying anymore.

Her extremely besotted state was probably clear to everyone in a ten-meter radius, but Temari had the grace not to point it out directly.

No, her eyes were too busy scanning up and down Sakura’s own outfit. “Not that you really need Kankuro’s help, you look super cute already.” Apparently Temari didn’t notice the blood rushing to her head fast enough to explode it, because she barrelled on without a care for her heart’s wellbeing, “That dress… are those the lesbian flag colours, or is my bi ass just reading into things again?”

Shit, she was definitely making a weird face by this point. “I-I wasn’t expecting anyone to notice-” she said, her voice sounding a million miles away.

Temari leaned down a little, the golden-brown skin of her cheeks turned just slightly red and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You know, I actually ship Samus and Peach real fuckin’ hard, and you are straight-up adorable, mind if we take a cute shippy pic together? Just a hug is fine if you’re not comfortable wi-”

Sakura had spent many years trying to smother that loud, aggressive, unrestrained side of herself under layers of shy, demure femininity. How well it had historically worked was up for debate, but, now, in the face of a gorgeous woman who ticked every one of her boxes – and several she didn’t realise she had, she thought, once more eyeing up the oversized weapon Temari waved about with ease – her carefully constructed façade was immediately thrown out the window.

“NARUTO!”

All around her, people jumped, even Temari flinched and took a step back. Just as she was getting ready to yell again, she saw a familiar face peek up from behind an artist’s table; she knew he wouldn’t have gone far when there was the opportunity to watch Sakura fail at flirting to enjoy.

She pulled her phone out of her purse and threw it at him. “Hurry up and get over here, you’re taking pictures of us.”

Just barely saving her phone from an untimely meeting with the cold hard ground, he clambered over the table he was hiding behind, apologising profusely to the poor vendor whose stock he was rearranging.

Sakura paid him no mind, spinning back to face a slightly bewildered – but very amused – Temari. “Hold me bridal-style while I kiss your cheek.”

A single brow raised, before that smug grin that had so captivated Sakura in the first place returned and she was effortlessly hoisted in two strong arms. She was so thrilled to be there; she didn’t even think to complain about the hard plastic covering them. Especially not when Temari whispered in her ear, “As you wish, my Princess.”

---

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Twenty-One: Sanity ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

The rumors, though he couldn’t know for sure, Sasuke was convinced had started long before he returned to Konoha. About how he was unhinged. Deranged. Insane. The longer his journey went on - the more desperate his actions became - the more depraved the people of Konoha assumed him to be.

Oh, but if only they knew the city of blood and bone they called home...the foundation built on the bodies of his kinsmen beginning with Madara’s betrayal. If only they knew just how much he had to avenge...to bring justice to.

And in reality, it went much further than that. The very system of shinobi had been crafting villages out of corpses since their foundings. Hence his wish to wipe out the prior Kage. To clear the slate, and make way for a new era free from the ideals of the people that had brought them to the brink of extinction.

Insanity in the eyes of many...but he’d thought the notion sound. The only way to let a dying tree recover...is to remove the rotting branches that hinder it. Only then can the wound close, and the flora flourish. If you leave what is diseased, it will only spread once you turn your back until the entire thing withers.

They claim now that those in power are leaving behind the ways of the past.

...he’ll wait and see.

For now, he’s back in the village of his birth. A place of conflicted feelings. It was here, for seven years, he lived with his clan. Not all happy memories, but...all he has left of them. And yet here, too, were they murdered for daring to stand up for themselves and against their oppression.

Only recently as the council been outed, the clans united against their executive orders. Having narrowed his gaze to tending to Konoha, rather than attempt to cure the world...Sasuke hopes this will be a large first step in trimming Konoha of its hindered branches.

But his return, though celebrated by some...hasn’t been so for many. The very day he arrived - and it’s going on four months now - he heard the whispers. Seen the sidelong glances, the scowls, the glares.

As expected.

In all honesty, he hasn’t been paying them much mind. He’s one of the two strongest shinobi in their world. He’s hardly scared of some wary civilians or petty chūnin. The only people who could really give him any trouble wouldn’t dare.

...but that doesn’t mean they aren’t among the masses.

Upon returning, Sasuke didn’t waste any time making his sentiments known. He still held resentment for his team’s treatment of him. Of Sakura’s shallow obsession, or Naruto’s so-called friendship. He’d confronted them before leaving: asking them how they could, in good conscience - after learning all he had learned about the Uchiha, and the council’s decision to eliminate them - still think the best course of action was to drag him back, unwillingly, to his family’s slaughtering grounds. Better yet, when asked what plans they’d had to address such injustice?

Nothing. Not a word. Not a single hint or idea of how they’d have helped him seek recompense for all his clan had faced.

