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nottsfavoritewitch · 2 days ago

Text

The Other Girls (t.n)

Pairing: theo nott x malfoy reader

Warnings: VERY VERY VERY LONG!!!!! 18+, mdni, smut, some fluff, a little angst, draco's little sister, brother's bsf, choking, nipple play, fingering, heavy cursing, drug use (theo smoking), corruption kink, degrading, praising, google-translated italian, porn with plot, obsessive/possessive theo, innocent reader, inexperienced reader x very experienced theo, lowercaps intended.

Summary: you're draco malfoy's younger sister by a year, and you've had a crush on theo all your life. you and theo were close childhood friends, but when he went to hogwarts, he forgot all about you. you joined hogwarts a year later, and unfortunately got sorted into gryffindor. as a result, theo and you only drifted apart further. he was always surrounded by girls. as the years go by, you try to get theo's attention in every way, but he never notices you. as a last resort, you end up taking advice from the girls that theo hangs around, in hopes that maybe... maybe it might finally work...

Author's note: WARNING: VERY VERY LONG! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! (sorry but i tend to get carried away with the details). This is my first time writing smut, or posting it here on tumblr... Please be nice. Also, many many apologies that this is super, super long... Kinda got carried away.. Enjoy :))

THEO always spent Christmas at Malfoy Manor. Ever since his mother's death, and his father always having some sort of 'business trip,' Narcissa suggested that Theo resided with the Malfoys for the whole Christmas break, and some of the summer.

You had always loved him. Since you were three years old, you used to follow him and Draco around, tagging along after both of them, much to your older brother's annoyance.

Even during your Hogwarts years, you always tried to attract his attention, trying to show him you were all grown up, that you were more than Draco's little sister. But he never saw, he never once acknowledged you as anything other than a sisterly figure.

During your fifth year at Hogwarts, you realized that Theo was never going to reciprocate your feelings, so you decided to try and get over him. You weren't allowed boyfriends. Draco always beat up any guy who dared to ask you out, and Theo did the exact same. Any guy who talked to you, or said something about you behind your back, or even looked at you, would end up in the hospital wing. As a result, you had been stood up many times, wondering why your date never showed up, only to realize he had either been beaten up, or scared away by Theo and Draco. That night always ended up with you crying.

You were never allowed to go to parties, or drink either. Draco and Lucius were always very, very protective over you. You were the Malfoy princess, the youngest child, the favorite, the spoiled little girl...

Yet somehow, right before the Christmas break, you gave in to your little rebellious streak and your friend's persuasion to sneak into one of the Slytherin parties.

The moment you got to the party, you were completely shocked. This was nothing like what you had in mind... Your outfit, a pretty, dainty, little white dress with a skater skirt felt far too modest, and the whole room smelt of weed, sweat and alcohol. People were publicly making out, the girls dressed in the skimpiest clothing you ever saw, and at the center of it all, next to Draco and his friends, you saw him.

Your breath hitched. He was sitting on the couch, legs slightly spread, surrounded by girls, one was even on his lap, and he was holding a cigarette. Smoke surrounded him as he blew it out from his mouth, laughing as his hand trailed up and down the girl's thigh.

All at once, you felt jealous. All the feelings for him you had tried so hard to bury came surfacing, and your blood boiled with anger, hurt, betrayal... What did Theo see in those girls that he never saw in you??

You quickly turned around, before Theo, or your brother saw you, and accepting the firewhiskey your friend had gotten for you— even though you'd never drunk before.

One sip became one glass, and before you knew it, you were intoxicated enough to dance to the loud music, and you were soon surrounded by a small group of boys, who simply couldn't believe you, of all people, were actually at the party.

Theo had managed to catch sight of you, and he dragged you out of the Slytherin Common room after beating up all three boys to the ground, jaw ticking and fists clenching with anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled.

Tears pricked your eyes as you stared up at him, but you didn't let them fall. You clenched your jaw, angry at him. He always, always ruined your fun.

"Partying, of course," you replied, a little too sharply for Theo's liking. But then again, you were drunk, after just one glass.

"Does your brother know?" Theo asked, ripping the almost empty glass of firewhiskey from your hand and tossing it aside lazily. "Do you want me to tell him you're here?"

"I don't care," was your reply, you sounded sullen. "You're not my dad, or my brother."

The answer was enough to send Theo into a rage, and he angrily grabbed your wrist with a grip slightly too harsh. "Go," he ordered, his dark blue eyes ablaze. "Go back to your dorm."

That had been the end of it.

Yet somehow, you still couldn't get over the memory of seeing Theo with a girl over his lap, and somehow, you wished that that had been you instead.

After that, you started to slowly eavesdrop on those Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls that usually hung around Theo, and you had managed to learn a few things from them...

One, that Theo loved short skirts, two, that he liked low necklines and tight blouses, and three, that he liked having girls sitting on his lap.

Which is why you were currently wearing the most revealing outfit you'd ever worn in your life, at the moment.

You always gave Theo a present for Christmas, every year, since you were very young, and this year was no different. The only difference was, that instead of leaving it under the tree, you'd be giving it to him in person, this time.

You'd made him some brownies— muggle style. It had been your first time ever baking something, and you were rather nervous of the outcome. Theo loved brownies, since he was young, and for someone who had everything in the world, you felt like something handmade would definitely be seen as more heartfelt.

The little white box of brownies sat on your dresser, wrapped with a pink ribbon— your signature style as you stared into the mirror, scrutinizing your outfit and applying all the finishing touches.

If your parents, or your brother ever saw her in this outfit, she knew she would forever be banned from doing your own shopping.

A baby pink, short, pleated mini skirt rested around your hips, just covering your ass. If you bent over, your ass would most certainly be on full display. You paired it with a lace, white, bralette top, with a deep, plunging V-neckline. It exposed your entire midriff, ending just short of your ribs, the lace transparent enough to see the milky skin underneath.

Your blonde hair was tied into a high ponytail, a few tendrils framed your face. You applied your waterproof mascara and a final layer of lip gloss.

You had never felt so bare. And yet, you felt so confident that you looked pretty.

Grabbing the box of brownies, you glanced at the clock. Ten past midnight. It was officially Christmas. Everyone was in their own rooms, and Theo's was conveniently just down the corridor from yours.

You were completely silent as you left your room, closing the door behind you, and headed to Theo's.

You gently knocked on the door, softly enough for anyone else not to hear.

"Come in," came Theo's lazy drawl.

Cautiously, slowly, nervously, you stepped in, closing the door behind you, the box of brownies held behind your back.

"Hi Theo," you whispered shyly, balancing on your heels.

He hadn't been expecting you. He had probably thought you were Draco.

But God— did his eyes rake your figure when he saw you wearing that tiny fucking skirt. The sight of you standing there, looking so goddamn shy and innocent was refreshing, to say the least.

He was seated on the couch, legs spread slightly, smoking a cigarette. Just like how he had been sitting at the Slytherin party—an empty bottle of whiskey rested on the side-table. The only difference? This time, his shirt was fully unbuttoned, tie draped around his shoulders.

You couldn't help but let your eyes wander down his chiseled abs, his bare muscular chest, and your fingers had the sudden urge to travel down his bare skin.

His hair was tousled, as if he had been running his hands through it... It looked so soft, you wanted to touch it. His dark blue eyes bored into yours with a hint of wickedness. God— he was so attractive.

"Baby Malfoy. I didn't expect to see you," he purred, lips curling into a smirk. "What brings you here at this time of the night?"

Oh, he knew of your feelings for him, he wasn't that oblivious. He knew exactly why you were here.

"I..." He always made you nervous. You couldn't help but stutter. "I came to give you your Christmas present..." you said softly.

"At this time?" he drawled, motioning for you to come closer with two fingers.

His hands.

His fucking hands.

They always drove you insane... Perfectly manicured, long fingers, veiny, defined, smooth... On numerous occasion, you had imagined him holding you with those hands, touching you...

But those were all fantasies.

Slowly, you moved closer, hesitantly, tentatively, cautiously... You didn't answer his question, you merely set the box in his lap and waited for him to open it.

He was quite surprised to see the brownies, to say the least. He had been expecting something else, something... bought.

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you carefully. "You made these?"

You nodded.

"By yourself? The muggle way? For me?"

You nodded again.

Once again, he smirked, and he grabbed a piece, gently biting into it, maintaining eye-contact with you the whole time.

Your heart was beating madly. Your stomach was full of fluttering butterflies, and goosebumps erupted all over your skin, making you feel cold.

Of course, it was winter, and you were dressed in practically nothing.

He chewed it, slowly, still holding your gaze. "It's good," he finally said, licking his lips and placing the box full of the rest of the brownies on the side table. "Good job, Baby Malfoy..."

He spared you no second glance as he went back to reading his book, and once again, you felt a sinking sensation fill you, and disappointment in your heart.

Obviously, he had expected you to leave. But when he still saw you standing there, he raised a brow. "Is something the matter?"

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away. You shook your head.

He went back to reading.

Until you could stand it no more. He hadn't mentioned one, single thing, one single comment about your outfit. You felt hurt. Hurt that you had put in so much effort, taken so much time to get ready for him, and he hadn't even smiled.

The words slipped out before you could control them.

"Do you like my outfit?" you blurt, sounding a little bit offended. "Don't I look pretty?" you continued, shyly biting your lip.

"You look like a whore," Theo replied coldly, without even looking up from his text.

This time, you couldn't help welling up at his harsh, hurtful words. He never said anything to those other girls when they dressed up like this for him.

"Th-there's no need to be mean," you whimpered, evident hurt in your beautiful silvery gray eyes. You were on the verge of tears. "I.. I spent hours dressing up just for you... and... and then you say—" You broke off, unable to finish your sentence.

That was enough to snatch Theo's attention. His eyes snapped back up to meet yours.

"You dressed up for me?" he echoed, his tone commanding, yet smooth, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

The way you blinked and looked away was enough to tell Theo your answer.

"What gave you the idea I'd like your outfit?" he asked, setting his book aside and putting out his cigarette, leaving the end in the ashtray.

Your cheeks turned red, and you averted your gaze back to the floor. "D-Daphne Greengrass and the other girls," you whispered shyly, very, very softly.

"Is that so?" Theo mused, taking in your every expression.

Slowly, you nodded.

"What else did you hear Daphne Greengrass and the other girls say?" he mocked.

You couldn't catch the irony in his tone until it was too late. Somehow, the answer slipped out before you could catch it. "Th-that you like it when girls sit in your lap," you mumbled, your voice sounding troubled, still very hurt by his words.

He really was mean.

You wanted to go back to your room and never see him again.

"Hm," said Theo thoughtfully, before he slid his tie off his shoulders, crumpled it into a tiny ball and flung it across the room, where it landed directly onto his bed.

"And? Aren't you going to follow their advice?" he asked, inching his legs slightly further apart.

Your eyes slowly slid up to meet his, utterly shocked he would even suggest it when he didn't like you that way.

Tears clung to your eyelashes, and you stood frozen, right there, unable to move.

A dry chuckle rumbled through him, and you hated the way it sent shivers down your spine. "Aren't you? Go on, I'm waiting..."

You blinked, a small whimper leaving you as you took a small step back, ready to go back to your room, but when he patted his lap, as his eyes bored into yours, challenging you, you realized he was being serious about this.

You wanted to leave, but part of you wanted to stay. Your eyes fell down to look at his lap.

This might be your first and last chance to sit on his lap, and before you knew it, you gently perched your bottom on his knee, avoiding his gaze, hands in your lap.

The moment you made contact with him, you felt his breath hitch the slightest bit, but otherwise, he remained composed.

"Like this," he ordered, both hands grabbing your waist and pulling you harshly towards himself, until both your legs were on either side of him and you were straddling his lap.

Fire danced on your skin, especially with the frigid metal rings he wore burning into your skin.

You let out a soft, yet audible gasp and your breath hitched.

Having no clue what to do, or what to say, you shied away from meeting his gaze, nervously chewing on your lower lip, unaware that Theo's eyes were burning into you.

"Good girl..." his praise rumbled in his throat, and once again, those butterflies returned in your abdomen.

His praise sent shivers down your spine, and slowly, tentatively, your eyes slid upwards to catch his gaze.

"Such an obedient whore," he murmured in a low tone, and once again, tears began pricking your eyes. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one ever dared to.

"I'm... I'm not a whore," you whimpered, your teeth sinking harder into your lower lip.

"Well, you're dressed like a whore," Theo replied, faux pity lacing his tone. "Aren't you?"

You blinked, trying not to cry, but the tears only clung to your lashes and threatened to trail down your cheeks any moment.

"Answer me," he demanded, hands pressing your waist harder, cold rings searing your skin.

"Y-yes," you whispered, your teeth attacking your lower lip once more.

"So since you're dressed like a fucking whore, I'm gonna treat you like it... la mia puttana," he purred, lightly swatting your thigh.

That was all it took for you to break.

"Y-you're being mean," you whimpered, a single tear sliding down your cheek, tears swimming in your pretty gray eyes.

"Aww, poor baby," Theo scoffed. "Never had anyone talk to you like this? Never been treated like a whore before?"

He was breaking you, and he was succeeding. You had always gotten what you wanted, since birth. All you had to do was smile and flutter your eyelashes, maybe pout and fake a few tears...

Theo treated you differently. He didn't treat you like royalty, like you were used to... He treated you like... like a whore, and he seemed totally unaffected by your tears, which were real.

"I.. hate you," you cried, your voice breaking. "I.. I put in all this effort, trying to get you to notice me, and you..."

You broke off, choking a sob, pushing his chest in an attempt to get off his lap, but he only gripped your waist harder, setting you down on his lap and preventing you from moving.

"Sit fucking down," he growled, and you couldn't help but obey. "You're not leaving until I say you are, are we clear, amore?"

You nodded, another small sob leaving you as you gulped.

"I need words," Theo demanded.

"Yes," you whispered, sniffling, refusing to look at him, stubbornly glaring at your lap with your lip stuck between your teeth.

"Good girl," he praised, before his gaze softened slightly, realizing that you had probably learned your lesson. His demeanor shifted, becoming less harsh as he gently lifted his hand to your face, gently caressing your jaw.

Surprised as you were by his tender touch, you still refused to look at him. His thumb gently brushed your tears away, from both eyes.

"Look at me," he requested softly, tone low and very, very gentle.

You slowly lifted your gaze up, as if you expected him his sudden gentleness to be a trick your mind was playing on you. Your eyesight was slightly blurred by the tears you had shed, but as you looked at his face, you could see the softened look in his eyes.

"Shh, don't cry now, Principessa," he murmured softly, thumb gently caressing your cheek bone as he looked into your big, vulnerable gray eyes, full of innocence.

"Pretty girl," he murmured, thumb tracing soothing patters on your cheek.

Your stomach flipped at the praise. You couldn't believe your ears— Did he just call you pretty after calling you a whore??

"You're such a pretty girl, so fucking gorgeous," he continued. "You don't need to wear such revealing clothes, show off your body to look pretty..."

You were silent, yet your sniffles subsided. You were now staring at Theo with rapt attention, his praises slowly bringing back your confidence.

"Those other girls..." he murmured softly. "They're not as beautiful as you, that's why they need to show off their bodies... That's why they dress like whores..."

His voice was soft, delicate around you. "But you..." He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You're not a whore, you're a fucking princess..."

One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other at his side, on the seat of the couch, next to his pocket. "Why would you listen to the other girls, hm? Why would you want to be like the other girls?"

"I..." you began, finding your voice. "B-because you like them," you whispered. "You notice them.. I thought.. I thought maybe if I become like them, you'd like me too.. You'd notice me too..."