“Admit it. All you two cared about was getting the boy you thought I was back,” he’d hissed, holding no bars. “Sakura, you wanted me to come back and fall in love with you. As if I ever could with someone so superficial. Naruto...you’ve always claimed to be my friend. But when have you ever listened to me…? Taken my thoughts, my feelings, into account? Both of you...had imagined yourselves owed my time and attention. Because we were classmates, teammates, friends. But when did either of you ever take the time to acknowledge all I faced…? All I’d gone through? Never. Any time I tried to think for myself - make my own decisions - you forbade me!

“And on what grounds? You had no right to decide my future for me...when you gave no thought to my past. I chose to learn under Orochimaru. Never did I need your permission. Even if I was a missing nin because of it...it wasn’t your place to tell me what I could and couldn’t do in order to achieve my goals...goals no one ever offered me help with. Never did I want your attention, your friendship. All I ever wanted...was to get through my training, and avenge my clan. The rest was fodder. Unnecessary. A distraction. And whenever I prioritized my plans? Whenever I tried to leave behind what I never wanted in the first place? You took it as a personal slight. Tried to control me. I never wanted a team. Friends. No matter what you thought, you weren’t something I ever asked for. So to act like I owed you anything...was a joke.

“And it’ll be a damn long time before either of you learn that lesson...and longer still before you can make up to me all you did to me. The only time I ever confronted either of you was when you stood in my way. Otherwise? I’d never had raised a hand to you. It was you who put yourselves in my path. Impeded my progress. What choice did I have but to fight back? And when I dared stray…? Sakura, you whined and pleaded to Naruto. And Naruto? You insisted on beating me into submission until I bent to your will. Without any consideration for what I wanted, or needed. All that mattered was that you two wanted for me. That’s not friendship. Not even close.”

Needless to say...it left both of them giving him wary looks from then on. And he simply ignored them. He spoke his truth. His feelings on the matter. If they couldn’t see that...well, then he still wouldn’t want them.

Even now, they too look to him as though he’s ready to snap at any moment. As though he’s entirely unstable, devoid of his sanity. Practically everyone outside his family assumes he’s a lit fuse, just waiting for the right moment to go off. As short as his patience may have run at times - as driven as he was, no matter what actions he had to take - he’s not that boy anymore.

But none of them bother to see that.

...none, that is, but one.

Hinata faced her own sets of challenges. Some, oddly enough, ran parallel to Sasuke’s own. Dismissive fathers, hurtful brother figures that showed truer colors, underestimated members of ‘royal’ dōjutsu clans...while Hinata may not have lost her clan, her so similar position in one meant understanding more than most.

Of course, her connections to the twins’ mother helped in that. She was privy to far more far earlier than the rest of them before taking down the council. She, therefor, was able to see Sasuke in a much more comprehensive light.

Never has she looked down on him since his return. Shied from him. Glared at him or whispered. She just...treats him like any other person.

And gods is he thankful for that.

“So...think I’m nuts like everyone else?”

She’d startled, looking to him in shock. “I...w-what?”

His head had tilted to the rest of their group. “...they all seem to think I’m a ticking time bomb. A landmine just waiting to be stepped on. But you don’t walk on eggshells like they seem to. Why?”

Pale eyes blinked, thinking. “...because...I understand what you did. And why. While I can’t imagine having l-lost what you lost...I have to wonder if I would have - could have - done the same in their name. To me...you were v-very brave. Maybe flawed, in some ways...but you still put their justice above all else...even morality. And to learn that such a tragedy was orchestrated…” Her head had shook. “...I admire how you handled it, in the end. It couldn’t have been easy. But...though you made some wrong choices, you seem determined to make the right ones now. You want Konoha to be better. And...it needs to be better.

“So no...I don’t think you’re unstable.” Her head tilted, looking almost through him, or so he thought. “...I think...you’ve changed a lot. And g-grown. You’ve been through so much, Sasuke-kun. To make it out alive was miracle enough. I think...anyone in your shoes would have been just as affected as you were. Just because they didn’t experience what you did - just because they can’t understand - doesn’t m-mean they should treat you lesser. You’re doing your best...and doing better all the time. I hope...someday, the rest of them will see that.”

...would it be any wonder then, that one of the few he left with a clean slate - and who in turn let his be clean when he returned - would be the one he’d lose his heart to?

     I...dunno if I did this QUITE as I wanted, but...as usual, I'm left to do this very late, with limited time, so...I did my best ^^;      The original fic that got me into SasuHina - A Traitor Branded over on FF - explored Sasuke's mental state a LOT. Granted, it was written long before the end of canon, and it varies quite a bit that way. And...there's some things about it, looking back now, that leave a bad taste in my mouth. But I DO still like how in-depth the author got into Sasuke's trauma and mental state.      I wanted to do some of that here, but...just not enough time / energy ^^; Maybe another time. But I AM glad I got to - at least in part - have Sasuke talk about how he saw his team's treatment of him. It's something I could write about for days: how they never actually were his friends, and simply felt entitled to him when he really wanted nothing to do with ANYONE due to his narrow focus and goals. Sakura's shallow feelings are, imo, obvious. And Naruto always just beating Sasuke's butt whenever they disagreed just...reallllly makes me mad. Hence honestly disliking when they're written buddy-buddy...and WAY more so when people ship them. Just...I can't see anything but Naruto's abuse of Sasuke ^^; At least in my interpretation, and everyone's is different~      But WOW I'm rambling - can you tell I'm tired? I should meta another time xD For now, bed. And as always, thanks for reading!