You couldn't hide the pain in your voice, the longing in your tone. And somehow, as the words slipped out, you realized you had practically confessed your obvious feelings for Theo, the feelings you tried so hard to hide.

Once again, you bit your lip, an irksome habit that you'd had since you were young.

Slowly, Theo's thumb gently trailed down your cheek and landed on your lower lip, and he softly tugged it free, away from the grasp of your teeth. His touch was cold against the warmth of your lip, and his thumb lingered there for a while, as if he did not want to pull it away. "I've always noticed you," he confessed, his voice a low mutter.

Your breath hitched, and he chuckled slightly, gently running his thumb across your lower lip.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and your cheeks turned slightly pink at how good Theo's touch felt, even though it was just a little bit.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured softly, and you nodded singly, just once.

"Use your words, Baby," Theo cooed.

"Theo," you whispered, accidentally blurting out his name.

Once again, he slowly moved his hand back to your bare waist, rings pressed into your skin, and his thumb resting just at the hem of your bralette top, underneath your ribs.

His other hand remained on your cheek as his thumb continued caressing your lower lip, coaxing your mouth to open slightly, before he slipped his thumb through your parted lips.

A small whimper left your lips, and you opened your eyes, your gaze locked on his.

Slowly, without even realizing it, your tongue accidentally brushed against the pad of his thumb, and Theo bit back a low groan as he pushed the entirety of his thumb into your mouth.

Your heart was beating thunderously in your chest, and you had no idea what Theo was doing, but whatever it was, you liked it. You didn't want it to stop... You had his attention, and you wanted it on you forever.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you enjoyed the way his thumb fit perfectly in your mouth, until you got carried away, tongue tracing the length of his digit.

Theo suddenly lost it. All his control snapped as a growl escaped him. "Does my dumb little whore want her mouth filled?" he drawled, pulling his thumb away.

Hot. You felt hot with the way he spoke, with the way his words drove you insane. Even though he called you a whore, this time, you liked it. Because he called you his pretty little whore.

A whimper left you when he pulled his thumb away, disappointed at the lack of contact.

A smirk curled across his lips and he let out a small chuckle. "Mm, that's what I thought," he whispered, more to himself than to you.

Before you knew it, he had pushed the tips of two of his fingers into your mouth; his index and middle, fingertips pressing down on the pad of your tongue.

"Let's see how long you can suck on my fingers without gagging, shall we?" he cooed, pushing the rest of his fingers deeper into your mouth, until they were all the way in.

A small groan left you, but it was muffled by his fingers, and slowly, you started sucking on his long digits, your eyes fluttering shut as you lost yourself in a rhythm.

Theo pressed harder on your tongue, activating your gag reflex, and he only chuckled when you gagged.

"Just my fingers, I know you can handle it— such a good girl..." he praised, his other hand tightening around your throat, blocking your airway.

You choked, a huge wad of saliva dribbling down your chin, tears filling your eyes because you couldn't breathe.

The thought of his very large, veiny hands manhandling you like this only turned you on, and he had barely even touched you. You could feel yourself grow wetter between your thighs, and the fact that you were on his lap, barely clothed, only caused your heartbeat to quicken.

He only pulled out his fingers when they were covered in your saliva that dribbled down your chin, and gently wiped them on his lap.

Once again, you were disappointed. It was like he was playing with you. One moment he was all over you, the next... he was gone.

"Theo, please," you whispered, your voice hoarse from being choked.

"What?" he asked, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. He had expressed it very clearly that he wanted you to use your words, and that was only when he would give in to your desires.

"Please kiss me," you breathed shyly.

He did not hesitate. Both hands gripped your face gently as he kissed you.

He started off gentle, his lips gently brushed against yours, just barely. Then, when he felt your hands gently rest against his bare chest, he dove right into your mouth.

His lips collided with yours, his mouth devouring yours like a man starved.

You moaned softly, whispering his name, and that was all it took for Theo's other hand to roughly grasp your waist and slide you forward, pulling you closer, until your hips were flush with his. "Fuck," he gasped. "Such a pretty little moan—"

His teeth harshly grazed your lower lip, and he took advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue into your mouth, engaging with yours in a fierce tango.

Once again, you felt needier and needier between your thighs, and you were filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation of Theo finding out exactly what effect he had on you.

He pulled away, and your mouth opened to protest, but the sound was drowned out when he attached his lips to your neck. He took a little bit of skin between his teeth, biting your flesh and eliciting a gasp from your lips as he sucked a mark there, his tongue running soothingly over the spot.

When he pulled away, a red spot had already began to bloom against your skin.

He didn't stop there.

His lips began trailing lower and lower as he left hickeys everywhere. Every sensual caress of his lips, every nibble of his teeth sent you into overdrive. His spicy, citrusy cologne kidnapped your senses, only heightening your pleasure.

His lips traveled all over your neck, all over your collarbones, trailing down to your chest. He was leaving hickeys all over the exposed swells of your breasts, your nipples hardening underneath the thin fabric to the point where they were reduced to aching pebbles.

"Wanna feel these perfect tits in my mouth," he murmured, his hands on both your boobs as he squeezed the soft flesh— they were the perfect size to fit into his palm.

You couldn't control your hands as they harshly gripped his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. Involuntarily, your hand dragged his head down, until his lips came into contact with your clothed nipple.

"So fucking perfect..."

His hot mouth closed over the little nub, saliva dampening the white, lacy fabric. His other hand slowly caressed your other breast, squeezing the soft mound, thumb tracing gentle circles around your nipple through the thin cloth.

He sucked on your tit, before he grabbed the clothed nipple between his teeth and tugged, causing you to yelp.

At last, you could hold back no more.

A loud moan escaped your lips, and you cried out sharply, begging for him. "Theo, please," you whined, begging him to touch you where you needed it most. "I need you— please..."

That was all that was needed for him to unlatch his mouth from your clothed nipple with ragged breathing as he brought his hands to your back and shifted your position.

Now, you were lying down on the couch, and he hovered above you, leaning down to gently kiss you again.

"Tell me what you want, amore," he murmured, lips brushing against yours. He wouldn't push you, he wouldn't do anything you weren't ready for.

Your chest heaved, and you looked up at him pleadingly, your nipples aching underneath the damp fabric of your bralette top and your panties soaked.

"I... I want.. I want.." words failed you, so instead, you took a deep breath and swallowed thickly, gently grasping one of his larger hands in yours, and sliding it from your waist, to your thigh, above your skirt. "Anything," you whispered. "Please, please... touch me..."

Slowly, not wanting to rush you, Theo allowed his hands to gently travel down your bare midriff and your thighs, smoothing down the material of your tiny skirt, the hem barely reaching your mid thigh.

"Gods— so fucking sexy..." he murmured, allowing his hand to slowly slip underneath your skirt and caress your upper thigh, his thumb inching closer and closer to your heat, settling in the split between your thighs, right where you needed him most, resting above your clothed cunt.

"Is this okay?" he whispered softly, thumb gently tracing soft circles over your clit, through the thin, lacy fabric. He did not look underneath your skirt— he kept his eyes trailed on your face, on your flushed cheeks and your pretty eyelashes that kissed the chub of your cheeks every time you blinked.

"Yes," you breathed, nodding softly.

On feeling how soaked your panties were, a hitch blistered in his throat. "Poor baby," he cooed. "You must be so needy..."

You whimpered at the sensation his words sent through you, and you found yourself nodding.

"Let me help, yeah?" Theo murmured, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your panties, hand somewhere underneath your skirt.

He groaned loudly the moment his fingers came into contact with your wetness, and he couldn't help the curses that tumbled past his lips.

His index finger ran up and down your leaking slit, accompanied by his middle finger, whilst his thumb continued rubbing your clit in circles.

He balanced on his knees as he looked into your eyes, his other hand gently sliding the straps of your bralette down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and to his gaze.

He was hard. So fucking hard.

No one had ever gotten him this hard before, and the sight of you, spread on the couch underneath him, so willingly almost caused him to cum in his pants.

So many times he had envisioned you like this, unbeknownst to you... So many times he had jerked off in the bathroom, imagining what you looked like underneath your clothes.

But he had to hide his desire for you, his obvious need— he couldn't face the wrath of Draco, let alone Lucius.

You were the best Christmas present. The best sight he had ever seen.

"Shit, shit shit—," he rasped, completely speechless, his fingers still playing with your folds underneath your skirt. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he praised, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples as his fingers teased your hole.

You were a whining, moaning, leaking mess for him. You were so wet, you felt like you would explode any moment, yet you needed him— more, more, more.

He seemed to understand, because the moment he licked a long stripe over your nipple, he gently eased the tip of his middle finger into your hole.

"So tight— so perfect," Theo groaned, as your virgin walls fluttered at the invasion, clamping tightly around his finger. He slowly eased it all in, gently pumping it in and out, his eyes watching your reaction for the first time.

Your chest heaved, and your moans grew more frequent at the blissful sensation of having something fill you.

You were content, until Theo eased another finger inside you, pumping both fingers faster into your hole, stretching it. Your eyes widened, and you gripped his hair, tugging on his roots harshly, eliciting a string of muttered curse-words.

"Fuck, fuck— Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo—"

You never realized you could feel this good, and Theo only heightened your pleasure when his two, long fingers curled up inside you, pressing against that fleshy spot.

"Such a tight little cunt," he grunted, words slightly muffled as his teeth attacked your nipple, with roughness that bordered on assault.

You could feel the knot form in your lower abdomen. You spread your legs slightly more as your climax approached, and you made it awfully clear that you were close as your moans grew louder.

"Oh my God—" you gasped. "Theo— ah— please, more... I'm... I feel.."

Theo quickened his pace, his fingers pounding into you as he watched your eyes roll back, your chest heave, your boobs bounce slightly with the way you moved your hips to seek more friction to get you to your climax.

The sound of him sliding his ringed fingers in and out of you was drowned out by your ecstatic moans, as Theo pumped his fingers faster and faster, thumb pressing against your clit. His biceps flexed, the veins popping out as he fingered you, curling and scissoring his fingers to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

His rings were cold against your heat, serving to bring you to your climax faster as they added friction when his fingers pistoned in and out of you.

"You're gonna cum for me—" he promised, hand pinching your nipple harshly, whilst he tugged the other one between his lips, your hips bucking into his fingers.

Her hands were clenched, fingernails digging into her palms as you cried out his name like a prayer. "Theo— ah— fuck... I'm so close... argh—"

That's it, cum for me, lia mia piccola puttana... Cum all over my fingers like a good little slut," he muttered. "Make a mess on my hand..."

With a deliberate force of his hand, he drove his fingers upwards one more time, thumb pressing roughly on your clit to draw out your climax.

With a shudder, and an arch of your back, your walls clenched around his fingers, you finally orgasmed, your body spasming and contorting in pleasure, and there was nothing else on your mind but him.

"That's it, my pretty girl, moan for me," he praised. "You sound so fucking pretty when you moan for me like that..."

Your juices soaked his hand, trailing down his fingers and curling around his wrist, and it was only when your orgasm ended that he stopped thrusting his fingers.

He slowly eased them out of you, blindly sliding your panties back into place with his other hand under your skirt, bringing his long fingers up to his mouth to taste your essence, groaning at how fucking delicious you tasted.

"So fucking sweet," he murmured, licking his fingers completely clean. His dick was hard under his pants, straining against his zipper, but he did not let the attention waver off you.

You watched him, eyes transfixed on his as he slowly slid your bralette back into place, covering your boobs.

"Merry Christmas, Principessa," he whispered softly, gently kissing you.

A smile formed on your lips as you stared up at him, still so shy as you thought about what you had just done. "Merry Christmas, Theo," you whispered back, unable to hide your joy.

You returned to your room a few hours before dawn, before anyone else could catch you. Changing into your pajamas, a constant grin was plastered on your face as you drifted off to sleep.

It lasted for the rest of the Christmas holidays too.

Author's note: there, my first time publishing and writing smut. i hope you guys liked it... please, please reblog/repost (i have no idea how to use tumblr) and let me know if you'd like me to write a part two of this fic.

i know it's super long, but aside from that, i hope it was okay? please let me know your thoughts, comment pleasseeee.

also i take requests, so feel free to send them it!

love, jas.

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midnight-mourning · 2 days ago

Text

Love Bites

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 8💘💘

Okay okay okay, back on track now, please enjoy this little diaster i made based on @divinit3a's yeti boys, it was, quite fun >:3c

Prompt: umm letseee... valentines...Typically the Sun is not Out.... (for... Reasons... ahah.) but----loves to hunt, and hunt for the thrill/sport/game of it. And loves to eat & eat & would love a properly cooked meal. preference to high protein meals, very rich, very tasty, salty & fatty. so Im sure if u wanted to tackle him, in particular, could have fun with that..... (Slaps a giant fish on the table. Token of affection. Totally Wont Eat You ) The Moon.......... is a lot quieter and subdued, but actually a far better caretaker. takes care of hurt animals; would probably take care of a hurt human, too. mmm hot cocoa. much pickier eater, he doesnt like much, and he doesnt like to eat meat.... I think overall, a 'meal together' would be the best valentines fhgjsdfghjsdf WITH THESE FREAKS IN PARTICULAR...

Word Count: 2907

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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The hall is quiet as you step out from your room. You strain to listen for any sign of life, nothing. Must be out. Good. That gives you more time.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the shadowed hallway, not nearly as bright as your windowed room. Though, you weren't opposed to keeping the lights off. It saved energy for one—which meant warm floor beneath your feet as you pad through the facility—and two, it kept the not as friendly yeti from making an appearance. Which, yourself and Moon were both in agreement about at least.

When you'd first gotten here, so many months ago now, your first encounter with the yeti, robot, thing—you still haven't quite figured that one out—was less than, pleasant. Though, that may very well have been due to the state he first saw you in. Which was bloodied, bruised, and vulnerable. And as Moon would later explain it to you, that had triggered something in counterpart. Something more instinct than logical.

Luckily for you, a ragged chase into a darkened cavern had saved you from suffering any further injury, or worse.

Instead, you got Moon, and he was thankfully much calmer than the other bot. He also wasn't trying to kill you, so you took what you could get. He patched you up, gave you a place to stay, a nice warm bed out of the cold, and plenty of things to do while you recovered.

When you'd first ventured out into the snow, having heard the rumors of the 'ice devil' you'd be facing, this hadn't been what you'd expected.

Delivish upon first glance, sure. Those tusks didn't help anything, that's for certain. Not to mention Sun as a whole, the manic energy he radiated, the wild look in his eyes, the raw strength as he'd pinned you down to "Try a bite"—

But still, with Moon at the very least, the rumors didn't match up.

He was quiet, even a bit stern in certain cases, but polite. He took his directives very seriously, but beyond that, he held a compassion you wouldn't ever have expected of a machine. Though, maybe it was because he was a bit more than that, they both were.

Regardless, you owed him for not abandoning you out there in the frozen tundra to die. Much less putting in the effort he had to care for you.

As you traverse the hall now, there's only the slightest pain still left in your ankle as you shuffle. You'd left the crutches behind today, as you had been the past several mornings, despite the lunar-themed yeti's insistence for otherwise.

That was another thing, the care. For a so-called devil, he had the attitude of a saint. Or well, you didn't know any saints, so a good friend then. A very good friend, at that.

You found yourself in long conversations that would last hours, either listening to that quiet tone regale you with stories of all his travels, or sharing some of your own experiences prior to meeting them. You enjoyed the walks you'd take together through the caverns, or going with him out into the arctic—on the rare trips he would allow you with your injury—to scout for poachers and the likes.

And those rare moments you could get him to laugh at one of your jokes, it lit something inside you that you couldn't describe. Something that albeit would be a bit more frightening than it already was if not for your situation.

You think the combination of getting your foot caught in a bear trap, freed and then chased by a rabid yeti-bot, and then saved by the other side of that same yeti-bot, allowed you some freedom when it came to your feelings.

But that wasn't the point to what you were doing. Rather, you wanted to show your appreciation for Moon, not your feelings. Nevermind the fact that today did just so happen to be Valentine's, having found out by checking the date on your half-dead phone.

Besides, You didn't even know if it was even possible for him to return such affections. Truthfully, you preferred not knowing if it meant you could keep this peace you've had for so long now. You were almost afraid for when you fully healed.

Afraid that the moment you could leave, you'd be kicked out, back into the cold to survive to find your own way back to society. That the past few months were nothing but a ruse, set up by Moon and in fact once you were at a good range, your back turned and unaware, Sun would bear down on you and—

You shake your head, no. Despite your initial encounter, Sun had been fine. He wasn't allowed out much, so you didn't speak much, though you also think he would prefer not to. It didn't necessarily have to do with you in particular, you don't think.

Whereas Moon was more oriented to stay on task, Sun had his own personal drive to fulfill. You'd yet to figure out exactly what that was yet, however. Besides the desire to hunt and kill just for the thrill of it. Whatever it was, with your injury, you simply didn't fit into it. You had no use—for now—so he left you to your own devices.

For now.

You flip on the light to the kitchen area as you enter, dimmed lighting now illuminating the space.

You'd been surprised to find there was indeed working cooking equipment in the research station. Not originally all in the same space, but with a bit of help, you'd dragged everything functional into one space.

When it came to ingredients, you didn't have much to work with besides what either yeti brought to you. There was some very old canned food you'd found, and several containers of unopened spices, but beyond that it was slim pickings. The crate of hot coco you'd found had been a godsend. Considering the situation though, you weren't going to complain.

The idea of making a meal had come from the simple fact of the matter that beyond hunting and protecting, Moon nor Sun did much else. So, providing nourishment would have to be your way to pay back their hospitality. Or at least, Moon's hospitality. If Sun enjoyed something you made, you'd consider that in and of itself a victory.

So, you set to work immediately. Opening the fridge, you pulled out one of the the few items in there, a massive bluefin tuna, which took up the majority of the space. You struggle to take it out, much less carry it with wobbling limbs over to the island. When you put it on the counter, you almost swear you hear it creak under the weight.

You step back and let out a breath, admiring the giant fish for a moment. While the two really only ate for fuel—a fish like this would just simply be devoured as is from what you'd seen—you knew they could taste, and that when presented with chances to try something that was flavored in some regard, they did seem to enjoy it. Especially Sun, having taken one bite of your beef jerky and snatching the rest away for himself when you'd not been paying attention.

Though you only had the one fish and just a few other ingredients to work with, you had several ideas in mind for how to properly utilize it. Taking the large butcher knife, you cleaned, gutted, and scaled it, and divided it up into proper pieces.

The loin you'd make steaks out of, pan searing and basting in fats, utilizing the bit of pepper and spices you had available. You set aside three to cook and stored the rest in the freezer.

The back you would smoke, creating some jerky from the pieces there. Thankfully, Moon kept firewood around in case the power failed entirely, and you doubted he would notice a few pieces going missing. You'd utilized one of the broken freezers for your smokehouse.

The belly would be raw, sliced thin and served with a bit of the salty roe that you'd discovered inside the fish initially.

As for the remaining bits of the fish, you'd stew the bones for a broth and fry the collar and cheeks as one final touch to finish off the meal.

It was a lot, all things considered, and for them it may very well be next to nothing in comparison to their appetites, especially Sun's. But, that wasn't going to deter you from trying your best to make something from your heart. So, you got to work.

You had no idea when Moon would return, so you tried your best to work both quickly and effectively. Thankfully, since several items were basic prep, they took very little time to come together. You enjoyed it, the process overall. After all the time being spent on you, being able to give back felt gratifying in its own way, exciting even. Again, ignoring your own feelings about the yeti.

At some point, you even find a small radio, the batteries still good to your delight. Despite your location, you can just barely catch a signal as sappy love songs play from some far away station. You hum and dance and sing to the music as you cook, the time passing by like nothing to you in your focused state. You even are able to make yourself some hot coco, sipping on it throughout the cooking process.

You're so focused, even, that you don't notice the towering presence hovering around the other side of the counter until you turn directly to face it. You were just setting down the last bit of the meal, ready to sit and wait for Moon's return, so color you shocked when you find yourself face to chest with Sun instead.

His head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, expression unreadable as he examines you with that calculated stare.

"You've been busy." He states.

You come out of your daze, shaking your head. "I-yeah. I have."

"Tore up the meat. A pity. I was going to enjoy that." He picks at one of his claws, you see a hint of red stained there before he glances back up to you, grin wide. "Though, it's not nearly as good as when it's fresh, anyhow."

You both know that fresh isn't quite what he's implying.

You swallow, while you'd been expecting Moon—and would have preferred him, especially in this case—this was technically a gift for the day-themed yeti too.

Deciding you weren't going to let your lingering fear overtake you, you straighten up, and steady your voice. "This is all for you, actually. And Moon, of course. I, wanted to extend my thanks for, allowing me to stay these past few months." This again was technically all for Moon, but you couldn't exactly say that with Sun standing right in front of you.

"I—Me?" He questions, eyes widening and grin falling.

You nod. "Yeah, I um, figured that something made with a bit more care might be something you guys liked. I noticed you never really get the chance to... add more flavor to things, and you seemed to like my snacks in the past so, i just—" You stop when you find that he's eye to eye with you now, baring down on you with a serious expression you weren't anticipating.

"You made us, me, a meal?" The way the words are half-snarled mere inches from your face makes you flinch.

"Y-yes?"

Sun stares at you for a bit longer, and if you weren't so alarmed you'd move away. But you don't.

After a few moments more, he huffs, then starts to chuckle, standing straight again. "Aren't you just so interesting, Little Star?"

You feel confusion knit your brows only for them to shoot up in shock as Sun's hand suddenly grasps your chin, leaning in again.

His other hand snatches one of the pieces of raw fish from the table, eating it in one bite. "Such an offering from you is, surprising but, despite your, obvious misconceptions about our relationship, I suppose I can consider it." He tilts your head this was and that. "You're not the worst option I've ever been presented with."

"I, huh?"

He let's you go again, grabbing one of the steaks with his bare hands. His teeth tear through it like it's nothing. You can only watch as you try to understand what he's saying, not entirely comprehending it.

When he's finished, he wipes his mouth, snickering to himself. "I certainly can't wait to see what he thinks of your proposition. I'm sure it will be entertaining to say the least."

Before you can respond, he walks over to the light switch, dimming the lights as low as possible, thus allowing for Moon to take his place.

As the switch occurs, Sun makes one final remark, and it all finally clicks to you. "Something you should keep in mind though if I do accept, Sunshine, is that I don't share."

With that, you're left with an embarrassing realization, and Moon.

You can't make eye contact with him, instead turning around and starting to busy yourself with cleaning up to distract from the burning feeling spread across your cheeks.

You can't believe you didn't put together that something like this would mean something like that to them. But it's not like you would have known either! How were you supposed to understand the cultural differences between humans and yeti-robots that lived in abandoned research centers? This feels like something that was on them and not you to be honest.

Your half-delusioned reasonings do nothing to stop the racing in your heart as you clean, and you just hope to finish up quickly, grab a snack for yourself, and get out of there to keep yourself from any further embarrassment.

"It's very good, Starlight."

You pause for a moment, then hum. "Y-yeah?"

"Yes. The amount of flavor you've packed into each dish is... incredible." Moon says, sounding genuinely a bit in awe.

It only worsens your state, mumbling back a quiet response. "I'm, I'm glad you like it."

Quiet between the two of you. The radio still plays softly throughout the space, only disrupted by the sound of clinking as you clean things up, or Moon's utensils scraping against each other.

"So what Sun said—" "You should eat too—"

You both stop, and looking back to him, you laugh softly.

You nod. "You first."

"Join me." He pats a seat next to him. "It's only fair after the effort you've put in."

"Oh! Okay."

You try not to make a fool of yourself as you make your way over and sit down. You can only protest as Moon piles you a plate full of food, depositing it in front of you once he's finished.

He hands you a fork, chuckling at the scowl on your features. "You need your energy too, if you want to stand any chance at getting better."

"You're not wrong." You sigh, taking a bite of the smoked fish. As you'd hoped, it's delicious, and you appreciate your own efforts to make such good food in that moment.

"So,"—Moon reaches for a bit of the fried collar—"You were saying?"

You almost choke on the bite you just swallowed. You regain your composure to answer. "I, um, Sun mentioned, that um, something like this was very, very, important to you guys in a specific way. Which, honestly I didn't know and I'm so sorry if I've offended you I just wanted to do something nice—"

You're interrupted by a kiss pressed to your forehead.

"I would say offended is nowhere close to the feelings you've elicited. Honestly." The night-themed yeti states, amusement between the words. "Rather, I find myself rather interested in your proposal, intentional or not."

Your eyes widen ever further. "Pr-proposal?"

"If I'm misreading, then I am sorry, Star. But I—"

"No!" You shake your head, trying again. "No, you're not um, misreading. But again this wasn't my intent at all. I'm definitely all for it. I mean, to a point you know, sorry this isn't something I ever expected to happen but I really do like you, a lot and—"

Instead of a kiss, a piece of tuna is pressed into your mouth, and with how good it is you can't say for sure that you'd prefer the kiss or not. As you chew, a slight scowl on your features, Moon laughs. It makes your heart flutter for a moment.

"I really like you too. I wasn't sure that you'd feel the same, so I didn't act on those feelings. But, since you've shown that you clearly feel something,"—He snickers as you shoot him another glare—"For me, I'm more than happy to make it clear to you now."

"Gee, thanks."

Another kiss is pressed to your hair, arm wrapping around you and you welcome it, snuggling into the warm fur next to you. You grab a piece of tuna, munching on it to hide your fluster in that moment.

"And since he's already said it, I will too." Moon's voice is right next to your ear in that moment, low but lethal.

"I don't share either."

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Thank you for the request @divinit3a!! I had lots and lots of fun with the yetis and i can't wait to see what else you do with them yourself, i may perhaps do a bit more when I find the time hehehehe

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #x reader #dca fic #mm dca valentine's #gahhh i loved writing for the yetis oughhh #feral dca my beloved #i rotated them around in my head a lot before after and during writing for them #hsakflksajf #so much fun with these two truly

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 day ago

Text

Every Light

Summary: The reader is driving along a long stretch of highway when a mysterious stranger on a motorcycle shows up and decides to have some fun with her...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: This fic takes place post 15x20 (with some canon fixes adjustments). Also, we all know (including Jensen) Every Light is 100% Dean coded, right?

____________

Your fingers tapped against the wheel with one hand, your other hand hung out the window of your car, dancing in the wind. Music blasted through the speakers of your SUV, Ramblin’ Man pouring out as you drove down the long stretch of quiet highway on the bright summer day. The barren Texas flatlands stretched for miles before you, not a single car in sight.

You let your foot go heavy on the pedal, racing across the plains, the warm wind nice across your cheeks. Driving all day from Phoenix to Austin wasn’t exactly fun, but you were in a good mood. A great mood. One of those rare moments of peace and serenity where you just felt still and whole.

You happy little bubble popped when you drove past a crossroads, a slick black motorcycle turning onto the highway behind you. Fuck. It was probably a cop. You’d been making good time too.

You sighed as it came up on you fast, tension rising in your bones as you waited for a siren, lights, something.

The motorcycle pulled up on your side, crossing the dotted yellow line and keeping pace with you. You turned your head, getting a better view of the bike. Okay, definitely not a police officer. Not unless Texas shelled out for jet black racing bikes with no markings. The rider was in head to toe sleek black leather, tight against his body with padding built in you were sure of. You couldn’t see past his black as night tinted visor. He, and it was most definitely a he based on those shoulders, turned his head toward you before raising his hand, giving you a wave.

You raised your eyebrows behind your aviators. The rider gripped the handlebars again, starting to weave his bike left and right ever so slightly before he straightened again. You tilted your head when he lifted his right hand and signed a simple gesture.

“Hi.”

Okay…what were the odds some crazed person knew sign language? Probably lower than average and if worst came to worst, you’d just gun it until you hit a town.

You waved back to him, the man sitting up more and returning it. Then he was leaning back even more, popping a wheelie. Your heart skipped as he tore down the highway besides you, only setting the bike down when you flailed your arm for him to get it down on the ground. He finally did so, pointing at himself and looking around when you frowned at him.

“Behave down there!” You shouted out the window, even though he’d never hear it. He simply kept driving next to you, playing as he did so, doing something even more reckless each time he got you to laugh or smile.

But eventually you were coming up on a town and the roads were about to get busier. He made a quick gesture with his hand before taking off ahead of you, getting in front of you in your lane and disappearing down the road.

“Boys,” you mumbled, trying not to think of the last thing he’d signed.

“I had fun, sweetheart. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Six Hours Later

You’d wearily made it to Austin and after a quick shower at your hotel, you headed out to grab dinner at a local bar.

“Hi,” said a handsome man when he took a seat next to you at the crowded bar top.

“Hi,” you said politely, returning your gaze to scanning the menu. The stranger's eyes lingered though, your head turning slightly to find a smile on his face. “Can I help you?”

“No, just funny running into you again today.” You raised an eyebrow, the man chuckling. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life.”

“Darn it,” he said, feigning a sigh. “Here I thought I made an impression. Did I not do enough wheelies?” Then he signed, “Sweetheart,” with his hand, flashing you a wink.

Your eyes went wide, the man smirking. “You! That was completely reckless.”

“So was going a hundred down the highway, rebel,” he teased. He turned his body to face you, smiling hard. “You’re telling me I wasn’t the best part of your day?”

“You’re a menace,” you said, picking up your drink.

“And that wasn’t a denial.” He waved down the bartender, pointing at your drink and holding up two fingers. “So. You like me better as the silent mysterious type with a helmet over my face?”

You rolled your eyes, taking the new drink. “It takes more than a pretty face to win me over, babe.”

“How about a ride on it?” You blinked.

“A ride on your…” you swallowed, the man chuckling.

“My bike. Although you are more than welcome to ride anything of mine you like,” he said. You scoffed, ignoring the fact you hadn’t been with anyone in far, far too long and here was a man handsome as sin offering himself up to you. “Alright. I pushed too far. My apologies.”

“…Why do you know sign language?” you asked.

“My sister in law is deaf. I actually just became an uncle,” he said with a proud smile. “I had to finish up some work before heading back home for good. I’m going be a firefighter actually.”

He looked so…boyish for a moment that you smiled at his genuine pride.

“Good for you,” you said. “I’m just passing through myself. My old friend just had a baby up north.”

“So what’s to stop you from cutting loose tonight? I’ll even pay for dinner like a proper gentleman.” You glanced away, the man tilting his head when your eyes darted back. “I promise to be as well or badly behaved as you want.”

You looked him up and down, the man still sporting those boots and padded pants.

Oh fuck it.

“I ain’t getting on the back of that bike without a helmet.” His grin turned devilish, even when you held up a finger. “Calm down, big boy. Let’s see how you last through dinner.”

“You holding on tight?” asked Dean nearly two hours later when you were on the outskirts of the city. Only Dean. Tonight was a one time thing and that meant no last names, no histories, just plain old fun.

“Yeah, why?” you asked when he chuckled beneath you.

“Cause I’m gonna blow your mind, sweetheart.” He revved the engine and took off like a bat out of hell, going faster and faster, so fast your heart was in your throat. “Here we go!”

“What are you-“ You screeched when he popped a wheelie with you on the back, setting it down after only a few seconds. “Dean!”