[ashitomarisu]

2022 Anime Watch: Anime-Gataris (Final Thoughts)

What started as just my excuse to watch something that had Anchan in it turned into an unexpected clusterfuck.

(...and yet Kaede Hondo tried to win me over in the first episode).

Let-Let's actually talk about this anime for a while, because I'm still trying to wrap my head on the final two episodes. The comments on Crunchyroll and ANN aren't helping form a conclusion.

Instead, I'm breaking it down myself.

From episode 1-6, the episodes play out like a slice-of-life, sprinkling in some pretty informative references and nods to the animation industry in general. Hell, Erika....

ACTUALLY, LET ME TELL YOU HOW BIG OF A DEAL ERIKA IS TO ME AND HOW MUCH I WANNA THANK THE WRITERS FOR MAKING HER A HUGE FAN OF "NOT FUTARI WA PRECURE". SHAMELESS OTAKU VOICED BY A LITERAL OTAKU FTW.

[Note: This is where you need to keep scrolling if you wish to avoid OP's sudden Anchan appreciation monologue. Otherwise, suffer the many Anchan caps coming your way.]

First off, it makes so much damn sense for Erika, AN OTAKU, to have such a pleasant, dynamic voice coming from Anchan, A LITERAL OTAKU IRL. Every moment involving her was enjoyable and entertaining; while at the same time, I get to see a side of Inami who is having fun with this role.

(and no, the staff did not hold back on Love Live references...)

(In fact, Precure and Love Live, alongside Re:ZERO, were mentioned so many times in the show I started questioning if this was the director's intent).

Other anime titles referenced include the following:

Neon Genesis Evangelion (not surprised)

Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

Kuroko no Basket

Idolm@ster

Dragon Ball Z

Doraemon

Sally the Witch

Konosuba

Shirobako

Toradora

Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya

Paprika

Sakura Wars

Girls Und Panzer

Hamtaro

AND MUCH MORE!!!

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[OP, we need to move on now and get to the clusterfucking].

Right....other than the Comiket ordeal; I mean, about the second half of the series. Episodes 7-8 start the whole "let's make an anime" phase, and I almost wanted to quit halfway when they actually did complete it (sans ending).

...although,

DOES ANYONE SPOT ANCHAN IN THIS PHOTO OR AM I DERANGED?

IS IT RIE OR IS IT ANCHAN??

MY MIND IS DYING

THIS POST IS GETTING TOO LONG

AND I'M LYING HERE WAITING FOR A CONFIRMATION

IS THIS RIE OR IS IT ANCHAN?!

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BEFORE I HAVE ANYMORE TANGENTS, LET'S END THIS POST WITH MY THOUGHTS ON THE FINAL TWO EPISODES, WHICH....

MAYBE THAT WAS TOO MUCH META FOR ONE SHOW TO HANDLE...THAT IT BROKE.

In fact, Episode 11 literally did it for me, from the Osomatsu style, to the text hitting Minoa in the face, to the dreaded 800x600 screen ratio (letterbox effect that was used in SO MANY FANSUBS AND DVD RIPS), and did I forget to mention...

THE RETURN OF THE [REDACTED]?

Episode 12 got even more fucked up...with the climax taking way too many plot twists to the point someone got ki--fourth wall broke the fourth wall broken by another fourth wall and everything collapses.

Even with a solid casting, decent comedy, and bold concept tackling the anime industry and everything that goes on, the final two episodes broke me. It was hilarious at times, but as soon as the main plot twist was revealed, I couldn't handle the pretzel that was forming in front of me.

Overall, I did enjoy it for the most part for being an ambitious project, albeit some of the characters felt a bit flat. YES GO WATCH IT IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN THE CLUSTERFUCK FOR YOURSELF.

For me, I'm giving this 🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊/ 10 CHIKAS IN A BOX OF MIKANS WAITING TO BOO ME FOR NOT RATING THIS SERIES ANY HIGHER.

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That, my folks, concludes this month's anime watch. Next month will be packed with not only more Love Live Superstar, but the only Toei anime I will allow this year after the December 2021 incident. Continuing the Precure tradition as usual, join me next month as I dive into a "tropical" kind of time. Break out the makeup and--WAIT...MAKEUP!?

Until next time, here's...you know what? Have some Soramaru while I go research some meditation techniques.