“More you say?” Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Morning,” mumbled Dean, a kiss pressed against your temple. You groggily opened your eyes, the clock flashing that it was ten. You felt him pull the sheets up over your bare back, Dean running a hand over your head. “Wake up beautiful. You need a shower before you check out.”

“Yeah,” you yawned, sitting up in bed, watching him dress. He smirked as you openly eyed his body, Dean cupping your cheeks in his hands when he finished. “One night, right?”

“You deserve better than me, Y/N. You’ll find him someday. Until then though, just know you are the best I’ve ever had.”

“You say that to all the girls,” you laughed, Dean smiling.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he said, kissing you once more. “Careful driving today.”

“You too. And don’t flirt with girls like that anymore. You’ll kill yourself on that bike.”

“Only flirt with you, got it,” he said. You playfully punched his arm, Dean letting your hands linger one last moment before pulling away. “In a another life, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Dean.”

You hadn’t planned on getting such a late start to the day but your night with Dean had been worth it. In a way, you wished you’d forced the issue and gotten his number at the very least. Sure, the motorcycle ride and sex were great but he was good company, funny and silly but something grounded to him that let you know you were safe with him. Eileen was always on you about living a life more outside of hunting and now that you’d officially retired, you were about to start living it more.

Including telling her all about your wonderful hookup.

You pulled up outside a house in Lawrence in the suburbs just after seven, barely up the front steps before the front door opened and Eileen hopped out, pulling you into a big hug.

“I missed you too,” you laughed, giving her a big squeeze, holding on tight. While you’d talked, you hadn’t been able to see her in person since she came back from the dead and this reunion was long overdue. “Come on, let me see the baby.”

“He just went down for bedtime. But he will happily see you in the morning,” she said, taking your hand and dragging you inside. “We just got the grill going out back.”

“Good. I’m starving and miss your burgers,” you said, letting her have another round of hugs with you. “Well if I can’t see the babe yet, you gotta let me meet your husband.”

“You know he has a brother that’s single,” she grinned, taking you through the house and to the back deck where a very tall man worked over a grill. “Sam! Y/N’s finally here!”

“Well it’s about time,” he said, picking you up in a hug. He smiled gently as he set you down. “I’m so happy Eileen has a friend in town.”

“Maybe you guys can give me advice on how the whole retirement thing works. I’ve just been traveling around aimlessly the past few months,” you said, taking a beer when Eileen offered it.

“You’ll figure it out,” said Sam, the rumble of an engine on the street out front echoing through the yard.

“That’ll be his very single brother,” said Eileen. You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, he hunted too! You guys would so get along now that you’re both retired.”

“I’ve dated other hunters and it never worked out, thank you very much,” you said.

“You’re lucky I managed to grab the last bag of franks,” said an all too familiar voice. You spun around, Dean, your Dean from last night, standing right in front of you wearing jeans and a white plain t-shirt. He dropped the package of hot dogs, both of you staring at the other.

“I told you he was good looking!” joked Eileen.

“You?” asked Dean.

“You’re Dean fucking Winchester?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N, Eileen’s bestie?” You both nodded, Sam picking up the package and looking at you both like you were nuts.

“Uh, do you two know each other?” asked Sam.

“Some would say intimately,” said Dean.

“We’ll be right back,” you said, grabbing his bicep, ignoring the strength in it as you dragged him down the steps and around the corner of the house. You stared at him, Dean running a hand through his hair. “I thought you were a fireman!”

“I’m about to start my training. I was in Phoenix, cleaning up one last job but…someone had already fixed the sigils,” he mumbled. “You?”

“Yes, me,” you said, closing your eyes, putting your hands on your hips. “I worked out of Washington mostly. Eileen asked if I would clean up a sigil on my way down here. I-I’m staying here for a bit to help with the baby while I find a place in town.”

“So you’re that friend of hers…” he trailed off, eyes darting around your face. His lips parted but no words escaped them. An unpleasant crack tore through your heart. Gone was the happy go lucky flirt from twelve hours ago. Instead a man filled with horrors beyond imagination stood before you, a desperation in his eyes that made your skin crawl.

“You were wrong back at the hotel.” He shook off whatever thoughts were running through his mind, confusion entering the forefront of his mind. “This morning you said I deserved better than you.”

“You do,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m-”

“Dean Winchester. I’ve heard about you. We all have,” you said softly, taking one of his hands in yours. He swallowed, closing his eyes. “You deserve the world and I’m not just saying that because of last night. You more than did your part.”

“I’m not the guy from last night. I am severely fucked up-”

“Oh get in line, Winchester.” He blinked rapidly, brows furrowing. “You think you’re the only one with daddy issues and who’s died and seen the shit hunters do? No, you’re not. There’s plenty of us who have. I retired because of you. I retried because Eileen told me her friends the Winchesters saved us all and I could quit. I should quit. She told me to live my life. So you and me? We’re going to live our lives as fucked up as we are. And last night…fuck, I had fun. You had fun. I forgot about the nightmares and I think you did too. You think Eileen and your brother aren’t as screwed up as us? Of course they are but they aren’t scared to do the hard thing and move on. So why not us too? It doesn’t have to be together but-”

“Shut up,” he said, slamming his lips to yours. It was hard, rough. Something possessive underneath the surface that had you sucking in air when he pulled back, tugging your bottom lip along the way.

“Kissing me won’t make me shut up, Winchester,” you breathed, Dean ghosting over your lips, cradling a hand against the back of your neck to keep you close. “We aren’t strangers anymore. You want more, you got to give me more.”

“You want a visitors pass to the insane asylum in my head?” he laughed dryly.

“Visitor pass? Honey, I live there, just a different ward is all.” He flashed his eyes open, green orbs hesitant. “I ain’t doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I’m screwed up too and you’re going to have to give as good as you get. I need that. You need that. So either walk away if you just want to be friends-”

“Odds are this crashes and burns,” he said. Your hands slid to his cheeks, smirking up at him. “What?”

“Good thing I got my own firefighter then.” He raised an eyebrow, smiling when you tilted your chin up. “Stealing my moves?”

“Just remembered you were warned, sweetheart.”

“We’re going to work on that self-talk.” You tiled your chin further, Dean meeting your mouth, a smile in it. For the first time in a long time, in years, you let yourself think about a future and what that looked like. Dean pulled away slowly when Sam called for you both, his thumb brushing your chin.

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it with some help,” he murmured, trailing his knuckles down your arm, stopping at your hand to lace your fingers together.

Yeah, the future was looking a little brighter these days.

_________________

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x female!reader #dean #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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bluhourz · 2 days ago

Text

when he yells at you

After a few days apart, you finally had an evening to spend with Beomgyu. You’d missed him more than you realized, and the moment you walked through his door, his presence alone made you feel at home. But something felt off. He hugged you tightly at first, holding on for just a second too long, before pulling away with a sigh.

“You okay?” you asked, searching his face.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, offering you a small smile. “Just tired.”

You could tell there was more to it, but you didn’t want to push. Instead, you laced your fingers through his and pulled him toward the kitchen.

“Come on,” you said. “Let’s make dinner together. We haven’t done that in forever.”

Beomgyu groaned dramatically as you tugged him along. Flopping onto the counter, he sighed excessively. “Do we have to? Can’t we just order something?”

“Nope,” you grinned. “I'm in the mood for something specific so homemade ramyeon it is.”

He sighed but didn’t protest further, instead watching as you gathered the ingredients. You knew he actually also preferred this, even as he argued against it. After a few moments, he started helping — chopping green onions, cracking eggs, even playfully poking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. It felt nice. Comfortable. He wasn’t as talkative as usual, but you didn’t push him. You tried to keep things light, telling him stories about your week and cracking dumb jokes, hoping to ease whatever weight he was carrying. He laughed a little, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

When the ramyeon was finally ready, you carefully lifted the pot to dish it up. But as you set it down, your grip slipped just slightly, and some broth splashed onto the counter. You didn't think too much of it since this is something you do more often than not.

Before you could grab a towe thoughl, Beomgyu suddenly yelled, “Seriously? Can you just be careful for once?”

You froze, startled by the sharpness in his voice. Your heart lurched in your chest as you turned to look at him, not understanding what just happened. But his gaze was hard, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“I—” you started, but you caught yourself. Instead, you swallowed and nodded. “Sorry.”

Beomgyu exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t say anything else, but the mood had shifted completely. You finished serving the food, setting his bowl in front of him before sitting down.

The air between you was heavy. Neither of you spoke as you ate, the only sounds in the room being the quiet clinking of chopsticks against bowls. You kept your eyes down, not daring to meet his gaze. The whole time you were trying to figure out what just happened.

Dinner felt like it lasted forever though. When you were finished, you got up wordlessly and started washing the dishes. You couldn't sit there any longer than you needed to. The running water filled the silence, giving you something to focus on besides the weight in your chest.

As you scrubbed the last bowl, you sensed someone behind you. You turned your head slightly and saw Beomgyu standing in the doorway, watching you. You could see he wanted to talk so you waited him out.

After a few minutes of silence, you decide to head to bed. You met his eyes as you walked in his direction, but you didn’t say anything. As you went to walk past him, his hand reached out, fingers curling gently around your arm.

“What is it?” you asked quietly, glancing at him quickly.

Instead of answering, he pulled you into a hug. You stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then slowly brought your arms up to wrap around him. It felt like he needed it. He clung to you, his face buried in your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

You stayed still, waiting.

After a moment, he spoke again. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His expression was tight, his lips pressed together like he was holding something in.

“What’s wrong Gyu?” you asked gently.

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t know. Everything’s been piling up lately. Schedules, expectations, feeling like I have to be ‘on’ all the time. And then I finally get to be with you, and instead of being happy, I’m just… tired. Frustrated. And I took it out on you.”

You searched his face, taking in the exhaustion in his eyes, the slight downward curve of his lips. Your heart ached for him.

“You could’ve just told me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to act like everything’s fine all the time.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I know. I just—I didn’t want to ruin our time together. But I ended up ruining it anyway.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t ruin anything, Beomgyu. You’re allowed to have bad days. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His grip on you tightened. “I don’t deserve you.”

You frowned. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” he murmured. “You’re always so patient with me. Even when I really don’t deserve it.”

You reached up, brushing his hair out of his eyes a bit. “You always deserve kindness. Even when you’re struggling. Especially then.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time that night, you saw a hint of the Beomgyu you knew—the one who loved teasing you, making you laugh, holding you close just because he could.

“Come on,” you said, nudging him gently. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

The two of you moved through your nighttime routine together—brushing your teeth, washing up, changing into comfortable clothes. It felt normal again, like the tension from earlier had finally started to fade.

As you climbed into bed, Beomgyu pulled you into his arms, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. “I love you too.”

He sighed, his body relaxing against yours. “Thanks for being here.”

“Always.”

With that, you let the quiet settle around you, his warmth and steady breathing lulling you both into sleep, the heaviness of the night finally giving way to peace.

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nomsfaultau · 3 days ago

Text

It was like trying to hold water in cupped hands. Sanity trickling out no matter how tight Tommy pressed his fingers together. Another drop splattering on the bathroom floor. Another second closer to when he finally murdered Tubbo.

Tommy couldn’t trust that his longing to turn Tubbo instead was anything other than vamperic hunger tempting him. Those words Tubbo said pounding in his head over, over, he knows I wouldn’t leave him. He was scared to ask what Tubbo meant by that, if he even understood what the horror of eternity really entailed.

Tommy knew it wasn’t fair, for him to make this choice for Tubbo. But he couldn’t bear to know Tubbo’s answer. Philza had been right about how cruelly selfish a vampire’s love was.

But he wouldn’t be Tubbo, just like Tommy wasn’t Tommy anymore. He was killing his friend either way.

Though a last desperate instinct was screaming at him to run in the handful of moments before dawn and his sanity broke, Tommy couldn’t. What would they do to Tubbo? Close enough to protect his friend was too close to be safe. Surely whatever torture they inflicted would be crueler.

He could tell the moment Tubbo woke by the hitch of his breath. By the creak of the bed he could picture the arc of Tubbo’s body as he stretched, tongue curling with a yawn. The scruffy mess of fluffy hair covering bleary eyes. The flutter of his tantalizing heartbeat. The scurry of nearby prey made his mind skitter out of grasp, and Tommy covered his ears miserably.

But this might be the last time they had together, or had at all. He wanted his friend so, so badly, never mind what that want entailed. All that came out was a low whine at first, and Tommy couched to clear his parched throat. “Big T?” he made out.

“Bossman!” It hurt how excited he sounded. At once Tubbo raced to the door. It refused to budge, stuck behind the rubble of the broken tub, and toilet, and sink, and drawer, and cabinets, and ripped up floor tiles, and every last shred of protection that Tommy could scrounge up. A useless bastion, constructed as it was by Tubbo’s bitter enemy.

“I don’t have much longer, Tubbo.”

“Oh.” A shift, as he unconsciously stepped back. Trepidation laced his voice, soft like he was scared of hurting Tommy. “Can- can you hold out just a little longer?”

Tommy choked on a sudden sob. It was the first time Tubbo had begged for his life, but it wouldn’t be the last. Level now, not scared, yet, eventually screamed when it was too late for Tommy to understand it. But he heard it now, while it could still hurt.

“It’s okay!” Tubbo rushed out. “I don’t need much more time. Just- how long do I have?”

“I’m so sorry Tubbo.”

“Don’t be, just tell me.” It was abrupt, almost a snap. Because of course this was so, so much worse for Tubbo. Tommy shrunk in shame.

“Maybe a day. Two. Didn’t mean to scare you there. Just meant…I won’t be to do this anymore. Like: talking, thinking. Pretending to be a person. The blood I took from Phil wasn’t enough.” He’d licked every last drop off the bathroom floor.

“You bit him?” What kind of monster would do that? Reluctantly, Tommy confirmed. But Tubbo only laughed lightly. “Nice. Reckon it hurt?”

“Um. Probably, I bit the finger clean off.”

“Permanently?”

“Nah. It’ll regen.” Unless it got in sunlight. Not that Philza was stupid enough to.

Their conversation was nice enough, though lulled frequently, both of them distracted. But Tubbo forced the topic to be light, upbeat, and Tommy wouldn’t ruin it for the world. They ignored what was to come. They had to. And so the friends talked about movies they wanted to see, and old childhood memories, and pretended to make weekend plans for a future that didn’t exist. He could hear Tubbo pace, full of energetic life despite it all. The rustling of something or other. It did something funny to his back brain, like dangling something in front of a cat. The conversation listed to the side as it became harder to concentrated

He slipped deeper into the familiar haze. His last wound was too long ago, but he was running out of fresh areas. And maybe Philza was right, that his desperate attempt to postpone Tubbo’s death had really only hastened it. Without blood the healing was slow. But he had time. Plummeting fast, so so much quicker than last time as the brief high petered out. Tubbo’s conversation came in random bursts, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he had nothing to say or if Tommy was losing his grasp that quick.

The scent of fresh blood burst into his nostrils, and in a blink he was at the door, inhuman strength blurring limbs as he ripped away the mounds of ruins barring the door.

Tommy caught himself on the threshold. Claws sunk in deep as if that could hold himself back. Too eager. Alarm bells ringing. Tubbo, stop, protect-

“You can drain animals, right? Cause I’ll feel stupid having gone through all this effort if not.”

The days of holding himself back nearly crumbled as Tubbo opened the door. It only grew worse as the human immediately drained seeing him, horror captured in round eyes. The feeding hiss poured out of Tommy’s throat automatically. And a blur as he lost control, and teeth sinking into flesh, and sweet fresh blood.

What was he eating? The question was small in his head, drowning. So unimportant. He was finally fed. But persistent in a way that was annoying.

What was he eating? Who was he eating?

Tubbo. Tubbo what if it’s Tubbo stop you can’t Tubbo no Tubbo- but he couldn’t pry his jaws open even as he began to panic, the world was a blur of blood. How much had he drunk? Was it already too late?

“Philza did that to you?”

It wrenched Tommy’s focus out of the blood thirst fueled spiral. Meat squelched in his hands as he unclenched his pulverizing grasp, staring vacantly at the dead rat turned to bloody pulp. Yes. Philza did this to him. Turned him into something so desperate it would eat a dead rat.

Unsure of how he got here, Tommy slowly looked up to Tubbo as the human gently knelt before him. As Tubbo reached for him, for an irrational moment Tommy thought he meant to steal the rat before he was done, and clutched it protectively to his chest. But Tubbo carefully ghosted over the deep gouges and bitemarks in Tommy’s arms. “He- in the bathroom, he was snarling so much and I couldn’t protect you since you wouldn’t open the door! And look at you! you’re half dead!”

He stared at Tubbo in utter bewilderment. “I am dead.” After months of broken bones and pulverized flesh from escapes casually dismissed by his coven, Tommy couldn’t understand why Tubbo was so upset, using ripped sheet strips at once to wrap up injuries already beginning to recover with the recent feeding. The Jawless One alone was proof enough a vampire could survive no matter how mangled. How quickly he’d unlearned sixteen years of human education upon the subjects of pain and lethality. Philza, Technoblade, and the Jawless One were swift teachers.

“It’s fine really,” he assured, uncomfortable with Tubbo’s empathy. “It’ll heal with more blood.”

Tubbo thrust his wrist forward. “Here. Dessert? You can control it now that you’ve had the rat right? So it’s fine.” Tommy shook his head adamantly. Huffing, Tubbo rolled his eyes. “You judge dying children for needing transfusions do you? Innit literally just a blood donation?”

“No.”

“Why? You homophobic, too? Cause that’s the only other reason someone’s refused to let me donate.”

“I’m not homophobic!” Tommy laughed. A mistake, since Tubbo shoved his wrist into Tommy’s open mouth. He froze on soft skin, then spat it out. “Ew! You’re gross from not bathing for so long. Nooo thanks. Plus I think it makes me more homophobic if I do eat a gay person.”

“Why? Scared to suck another man?” He laughed as Tommy shoved him back. “Come onnnnn just a small amount? Not too much, since I haven’t eaten either and might pass out.” Tommy stared at the corpse, then glanced to Tubbo as he wiped the blood dripping off his chin and licked his stained hands. Uh. Tommy grabbed the rat by the tail and shoved it in Tubbo’s direction. Tubbo pulled a face. “No thanks big T. We don’t have a way to cook it. I don’t need to be dealing with diarrhea while we- are trapped in here. Anyway. Uh. Quick question I’ve only just now thought of this very second: how good is vampire hearing?”

“It’s- pretty good. Why?” Tubbo’s head jerked to the door. “Wait you think they’ve been listening to us the whole time??”

Tubbo gave him a ‘seriously dude!?’ expression then announced, “what? Why would they? Especially after we were saying nothing for days. Surely it’d be boring.” He rolled his eyes while tapping a finger to his pursed lips. But…if Tubbo had been measuring his words the whole time, why risk letting Tommy know his line of thought now? Well, besides the fact he finally felt sentient again. Amazed, he asked Tubbo how he managed to kill the rat. “Well, human hearing is just good enough I could barely hear them at night. So that’s why I wondered if it was driving you nuts, too,” he covered. “I had some crumbs in my pocket. Not enough for me, but Mickey over there couldn’t help himself. Didn’t know what was coming when my trap kicked in!”

“What trap?”

“…waiting until it was close enough and braining it with a giant book.”

“You’re a genius,” he said, and meant it.

Tubbo grinned. “Definitely! Here, now that you’re normal again you can help me make a trap. You’ll have as many rats as you want, bossman.” Only, he winked. And then winked again as Tommy stared at him blankly. Then nudged Tommy with his elbow. Then sighed in defeat, and dragged Tommy to the bathroom, pointing repeatedly at the window.

Tommy shook his head furiously. Tubbo nodded just as furiously. Tommy shook his head even harder, blurring at inhuman speeds. Scowling, Tubbo stalked back out, seizing something and dragging it in. At once Tommy’s eyes were transfixed by the stake in his fist. It took a second to rip his gaze away to the long coils of tied together cloth strips. Tubbo lifted the heavy tangle of objects tied to the end for weight, swinging slightly. Pain stakingly -uh, not literally- he pantomimed actions until Tommy cottoned on. A zipline? Well he supposed it made sense, Tubbo couldn’t exactly fly. Philza had surely counted on Tubbo being slow, weak, a liability that would ensure their quick recapture.

The vampires had underestimated Tubbo. So had Tommy. He eyed the stake casually shoved in one of Tubbo’s pockets.

“You weren’t making the- just in case I…?”

Tubbo blinked at him. “That…wasn’t what I designed it for, no.” But by the hesitation, it became so. Tubbo tried to apologize through eyes alone for granting the only hope that had kept Tommy going.

“Good. Good. The fact you had it made me feel better.”

Tubbo’s expression was horrible. “Welp. Is what it is.”

With Tommy’s help, he broke the window out of the frame to maximize the size. Tubbo tingled the escape efforts, already there silently pantomiming the next step as if having run through it mentally hundreds of times. He grinned wildly, sticking his head out the window to survey the shadowed plummet below. Past the most to the dark forest and beyond, the horizon stretching out.

And then he hesitated for the first time, turning back. “Can you?” Tubbo asked, haloed in sunlight. Just the verge of dawn, before the full brunt of day would bear down. The confidence that he glowed with flickered, uncertainty growing. All the questions he couldn’t have asked, scared of being overheard and his plan revealed. Because, truly, it was a plan only a human could make.

And, well. Tubbo wouldn’t leave without him.

Tommy grinned. “Naw, it’s a myth. Just irritating.” The way Tubbo beamed at him, full of hope, had to be more than worth the lie.

I had a dream about vampire dark sbi, where Tommy was turned into a fledgling against his will and was desperate to escape. His coven had other ideas however, and so Tommy was constantly getting hunted down by Philza, Techno, and the Jawless One.

oh. Were you you expecting Wilbur? No that dude is problematic, and my dream presented the ideal solution: replacing him with a monster made of long mangled limbs and a ripped off jaw that dangles on a thread of viscera. So I’m just sayin, here’s how 4/4 can still work-

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goodlucktai · 3 days ago

Text

so then i took my turn

in stars and time pairing: isafrin (onesided) (but not really) word count: 2k title borrowed from yellow by coldplay alternatively—if you don't have your own north star, store-bought is fine :)

read on ao3

You don’t connect the dots right away—as a matter of fact, you won’t connect these particular dots for years—but one night you look up at the starry sky and you make a wish.

You’re tired and your legs are sore from a day full from end to end of walking. The road is long, and the end of it looms dark and inevitable ahead of you. You do your best to be a bastion of optimism for Mirabelle and Odile, but you don’t know how well you do. You don’t know if your best is enough on its own. Shamefully, selfishly, you think it would be nice to not be the only one determined to make a bleak day brighter just because.

There isn’t a Favor Tree there to catch the wish when you make it. There’s no ritual behind it. You don’t even know you’re going to do it until the second you do.

You look up at a curtain of tiny twinkling lights, not fully understanding their place in the family of things but appreciating the stubborn, knife-like way they pierce through the night and shine anyway.

Maybe they’re the ones you’re praying to when you whisper, “We could use a little help.”

The next morning, your group crosses paths with a traveler.

The traveler appears out of nowhere, dispatching a Sadness three times their size without even losing their floppy pointed hat from its place on their head, a curved dagger in hand that, much like its wielder, seems entirely too small to pack the punch that it does. The encounter starts before you even realized a Sadness was creeping behind you and ends before you can jump in to help.

The traveler looks as surprised by your thanks as you were by his sudden arrival. He tucks his knife away, hides his hands beneath his voluminous darkless cloak, and peeks at you through a curly cloud of hair.

In that moment he resembles nothing more than a tiny tidepool creature retreating into its shell. You think, absurdly, about scooping him up.

Mirabelle will tell you later that she had almost let first impressions get the best of her, assuming that the mysterious rogue would be unfriendly or standoffish. Odile chimed in that she knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but found herself surprised by the vibrant personality their new friend revealed as the hours went by on the road with nothing to do but get to know one another.

You, on the other hand, were a lost cause from the second Siffrin opened their mouth.

“You looked like you could use a little help,” they say. “Just a stab in the dark.”

A joke is the last thing any of you were expecting and maybe it wasn’t a joke but the emphasis was so pointed that you open your mouth before you can overthink it and say, “And you were right! You’re pretty sharp.”

Mirabelle looks politely confused and Odile looks like she can not believe this is her life. The traveler’s dark eyes turn wide and bright and they lift their chin out of the collar of their cloak enough that you can see the stretching corners of their grin.

“Would you say I’m a cut above the rest?”

Oh, yeah. You’re in trouble.

——

Siffrin is still very new to the group the first time your quest comes to a temporary stop in a friendly little town resting alongside the natural bend of the road, tucked away in the hills. It’s lucky timing to be certain, because the four of you are in dire need of a restock of pretty much everything and you don’t have a ton of daylight left.

Odile makes the executive decision that it would be the most efficient use of their time to divide and conquer. Mirabelle goes to secure lodging, you’re tasked with tracking down a general goods store for blankets and tarps or a tent if you can find one, Odile is taking charge of tonics and medical supplies, which leaves the food to Siffrin.

He’s given a specific list of purchases to make and pointed in the direction of the market. You find him there a little more than an hour later. The late afternoon sun is burning low in the sky and Siffrin is drifting aimlessly with exactly none of the items on his shopping list and, inexplicably, a handful of ripe carambolas.

It’s the end of a long day at the end of a long walk, and Odile, to her credit, manages not to outright snap at your new friend. But her tone is distinctly impatient when she asks, “Should we write you a note next time?”

She clearly isn’t expecting Siffrin to take her seriously, or for them to nod so eagerly that the wide brim of their hat flops with it. She blinks, surprised, sharp eyes flicking over their face. And then the whole of her softens, that blink-and-you-miss-it compassion she likes to pretend doesn’t exist just on the inside of her prickly exoskeleton.

“Noted,” Odile says. Her voice is still brisk but not irritated anymore. “It’d be better for us to buy fresh when the market opens again in the morning, anyway.”

“Yeah, good thinking, Sif,” you say, immediately jumping on board this mission of banishing the awkwardness still clinging to your friend’s hunched shoulders.

You would be the first to tell anybody who asked—or anybody within your vicinity who wasn’t even interested in hearing about it, really—that Siffrin is more than capable. He’s quick-footed and clever and a menace with his scissors craft and also with his wordplay. You know damn well that Siffrin doesn’t need a bodyguard or a cheerleader.

Sometimes you wish you could be those things for him anyway. You wish you could pluck him right out of every situation that makes him feel uncomfortable or self-conscious or small. It’s better when he’s laughing, doubled over and hugging his stomach, noisy and taking up all the space he needs.

But instead you settle for nudging him conspiratorially, tipping your chin toward the fruits he purchased, and adding, “Berry good thinking.”

He goes absolutely still at the touch of your hand, eyes like lamps. You have the sense, for just a moment, sudden and nerve-wracking, that you did something wrong. Then he smiles.

“A-pear-antly,” he says, smile only widening when Odile groans. “My ideas are one in a melon.”

But you catch them rubbing their arm where you touched them. You can only tell because their cloak falls open for a second as they turn, revealing their fingers buried in their own sleeve. And you kick yourself for just assuming that Siffrin is as tactile as Mira and yourself are just because he laughs as readily as them. Odile doesn’t like to be touched, either, and you’re easily capable of respecting her boundaries. You can just as easily respect Siffrin’s.

And it’s totally fine!! you think, dashing away every lived-in daydream of holding Siffrin’s hand or burying your fingers in his darkless hair. His hair that probably feels as downy soft as rabbit fur. You would probably never know but that’s so fine.

And if it feels like your crush just got a million times more hopeless, well. That’s your personal business.

——

The written reminders become a common thing. Mira likes to draw little animal faces or hearts on the notes she writes. You doodle along the edges of yours, looping patterns or jokes that it makes your heart warm to imagine Siffrin reading to himself and snickering over.

Odile doesn’t embellish the pages but she sometimes folds them with a few crisp, practiced presses and presents Siffrin with a note in the shape of a bird or a cat. She rolls her eyes when her friends gasp in delight but sometimes isn’t quite quick enough to hide her smile behind her journal.

Siffrin is silent so much of the time that it’s easy to forget that he’s actually very silly, and very sweet, and achingly sincere. You watch him cross tasks off his list as he completes them, shimmying his shoulders to a victory tune inside his head, and you just—Change, you like him so much. Too much. It’s a lot to carry. Where are you supposed to put it down?

“When should we start to worry about that, do you think?” Odile surprises you by asking. She’s looking where you’re looking, at your forgetful rogue double-checking where he’s supposed to go next. Even though, like, you just discussed it as a team, and he’s not even all the way down the street yet.

“What? Sif?” You frown. “They’re fine. They just—they just have a hard time remembering stuff.”

Odile gives you a look that makes you feel uncomfortably seen. Which is not out of the ordinary for her. This particular look says I know about your dumb crush and thus far I’ve done you the favor of not detailing for you just how much it stands to potentially complicate my life so you can do me the favor of not playing stupid.

You might be projecting. It makes you straighten your shoulders anyway, like you’re still a Defender on the job.

“Last night at dinner, Mirabelle asked them about their knife, and Siffrin said that it originated in their country as a tool for raking and farming,” Odile recounts briskly just to drive her point home. “And then Mirabelle asked what it was called, and Siffrin disassociated mid-word.”

That’s the best word for it, but also not, because it’s too clinical to do justice the way it made your heart plummet into your stomach.

Siffrin’s eyes had turned vacant, expression faraway. They sat there with their fork hovering above their plate like a sleepwalker, like someone had reached into their soul and turned the light off inside. It lasted about six seconds but it felt like as many hours—long enough that Mira started to lift her hands, as if there was something in front of her that she could heal, and Odile moved her chair back to get up for help, and you said his name twice, louder the second time, heart lurching anxiously.

Then Siffrin blinked, and smiled, and said, “Sorry, Mira. What was the question again?”

Yeah, you remember. And you didn’t sleep a wink all night because of it. You laid awake and stared at the tuft of pale hair peeking out from the bundle of stolen covers on Siffrin’s side of the bed the two of you shared and wondered what happened to them. What their mind could possibly be trying to protect them from, that even a little history lesson about Siffrin’s faithful dagger was enough to trigger its defenses.

Let me in, you think at him, desperate with wanting it, with wanting him to hear it. Let me help.

The space between you sometimes feels like an ocean between two countries. It would be so easy to touch him. You’re very careful not to.

“He’ll come to us when he’s ready,” you say, hoping that by saying it out loud you’re making it true. “If we can trust him to lead us through danger, we can trust him this much, too, right?”

Odile sighs, but not as though she disagrees. It’s a little like the way she sighed when she first met Mirabelle, and learned about her quest, and said, “And you’re how old?” She sighs like that a lot.

——

Mirabelle is your leader but it’s Siffrin you all follow, Siffrin who leads the way through mazes and certain dangers. He’s always a step ahead, sniffing out traps and picking his way around them, light on his feet and as weightless as a bird when he perches over this or that trigger and warns his friends to step carefully.

“Fix your face,” Odile mutters, smirking, when you spend a second too long admiring his form.

“MADAME,” you say, totally normal, totally not a shriek.

Mirabelle turns and looks curiously back at you, too far ahead to hear, thank Change.

Siffrin told you once about something called Polaris. He said it was the brightest star in the Ursa Minor constellation, and always led true North. He beamed at you, safe in the knowledge, easy in his element, and said, “I can find my way home from anywhere.”

He didn’t remember telling you, and looked politely confused when you asked him about it later, but you never forgot.

Polaris. Nonsense to you, a made-up word that doesn’t mean anything, but you relive the way he said it over and over. He said it like someone who belonged somewhere. Someone who could never get lost, because there was a map in the stars that he knew how to read. It sounded like a fairy tale.

But sometimes you catch him glancing up at the sky before picking a new direction to walk in, and it always ends up being the right way to go. You watch him run ahead to find a safe way forward for the rest of you, his pale coat a beacon in the dark, and think about something he called the North star.

——

“It’s getting dark,” Mirabelle frets, clutching her hands together anxiously.

“Frin’ll be fine,” Bonnie scoffs, as if they hadn’t adamantly and at the very top of their lungs refused to start dinner until Siffrin arrived.

“Are you sure you put where we were meeting on their reminder note, Mirabelle?” Odile says wryly.

“Oh no!!” Mira says frantically. “I don’t think I did, oh no!!”

Your group is one missing part away from whole, and none of you are inclined to go inside yet. You linger out in the yard as daylight dwindles into nothing.

A few of those lights in the sky begin to shine through the dusk. They catch your eye.

They’re pretty, and you’re a deeply romantic person, so you don’t hate the idea of there being some kind of design up there that you just can’t seem to ever see properly, no matter how much you squint or tilt your head. You like to believe it’s there anyway, that one night it’ll just click and you’ll be that much closer to understanding the mystery wrapped in tragedy wrapped in fantasy of your favorite person. It’s enough that Siffrin believes it, when he remembers he believes it.

But as pretty as they are, they’re not very reliable. You can’t always see them. Some nights aren’t good for stargazing. Sometimes the sky’s cloudy.

Good thing there are other lights to see by. Warmer and brighter lights, more dependable by virtue of being placed by loving hands. You left lanterns on the path to the clocktower for Siffrin, beacons to guide him the way he’s always guided you. You will never, for as long as you live, let Siffrin get lost.

You don’t say it out loud but you’re worried about them. They looked tired today. In front of the Favor Tree, they seemed one harsh wind from blowing completely apart. Trembling in front of you as if you both weren’t standing in full sun, in a way that reminded you of the day after they lost their eye.

He had been in so much pain that his limbs all quivered with it, but he still managed to carve out a smile. He still managed to scrounge up a joke. You learned then that you’re not really certain you can trust him when he says he’s okay. You can trust him with everything but himself.

Siffrin said he was okay earlier. He kept looking over at the Favor Tree like he had something to do. You wanted to touch his trembling shoulder so badly that your hand ached with wanting it. You know better, so you left him alone.

You hope he gets whatever it is he wants badly enough to actually ask for.

#in stars and time #isat #isabeau #siffrin #isafrin #my writing #isat fic

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badgalsasuke · 3 days ago

Text

Kishimoto interview with Kobayashi for Mandō Kobayashi broadcasted on Fuji TV Dec. 13th 2014

LINK TO THE INTERVIEW

This is a transcription of (most of) the interview. Please watch the video of the interview that I already linked above the image while reading the transcription because there are times where Kishimoto and Kobayashi are discussing a manga panel or notes from Kishimoto's concept notebook and if you're not seeing it then the transcription won't make sense to you.

Also keep in mind this is a very long interview that lasts 54 minutes in video.

INTRO (0:00-6:32)

Kobayashi: Let's start the mission now. Kishimoto: Excuse me! Hello! Kobayashi: Nice to meet you, my name is Kento Kobayashi Kishimoto: Nice to meet you, I'm Kishimoto Kobayashi: Are you Kishimoto-sensei? Kishimoto: Yes.

Kobayashi: So, we came here from a show called Mandou Kobayashi, but first of all, congratulations on the end of your series. Today, rather than coming here on request, we actually came to surprise you. Is it okay if we ask you a bunch of questions?

Kishimoto: Please feel free to ask me anything. Kobayashi: Thank you for your permission, let's go in. So is this the workplace? Kishimoto: This is the workplace. Kobayashi: Until recently, fierce battles were taking place here too, right? Kishimoto: It's hell. (Kobayashi laughs)

(I don't know what they're saying from 0:53-1:02)

Kobayashi: Isn't this good? This freezer is amazing. Kishimoto: This is a freezer. Kobayashi: Yes. It's a second-hand one, isn't it? Kishimoto: That's right. I got this one that was used at Jump Festa. Kobayashi: Kishimoto-sensei? Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: You really wanted this one? Kishimoto: Yes, well actually, I wanted Goku. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: I wonder where Goku is now?

Kishimoto: Goku is at Oda's house right now (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: You'd have an assistant here? (Kobayashi points to desk) Kishimoto: Yes, that's right. The assistants here had already finished the manuscript, so they packed up and went home.

Kobayashi: I see. Kishimoto: There's nothing here anymore. It feels kind of lonely. Kobayashi: It feels kind of lonely, isn't it? Kishimoto: There's nothing to mess with. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: What's this? The adjustable desk? Kishimoto: Since it's the desk over there, it feels like I'm writing the manuscript here. Kobayashi: As I thought, when you write a color manuscript, you need vitamins, sensei. (Kobayashi grabs bottle of vitamins)

Kishimoto: So that's what it was, huh? I just ate it a moment ago. (Everyone chuckles)

Kobayashi: Hey, the staff didn't set something up like this. Kishimoto: This is different. Kobayashi: Are you trying to imitate us sneakily? Huh?

Kishimoto: I bought it out of my own pocket. I mean, I technically bought it under the company's expenses. (Everybody chuckles)

Kobayashi: You're kidding, right? If only you had told me that, sensei. Oh, but it would be really helpful for inventory control. That kind of thing, really.

Kishimoto: Well, this is… I found some old drama manuscripts, so I've left them here for a while. Kobayashi: Do these things ever get returned to the authors? Kishimoto: Yes, they do. Kobayashi: So, how much is it? 80 pages?

Kishimoto: I don't remember either... Oh Hinata, it's just Hinata. Not a movie script though. (laughs)

Kobayashi: Well, it turned out to be quite a coincidence sensei. (laughs)

Kishimoto: No, no, no. Kobayashi: As expected from a writer who has written such an epic masterpiece, how do you think he was able to digest all that foreshadowing?

Kobayashi: Surely this should be kept in a bank safe or something. Kishimoto: It's just sitting there with kids' clothes on top of it… Kobayashi: That is dangerous. Kishimoto: Some of it might disappear in a little while.

Kobayashi: is it like a movie concept notebook? For sensei's movies, you first sometimes come up with the original idea and the script, right? Kishimoto: Well, a little, but generally the screenwriters let me do this and that. I'm not the kind of guy who nitpicks or complains at all. There are things written there that have nothing to do with Naruto. Kobayashi: Things that have nothing to do with Naruto? For example, what do you mean? Kishimoto: Like stories I'd like to tell Mammone someday. (everybody laughs)

Kobayashi: Someday. Kishimoto: I'd like to do something like that. Kobayashi: It seems like this is the kind of design I thought of when we met. Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: Ok, ok, ok. Kishimoto: It has nothing to do with Naruto at all. Kobayashi: You just write down everything that comes to mind. Kishimoto: Well, I guess I'll write it here, around here. Kobayashi: [The Day] The Earth Stood Still*. (action movie, 2008) Kishimoto: I watch movies around here and think, "If it were me, I would do it this way," and then I write various things down here... what is this, a read-through?

Kobayashi: It's a one-shot… Kishimoto: It's a one-shot… Have you read it? Kobayashi: But it's quite… Can I just say something? Like… Like panel illustrations… Kishimoto: Ah, that's right. Kobayashi: So the course is quickly drawn here, like a panel layout. Kishimoto: I think it's an image of Kaguya… Kobayashi: Kaguya! Kishimoto: being sealed away, and Gai's final special move was supposed to be something like that, but in the end it was just a kick. (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: Look at this course. At the end, Sasuke and Naruto make a sign of reconciliation. It was already written here. Kishimoto: That's right. I wrote it around here. This is the original draft for Naruto, and it was only the first chapter… Kobayashi: This is the most important part, so to speak, for a young manga artist, the draft. Kishimoto: Before it started serialization. Kobayashi: Do you really have to write this much for a draft? Kishimoto: That's right. When you're starting, rookies need to have a good image and there's a solidarity meeting for that, and in order to pass it they make a good impression by trying their best and doing as much as possible. Kobayashi: That's it. Kishimoto: That's right.

Kobayashi: Isn't that just like the first chapter? Kishimoto: If I don't write it in that much detail, the image won't be conveyed. And I'm not trying to pander to anyone but... Kobayashi: "I'm a guy who can work hard and I want to show that". Kishimoto: Yes, show that.

Kobayashi: But somehow, you can see what Kishimoto-sensei has created, you know? Kishimoto: I quite like hero stories. Kobayashi: There are a lot of hero stories. Kishimoto: I quite like them.

Kobayashi: Toriyama-sensei is definitely someone great from that generation. Kishimoto: That's right. Surprisingly, my generation and everyone else feel like he's a god. Kobayashi: That's true, isn't it? Kishimoto: This is called a "gela/geller" and it means that only the parts related to Naruto are taken from Jump and then checked with this to see which parts of the manuscript need to be corrected before it actually becomes a comic. Kobayashi: Sensei, you change the wording of the book quite a lot, don't you? Kishimoto: Yes, but I guess I change it since the deadline isn't met, just a little bit..

Kobayashi: Were you under a lot of pressure? After all, it was a weekly serialization. Kishimoto: Yes, there were. Like with the Shadow Clone Jutsu… Kobayashi: I was planning to ask about that later but I'll ask here. Kishimoto: Okay, okay. Kobayashi: Our investigation has shown that Sensei may have dugged his own grave. Kishimoto: That's right. I messed up. Kobayashi: Since you already did it in the first chapter, you can't afford to power down from there. Kishimoto: That's right. You're constantly growing so you're getting more powerful, and the number of clones increases. Kobayashi: They just keep increasing, don't they? Kishimoto: I messed up… (Everyone laughs)

END OF INTRO, BEGINNING OF INTERVIEW (6:32-50:07)

Kobayashi: First of all, thank you so much for your hard work on that series. Kishimoto: Thank you very much.

Kobayashi: First of all, I want to ask about this Naruto work. I've made a timeline here, so please take a look at the first part. It starts with the Ninja Academy, then the Team 7 decisive test, the Land of Waves arc where they fight Zabuza and Haku, the Chunin Exams, Konoha's destruction and Gaara, Itachi and Akatsuki appear, the battle of the Legendary Sannin, Sasuke's defection, and a bit of Naruto's past. So, I was curious about where you started when you first thought about creating the Naruto series?

Kishimoto: At first, it was just a normal story about a ramen shop… Kobayashi: That's something you hear a lot about, but is it a joke? Kishimoto: Seriously, I seriously wanted to draw a ramen manga. Kobayashi: You seriously wanted to draw a ramen manga.

Kishimoto: I drew a story about a ramen owner and a boy who comes to eat there, and the ramen soup and noodles would be bland on their own, but when they are combined they become many times more delicious, and I used this as an analogy to life, creating a really spectacular, super-sensational story, but then the first editor in charge at the time said, "You're way off the mark".

Kobayashi: It certainly doesn't feel like it'd fit in Weekly Shonen Jump. Kishimoto: First, it was like, "You don't understand manga", so after that I wrote a story about an elementary school kid picking up some money and going on a detour… Kobayashi: What are you talking about? (everyone laughs)

Kishimoto: I was told that it was off, so I looked into it a bit. Well, I liked Dragon Ball, so I realized halfway through that I should draw something like Dragon Ball. It took quite a while, but I got there (Kobayashi laughs). And the ramen thing, which I thought was kind of lame, turned out to be surprisingly perfect for me, so I couldn't let it go. That's how the name Naruto came about.

Kobayashi: First thing is the Naruto name and that he loves ramen, Ichiraku ramen. Did you originally want to draw something about ninjas? Kishimoto: When I was doing the one-shot it was about monsters, and in that monster story it was originally a fox that turns into a human, and it was a mixed story between human and monster, but that deviated from that. Kobayashi: From the target? Kishimoto: It deviated from the target, and I quickly made it a human, redrawn it, and when I released it, it was approved.

Kobayashi: Indeed, we really did a lot of research, or rather, verification, but it seems like it's completely the opposite of the usual ninja stuff. Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: When you think about it, ninjas are depicted as being very extreme, right? This is the world of the shinobi, or rather, it's about not letting them do that, right? Kishimoto: Yes. Since there have been quite a few up until now, like Sanpei Shirata*... (Mangaka of Ninja Bugeicho, 1959; Sasuke, 1967; etc) Kobayashi: Yes.

Kishimoto: I thought that if I did the same thing, it probably wouldn't stand out, so I did the opposite.

Kobayashi: With blonde hair.

Kishimoto: Blonde hair. Not Japanese, but foreign looking. And rather than dying, how should I put it, they're more about saving than hiding. One time I got a fan letter asking "is this character a ninja?". Kobayashi: Was it a simple question from a child? Kishimoto: A simple question from a child, and then I was like, Ah! it got off track again. (Everyone laughs) Kobayashi: The serialization had already started.

Kishimoto: But there was nothing we could do about it so we just went ahead with the deviation, and my editor at the time said it was fine to go with it, that this little deviation was fine. Kobayashi: Actually, this isn't off. Kishimoto: This isn't off. Kobayashi: That's why manga is so difficult.

Kishimoto: It is difficult. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: Do you remember when the "dattebayo" line and things like that came about? Kishimoto: I was thinking about what a typical Jump manga protagonist would be like, and I thought that if a grandmother were to like a clumsy character, it might be well-received or liked. So, I thought of making him a bit awkward, like someone who can't speak properly or stumbles over his words, and adding a catchphrase like "Dattebayo" to make him endearing... Kobayashi: Slurring his words? Kishimoto: Slurring his words, I say. Kobayashi: You put in characters who were classmates, or people of the same generation, right? Did you think about that in detail? Kishimoto: No, I didn't actually intend for it to be like that, I just wanted the missions to be more detailed.

Kobayashi: I think I'll ask about that later. Kishimoto: Okay.

Kobayashi: There was a mission in Wave Country, right? Kishimoto: The Land of Waves exists, and this time the mission is in a different village where there’s a teacher and three subordinates. Then, some guys from a different team come out, and Kakashi's real identity is that he’s a rival to other teachers... Kobayashi: Kakashi had rivals outside (the village) too? Kishimoto: Yes, I talked with the editor about wanting to do it with that setting, but he said there’s no time to be messing around like that.

Kobayashi: Did he say something like, "There's no time to be dawdling around"? (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: He said to release everything at once and to release characters all at once with others too. But he said, "Let's do it, let's have a tournament." I don't have that kind of strength right now. I'll die if I do that. But then I said I'll do it. I said I'll do it even if it means I die. Kobayashi: That's what the Chunin Selection Exam. Kishimoto: That's how the Chunin Selection Exam came to be. Kobayashi: The result of being rushed Kishimoto: So, I still kind of wish I could have done that (the missions).

Kobayashi: Actually, I wanted to see a few more missions too.

Kishimoto: Right? we decided on the characters on the spot. Even while writing the manuscript, if we didn't have any ideas, it was tough for a newcomer to create dozens of characters all at once...

Kobayashi: Here comes the newcomer.

Kishimoto: So, I asked the editor to design them for me. (Kobayashi laughs) The editor suggested something like an old Jackie Chan movie, and something really strange came up, and that was Gai.

Kobayashi: It was Gai and Lee. I see. But when I was listening to the earlier conversation, I heard that there was a system like this in the Land of the Waves too, of course with an academy, and when I thought about Kakashi's rival appearing, I heard that maybe this Gai version was planned for there.

Kishimoto: That's right. I thought it would be better to have a rival… Kobayashi: It actually wasn't from Konoha. Kishimoto: but I thought there wasn't enough of them, We set it up so that there would be a rival in our village. We thought it would be better to have that kind of setting, so we made it happen within a year. Kobayashi: Right. In other words, the Chunin Exam and the Hidden Leaf battle with Gaara are two different things, but they're all correlated, and yet they keep moving forward.

Kishimoto: During the Chunin Exam selection test, we gained popularity. But even though we were gaining popularity, the editor in charge at the time said that if we just let it end with a regular victory, it would be too ordinary. It wasn't the right time for a tournament. Kobayashi: This is not the time to be dragging your feet. Bang. Kishimoto: They told me, "Come on, this character named Orochimaru is going to come out and wreck everything. He's going to destroy the tournament". I had worked hard to introduce so many characters. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: That's true. Kishimoto: I was having fun wondering who would win and things like that.

Kobayashi: Even for you, were you subtly wondering who the winner would be on social media?

Kishimoto: I was planning on making it Shikamaru.

Kobayashi: Were you planning on making Shikamaru?

Kishimoto: Yes. That's right.

Kobayashi: Shikamaru's fighting style got really good in the Chunin Selection Exam.

Kishimoto: I had decided that only Shikamaru would become a chunin.

Kobayashi: Yes, yes, yes. And that's exactly what happened.

Kishimoto: I just wrote "IQ 200," but I don't have an IQ of 200. (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: You digged your grave again. Just like with the Shadow Clone Jutsu. It would require someone with an IQ of 200 to write in such a way that they would think about other people with IQ 200, so it's certainly difficult.

Kishimoto: It's not that it's difficult, it's that is just impossible, isn't it? So I struggled with this, I really struggled.

Kobayashi: Let's keep moving the story along. No, in The Land of the Waves arc, we suddenly have the formidable enemy Zabuza.

Kishimoto: I think it would be better to show a strong ninja out of the blue, and then Kakaishi-sensei would get serious about it. I thought it would be easier to show Naruto and the other ninjas from the older generation in a real ninja battle...

Kobayashi: Growing towards that point.

Kishimoto: I thought it would be easy to understand that we were going to continue to do this, so I decided to show that first.

Kobayashi: But if you think about it, the settings that are introduced in the Land of Waves arc and continue up to the final chapter, for example, the Kekkei Genkai and the Sharingan come out one after another here, right? How far did you plan this out? Kishimoto: No. I think it would have been better to just go ahead and bluff it out here. Kobayashi: Were you bluffing from the beginning? Kishimoto: It seems like a bluff, so I didn't think about what would come next at all. Kobayashi: First, you just went ahead and created the framework. Kishimoto: That's right.

Kobayashi: So you're rushing ahead with the serialization while also thinking about it? Kishimoto: Yes, that's right.

Kobayashi: So you suddenly mentioned Sasuke's past, right? Kishimoto: He wanted to kill someone. Kobayashi: That there was someone he wanted to kill. Kishimoto: I was thinking that he'd have an older brother, and that he had done something bad. I had thought about that, but not much else… Kobayashi: It was quite vague… Kishimoto: That part was vague. Kobayashi: So maybe you just said that Itachi was just a bad guy?

Kishimoto: No, by the time Itachi was brought out I had already decided he was a good guy.

Kobayashi: There's circumstances that make Sasuke feel this way.

Kishimoto: At first, the Sharingan was supposed to be able to closely observe and copy the opponent's movements, but it gradually went in a different direction. Kobayashi: It's the first chapter in the history of world entertainment to be themed around eyeballs, and it went up to volume 72. Kishimoto: I never thought that the idea of the eye as a Dojutsu skill would be so useful. (Kobayashi laughs) The Sharingan is mentioned in a very old story called The Tale of the Hero Jiraiya, in which it is revealed that Jiraiya actually has the Sharingan.

Kobayashi: Jiraiya, that one. Kishimoto: The character has it, and it's often seen in kabuki and other performances. However, if Jiraiya were to use it, his character would become too prominent, so we decided to give it to the Uchiha clan instead. Kobayashi: And Kakashi's has them, so it's like he got the eyes because of some kind of grudge or connection. Kishimoto: That's right. Why does he have those eyes when he's not a part of the Uchiha clan? That's what we make into a mystery to keep the story going.

Kobayashi: So, Kakashi's Sharingan comes from the Uchiha clan. I see, so that's what it was, one of the major recoveries, a part of the mission. There are three main characters in this concept, right?

Kishimoto: Rin, Obito, and Kakashi

Kobayashi: The photo of Rin, Obito, and Kakashi came out pretty early, right? Like around the fourth chapter or so.

Kishimoto: I wonder if there are any photos of Kakashi. I'm thinking about this for now. When I get back, I'll have him be Naruto's dad.

Kobayashi: Ah, had it already been decided at this point that he would be Naruto's dad? Kishimoto: It had been decided. Kobayashi: Ah, this had been decided? Kishimoto: It had been decided, at that time. Kobayashi: Ah, is that so? Ah, had it also been decided that Obito would be the Uchiha? Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: It had been firmly decided, really. Kishimoto: That's… Kobayashi: That was about 16 chapters in.

Kishimoto: Yes, that's right. We decided on that part too. Initially, it's not so much that we decided that the Fourth Hokage, Minato, was Naruto's dad, but rather that we thought we had to reveal that Naruto's dad was the Fourth Hokage. So we properly created the Hokage Rock with the Fourth Hokage's face, and originally, it was a dog's face, so the Fourth Hokage had a dog's face. Kobayashi: Dog? Dog as in dog? Kishimoto: Dog as in dog.Dog Dog. Well, there's that character with fangs, Kiba, right? So if there's a human with fangs, then why not have a dog become Hokage too, right? Kobayashi: It was a dog? Kishimoto: It was a dog. Kishimoto: Yahagi-san, editor Yahagi-san. Kobayashi: The person in charge?

Kishimoto: Yes, he told me I was off the mark again when I got there. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: You'd finally managed to fix the misalignment, and now it's off again? Kishimoto: So, I decided to make him the protagonist's father. So it was decided on the first playthrough, sort of speak. Kobayashi: I see. So you were excited about that part beforehand. But, you know, with Kakashi, did you have some kind of premonition that he'd become popular? Kishimoto: Not at all. Kobayashi: Eh, speaking of Kakashi, isn't he the most popular character? Kishimoto: That's right. I had no idea why a guy like that would become so popular.

Kobayashi: Kishimoto-sensei, that's off the mark. (Everyone laughs) Kakashi is so cool, he's gonna be popular. Kishimoto: Why can you only see with one eye? (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: Jiraiya is popular too, isn't he? Kishimoto: Jiraiya was really popular too. Kobayashi: I guess it's just that somewhere, are there any characters who are perverts at heart that become popular? Kishimoto: That's true.

Kobayashi: There's a "make out paradise" between those two. Kishimoto: That's why the characters I thought were cool and would be popular didn't become popular at all. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: Is there anyone else? This guy? Kishimoto: I drew Sai thinking he'd be popular. Kobayashi: Did Sai not become that popular as a character? Kishimoto: No, I also drew a character called Kimimaro thinking he'd be popular, but he pulls out his bones and turns them into swords and he seemed to be a little popular at some point, but the minute he pulled out his backbone he lost popularity.

Kobayashi: Did they have an allergic reaction? Women and such were like, "Wow, this guy is like this." What about Sakura-chan? Kishimoto: I drew Sakura because I thought she was cute. It's not that she's a girl's true nature, but I drew her realistically. Kobayashi: Her inner thoughts came first. Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: Like appearing in a TV show. (Like the confessionals of reality tv show) Kishimoto: I thought she'd be popular with girls, but it seems like they just didn't like her. Kobayashi: Don't like her? Was there a lot of people who disliked Sakura?

Kishimoto: Right. They said that little kids hate her, so we tried a lot of things, but they just backfired. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: They backfired. I'm sorry. It's a painful memory. Kishimoto: It's a painful memory. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: You didn't intend to make them fall in love with her like that, but that's how it is. But you know, we had a little meeting about why only Sakura is like that, and it turns out that the Haruno clan isn't depicted, or rather, it was in the movie, but not in the original work. However, not that far ahead; once the recognition system is established, the parents of each clan and their relatives are depicted, and they participate in battles. So, what's up with the Haruno clan? Why aren't they depicted? She's only one girl from an ordinary family, or rather, a girl without any struggles. Kishimoto: The truth is that Sakura wasn't popular, so even if we expanded on that... (Everyone laughs) Kobayashi: So the truth is because she isn't popular you wouldn't expand on it. Kishimoto: Right. (Everyone laughs harder)

Kobayashi: But once it's out you can't backtrack on it, right? The cover of volume 4, and the cover of chapter 4 already have the details of each summoning. Kishimoto: That's right, in chapter 4. Kobayashi: And wasn't it this? If it's already out here, we can't take it down now, right? Kishimoto: That's right. We have no choice but to keep going, so it was pretty much decided by this point that those three, Jiraiya, Orochimaru and Tsunade, would each become a mentor. Kobayashi: It's already being passed down.

Kishimoto: I drew this cover while looking at the faces of Hollywood actresses. Kobayashi: So you were trying to draw what is commonly called a beautiful person? Kishimoto: Yes. I was thinking of drawing a cute girl. I was sketching and so on. Naruto and Sasuke, I can just draw them quickly, but for this character [Sakura], I had to look at reference materials while drawing. Kobayashi: You were very careful about that, weren't you, sensei? Kishimoto: I was extremely careful. Kobayashi: If you could say it like that, you were pushing it. In other words.

Kishimoto: That's right. We were pushing her so hard that it didn't get through to her at all. Only Hinata kept getting more and more popular. I didn't draw Hinata much, and like Sakura, she wasn't doing much either, but her popularity was skyrocketing, so I thought maybe I should make her the heroine. I thought maybe I should make her closer to heroine status. That's why she has a bit of a standout moment at the end.

Kobayashi: I see, it feels like all the characters have been introduced, but the second part was amazing too. First, there was the mission to rescue the Kazekage from the Sand Village, the Tenchi Bridge reconnaissance mission, then the battle between Team 10 and Hidan and Kakuzu, Sasuke's formation of Hebi, Jiraiya vs. Pain, Sasuke vs. Itachi, Hebi becoming Taka, Pain's death, the Five Kage Summit, the Fourth Great Ninja War, Naruto vs. Sasuke, and then the epilogue. So, was there a specific reason for structuring it into two parts?

Kishimoto: That's right, in some parts, Naruto and the others are, well, let's say, weak, right? Kobayashi: That's right. Kishimoto: As expected because they're genins, the Akatsuki, which is like a collective of powerful yet disenfranchised enemies. Kobayashi: Akatsuki. Kishimoto: That's right, they're genin and the Akatsuki are a strong enemy that's like a collection of disenfranchised people but even the jonin can't do anything about them. Kobayashi: It's like even jonin can't catch them.

Kishimoto: So this is bad and for now I cut it and made them grow up all at once. I also wanted to change the clothes and so on, it's hard to draw this weird thing on the left shoulder, it's small, or rather the fluffy thing in around his neck, it hides his face when he lifts his shoulders or makes any movement.

Kobayashi: It was a bit wimpy when he was a kid. When he was a boy, it was wimpy and it got in the way when he was performing action. Even though it's neat like this, it still keeps you warm.

Kishimoto: I thought it doesn't look like a top garment if his neck isn't covered. I also added this headband here so that it flutters a bit and stands out when he performs action.

Kobayashi: Well, as we talked about Akatsuki earlier, Akatsuki was really exciting. As a reader, when all the silhouettes of the characters suddenly appeared, it was just too much. Itachi, Kisame, Pain, Konan, Sasori, Deidara, Hidan, Kakuzu, Tobi, Zetsu. My favorites were Hidan and Kakuzu. Kishimoto: Ah, that's the same for me. Kobayashi: Oh, really? Kishimoto: I like Hidan the best too. Kobayashi: I like Hidan the best too! It's like, this is what dangerous evil is, and I think it would be great if this kind of thing could be applied. I really, really like it. And the fact that two immortals are immortal for different reasons is also really interesting to me.

Kishimoto: That's right. At that time, I actually quite liked how the abilities were portrayed, so things like Hidan stabbing himself with the kunai and the feelings behind it. Kobayashi: This scene is great, he pierces himself and that causes damage to Asuma. Team 10 was great. Sensei previously said it was hard, but from here on it becomes a battle of IQ 200s, right? Kishimoto: With Shikamaru in it, it's a bit tough. Kobayashi: No, but this cigarette scene is really different from previous Naruto, it's a bit of a man's world, a grown man's worldview, you know? Kishimoto: It's surprisingly brutal, with heads chopped off and stuff.

Kobayashi: Yes, there was a scene where his head gets chopped off. Kishimoto: They said that couldn't be done in the anime. Kobayashi: I said that one line, but it made me a bit worried. Is this okay in today's world? Kishimoto: Well first, after being told that it couldn't be done, there was a discussion about changing it because Shikamaru smoking was also a no-go, but the editor said not to worry about it and just go ahead and do it. However, the higher-ups would always check with the editor each time, saying things like, "Isn't this a bit too much? It's a shonen magazine after all." Kobayashi: Would we be able to show this scene now?

Kishimoto: Add this here. Kobayashi: Add this and then cut the left and right sides. Kishimoto: It looks like it's peeking out. (Kobayahi laughs) Kobayashi: It's amazing, isn't it? This head rolls around and suddenly starts talking again. Kishimoto: I tried to hide the cross sections as much as possible. Kobayashi: I see, the cross-section is beautifully concealed. This lighter texture is also quite nice, isn't it? I think many people have asked you about this, but is Hidan still down below?

Kishimoto: Yes, so I think I could have dug him up and have him join the battle if I wanted to, but when it comes out, I still get carried away and have to hide all the cross-sections, so it would be tough. Kobayashi: I couldn't stand it if it became any more troublesome to draw, but Shikamaru's smoke stings my eyes. It was a clean story right up to the point where he just throws it away at the end, and yet the hard-boiled sense is quite rare even for Jump. Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: Did Sensei was always into that kind of world? Kishimoto: Surprisingly, I actually like those kinds of movies and used to watch them a lot, so I ended up doing everything I wanted to do in a shonen magazine, even though it wasn't really appropriate.

Kobayashi: Well, Akatsuki isn't just an organization, it's got all sorts of intertwined intentions, some that even the other people don't know about. Did you give that a lot of thought? Kishimoto: There's places like that. Kobayashi: Around here? Kishimoto: In the real world, companies have started hiring mercenaries to engage in private wars, so I wanted to explore that. Kobayashi: Like a professional group. Kishimoto: I thought that if we introduced a leader who could bring everyone together, it would bring out a sense of charisma. So, I considered developing the character's profile with that in mind. Pain. Kobayashi: That's Pain. When he first appeared, he said he was conquering the world on his back. That scene was difficult, wasn't it?

Kishimoto: It was hard. Kobayashi: It's a scene looking down on the world. Kishimoto: That was hard to draw. Kobayashi: It really seemed like sensei was pushing himself too hard, he drew a lot of scenery seen from above the city. Kishimoto: I draw the rough draft to a certain extent, but my assistants do the inking and stuff, so I leave that to them. Kobayashi: This is another scene looking down at a different city, but did the assistant only do the inking, and the basic drawing is done by you, right? Kishimoto: I did the rough draft.

Kobayashi: Wow, this is amazing. Kishimoto: If it's not like that, the layout and feel of that time can't really be conveyed just by talking about it. Kobayashi: Indeed, the world view of this village is thoroughly filled with such elements. Kishimoto: It was the same with Pain. Kobayashi: This is it, right? The sensei wrote it, what was it called, the handkerchief? Kishimoto: This is that Bobobobobobobobobo manga. (Manga serialized from 2001-2005) Kobayashi: Oh, that's right, now that I think about it, the deadline is a week, right? Kishimoto: Yes, that's right. You only have about three days to draw.

Kobayashi: Three days. You can spare about three days. Since we're talking about illustrations, I would like to ask you a bit about that kind of artwork. You have a unique composition style, don't you? This is a fisheye perspective, right? It's a view of Deidara from above. And again, a fisheye perspective from above. Kishimoto: I quite like fisheye views from above. Kobayashi: "I like fisheye views from above" is like a tongue twister. Kishimoto: I really liked the feeling that the characters were standing on the ground, and Akira was also very precise about that.

Kobayashi: By Otomo-sensei. Kishimoto: I look at various pictures and draw them by changing the depth of the fisheye lens, like Otomo-sensei's fisheye. Kobayashi: Look at this cover of Chouji, the photographer left during the shoot. He said, "Please wait a moment." This is the kind of composition you see in Chihuahua photo books, right? This camera is really only used for skateboarding PVs and Funkiller AVs. Kishimoto: There's no way I would study while watching AV down here. That's not happening. Kobayashi: It's more like a sunview. Kishimoto: That's the image I had in mind…

Kobayashi: Haku, right? Kishimoto: Yes. The "bang" when someone is punched is a common cinematic technique known as double action. For example, when Jackie Chan punches an enemy, the camera slightly pulls back and then zooms in again, making the punch stand out. I wanted to create an image like that in this manga. Kobayashi: We were looking for something like this, showing the same scene from three different angles, and I had a question, in Naruto, even when he uses his signature move, there isn't a name for it at that moment, but his face isn't shown when he lands the move. Is this intentional? Kishimoto: I thought it would be cooler if his face was not shown.

Kobayashi: How is that cool? Kishimoto: If the face isn't in the picture, the attention goes to the body, right? To the back and the body. That way it feels like the body is speaking or expressing itself, but if you show face, the power of the face is so strong that it takes over, or rather, becomes the focal point of the scene. Kobayashi: Rather than talking about the expressions in this scene, you want people to just look at the dynamism and things like that. Kishimoto: That's why I actually have to draw faces in decisive scenes. Kobayashi: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I noticed that a lot, like when the decisive scene doesn't show the face, it's like a deliberate act, right? There were also scenes where the battle progresses from both sides, like in Sasuke vs. Naruto. Kishimoto: This is unique to manga, so it's not shown like a movie on a timeline, and you can look at either side from above and if you just look from above, you can see both at once. This is a manga-like presentation that I came up with, so I thought I'd go with that. It's more about matching or being the same... Kobayashi: Normally you have to read it like this, so now you can read it like this. Kishimoto: That kind of feeling. I tried to keep the details as simple as possible so that it's easy to read. I wanted it to be simple, so I didn't focus too much on the details.

Kobayashi: This is an incredibly complicated panel. Are you even listening? (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: Yes, this area is… Kobayashi: To begin with, we abandoned the interrogation, and now it's a huge mess. So, what is this supposed to be? Kishimoto: I deliberately made it look this cluttered, so that you don't know where to look… Kobayashi: It was a chaotic battle. It was happening at an incredible speed. Kishimoto: I wanted to create something like in movies where the action is so fast that you can't tell what's happening.

Kobayashi: Like directing a production? Kishimoto: That's exactly it. Kobayashi: You were saying you'd put it out this next time but it was difficult to put out. You were trying to make it as simple as possible, so I think it's fine to put out this one. Well, the time is almost up, so I'll have to rush through this. Was the Great Ninja War really difficult? Kishimoto: It was difficult. They said "you will be experiencing wars from now on". By that point, it had been decided to go to war. I was trying to get him to experience war once and then face it, so he couldn't escape, or rather... Kobayashi: Well, I guess it's inevitable. Kishimoto: I thought so.

Kobayashi: It's like everything that has happened so far has come to light in these three wars, right? Kishimoto: There were a lot of things I hadn't been able to do before, but I wanted to tie everything together there, so I did that. So I did a lot of battles between old men, which is unimportant, like Hanzo and Mifune. And I did something that shouldn't be done in a boys' magazine, which was to have those old men clash in the first chapter of the volume. Kobayashi: A boys' magazine that violates morals. Kishimoto: The old man was getting a lot of heat in a boys' magazine.. Kobayashi: An old man's duel. Kishimoto: That's something you'd expect from Torishima-san (Editor in chief of Shonen Jump and editor of Akira Toriyama, author of Dragon Ball) Kobayashi: From Mashirito-san (Anagram of Torishima) Kishimoto: From Mashirito-san. Torishima-san asked me what I was doing and told me to bring out Naruto right away and that I didn't need the old men and I got scolded.

Kobayashi: But, sensei, please listen, is this the fight that the director in charge thought was the best about? Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: Hanzo vs. Mifune. Kishimoto: That's nice to hear. Kobayashi: I think this is great. It's something that people who don't give up on things can achieve. As they fight, they remember things from the past.

Kishimoto: There's a seppuku scene, and I wanted to depict that. I'm gradually becoming an old man, so I feel like I want to depict that kind of seriousness. Kobayashi: How was it? How popular was Mifune in the boy's fantasy genre? Kishimoto: Not at all. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: No, it's cool, but you know, there was a setting where they branched out from samurai and grew up to become ninjas, and then they started fighting like ninjas. Kishimoto: It's not that. Kobayashi: It's not that because it's that samurai are samurai because they persevere. Kishimoto: They don't run away. Kobayashi: It's a well-portrayed scene, but it's a bit too much for shonen. Kishimoto: It was like "old men are fighting, I wish it would end quickly, I wish the main character would appear soon". (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: My favorite character in that match was the second Mizukage, I think? He kept saying his own weaknesses while fighting, like "Hurry up and defeat me" or "Am I strong?" I really liked this character. Kishimoto: Ah, that's right. Kobayashi: This one is still a bit old-fashioned for me, though. Kishimoto: This character was surprisingly popular. Kobayashi: It was great, wasn't it? He kept talking and revealing his weak points, defeating his opponents one after another, while telling them to defeat him quickly. Kishimoto: I thought it was kind of interesting.

Kobayashi: Edo Tensei was really difficult, wasn't it? Kishimoto: Yes, well, ever since the Pain arc, Naruto has been unable to just defeat, beat, and kill people to settle things. Instead, they end with discussions. It's something you shouldn't really do in a shonen manga, so from then on, when he fights, he considers who he is up against and what kind of person they are. Kobayashi: Like cultivated clones. Kishimoto: Because it was something that fundamentally doesn't exist as a living being, it couldn't be defeated.

Kobayashi: Did you have the fighting puppets decided on exactly what they would be? So that's why Edo Tensei meant that Jiraiya, Hidan who was buried and Konan who was scattered didn't appear, right? Kishimoto: I mean, I didn't want to bring back Jiraiya. Kobayashi: Well, he was a good character and had a good way of dying. Kishimoto: That's right. I couldn't write a better death than that one and in a sense, with Jiraiya dying, Naruto understood Sasuke's feelings about how it feels when someone important to you dies. If he were to come back, it would be a bit difficult to handle that. Also, I wanted to use Madara as a hook, so that's pretty much everything.

Kobayashi: I see, isn't that a bit of a complicated Rinne Tensei no Jutsu? Madara himself is quite complicated as well. Kishimoto: He is resurrected through Rinne Tensei and Edo Tensei, so it's a bit complicated how it works. Kobayashi: The forbidden technique of Edo Tensei, you see, with the element of Orochimaru, this brings out the connection with Kabuto in the battle. Throughout this, there has been a persistent push from Mr. Kishimoto and the main cast, and then there was the incident where Sakura received a love letter. Kishimoto: This is... a mislead story, but why did I put it here? It's because if the anime continues with the war, it will soon catch up with the manga. So, I created a gap here and then moved on to the next part.

Kobayashi: There was some outrageous fortune-telling involved in this love letter incident, wasn't there? Kishimoto: Did you also wonder what I was writing? (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: So, it's called a love letter, huh? I was wondering what I was writing. Wow, I got to hear some good behind-the-scenes stories. When you think about it, there were a lot of casualties, but why did Neji have to die in the war among the well-known characters? Kishimoto: Well, I had decided on Hinata as the heroine, so it was quite some time ago… Kobayashi: Ultimately Kishimoto: So, I wanted elements that would bring Naruto and Hinata closer together. There was a scene during the Pain fight where Hinata came out and said something, but this time, Naruto consciously says he's happy to have Hinata by his side. So, there was that aspect, and that's why Neji, well, let's just say...

Kobayashi: Well, it was the trigger. Kishimoto: Yes, well, it was like he was playing the role of Cupid, so I was a bit nervous about that. And then we basically decided on the name Boruto for their son. Kobayashi: Is that so? Kishimoto: Once we decided on it, Boruto was also known as Neji (they both mean screw), so the idea was to have him take on the name of the uncle who assisted Cupid… Kobayashi: Well, when I saw it, I cried a little. Kishimoto: We decided on Neji. Kobayashi: Is that how it turned out? Kishimoto: So from now on, for example, this might be a bit harsh, but if I were to write a manga about Boruto, then the scenes with Neji would be important.

Kobayashi: Is it okay if I play this now? Is it alright if I go ahead with this?

Kishimoto: it's alright.

Kobayashi: Thank you. Well, this match is really amazing, so let's move on to the final battle, Naruto vs. Sasuke. I haven't been able to hear much about Sasuke until now, though.

Kishimoto: They start off as rivals and then fight at the end as rivals to close it out. Kobayashi: What's that place called? Kishimoto: Valley of the End.

Kobayashi: Valley of the End. It took quite a while to draw out this ending, didn't it? It's been a long time since Sasuke left, hasn't it?

Kishimoto: Yes, it has been quite a long time since Sasuke flew away.

Kobayashi: That one is definitely longer.

Kishimoto: Sasuke was sulking the whole time.

Kobayashi: He's been sulking the whole time, hasn't he?

Kishimoto: While writing, I was like, "Who is this guy?" (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: Eh, did you hate Sasuke? Kishimoto: No, there were a few parts where I was a bit more annoyed. But I think I understand what Sasuke does… Kobayashi: Well, I understand why Sasuke does what he does. Kishimoto: I wanted people to understand that, so I wrote it with quite a bit of emphasis, but surprisingly, I wasn't capturing Sasuke's character expressions well. I often had to tell my editor, "This isn't right; this doesn't look like Sasuke"... Kobayashi: Isn't this part of the face a little different? Kishimoto: It took a lot of fixing.

Kobayashi: Wow, so you were quite tormented throughout the serialization. Kishimoto: That's right, I was pretty much tormented by Sakura and Sasuke. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: So the journey up to volume 72 was one in which you were tormented by two out of the three main characters. Kishimoto: Yes, it was long and painful. Kobayashi: It was difficult. Kishimoto: And Kakashi is Kakashi, but surprisingly, since he only has one eye, it's difficult to convey expressions, ah. Kobayashi: I see, so his expressions are halved? Kishimoto: That's right, and that's why it was so difficult.

Kobayashi: Isn't this a cycle of hatred? We're talking about breaking the cycle of hatred, but we're actually creating more hatred, aren't we? (Kishimoto laughs)

Kishimoto: Yeah, that's right. So I was thinking about how to do it, and in the end, it really turned into a battle between men. I didn't want to resolve it with ninjutsu or anything like that. I wanted a straightforward fistfight. Gradually running out of strength and continuing to fight is, after all, the spirit of Jump. I thought, "Come on, just pull through," but somehow, it worked out.

Kobayashi: They say both of their right arms are blown off.

Kishimoto: Naruto being right-handed and Sasuke being left-handed, so he loses his left hand. In Ninjutsu, there is a tradition called Ninja Kumite where when two friends fight, they put one hand forward as a sign of reconciliation...

Kobayashi: It was a memorable scene.

Kishimoto: In the end, it seems like reconciliation is impossible or rather they're unable to due to the loss of their hands. I felt that these two didn't want to simply reconcile, nor could they, so it didn't seem like the right fit. The concept of reconciliation was similar to the conflict between Indra and Ashura, who were reincarnated. The hands of Madara and Hashirama overlapping are the representation of the symbolized reconciliation.

Kobayashi: I see. Kishimoto: So, I expressed it this way, with the two of them above, even though they don't have hands but still. Kobayashi: Well, sensei's character continued to suffer, but it's a great final scene. You know, these two really brought it about. Kishimoto: We've finally made it this far. That scene has been something I've wanted to draw for a long time, and it was a scene I hinted at at the end of part one, so I'm really glad to finally be able to draw it. Kobayashi: Yes, it's a relief, the daimyo are safe. This daimyo, when you look at him like this, he looks a bit like me. Kishimoto: The cat, that's the cat I have.

Kobayashi: Did it make an appearance? Is it okay to touch on this bit? I was quite moved by this cheer battle. It was kind of… Kishimoto: More like comrades… Kobayashi: More like comrades… I suppose the two of them are comrades, but I feel like I'm a comrade too. In the video, the three of us were standing. Me, Oda-sensei, and Kishimoto-sensei, the three of us were standing together. (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: Well, let's do that. Kobayashi: So you have some thoughts about it? Kishimoto: I think everyone has their own things going on, you know, it's just like…

Kobayashi: It's clearly written here, isn't it? Friends and rivals. A serialization that we did together for 15 years. Kishimoto: I'm grateful. I feel the same way and I want to convey those feelings to Oda-san. Kobayashi: It's not the first time I've seen something like this, but everyone has a valuable message for sensei. Kishimoto: That surprised me. Kobayashi: You didn't hear about it in the volume? Kishimoto: I wasn't informed about it. Kobayashi: That shows that he was an incredible sensei who left behind some amazing works, and therefore a very precious teacher. Kishimoto: Thank you.

Kobayashi: Well, there have been some announcements, like a new generation project. Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: Do you have any plans like that for your next work? Kishimoto: Yes, you're thinking about what you want your next work to be Kobayashi: Their silhouettes are shown, but there is also a new generation project. Kishimoto: The fact that the children have appeared up to this point means that that's what it means, and that I want to depict them. Kobayashi: Seriously? Kishimoto: Naruto also makes a few appearances, but I think that Orochimaru, who didn't appear in the final episode, and Kabuto and Karin are connected, and once it becomes clear that there's a change of generation, then it'll be over.

Kobayashi: Well, there are things that have been announced, like the new generation project and so on.

Kishimoto: That's right.

Kobayashi: Do you have any plans like that for your next work? Kishimoto: Yes, I'm thinking about what I want to do with my next work. Kobayashi: The silhouette is reflected but it's also a new generation project. Kishimoto: The fact that we've included children up to this point means that that's what I want to depict.

Kobayashi: Seriously?

Kishimoto: Naruto will also make a brief appearance, but I think it will be complete once the connections with characters like Orochimaru, Kabuto, and Karin, who didn't appear in the final episode, clearly show a generational shift.

Kobayashi: Yeah, that's good. I was just thinking about Karin earlier. When I saw Karin's abilities, I honestly thought, "Wow, the teacher must be really stressed," but was that the hardest time for you? (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: It was difficult. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: I think you had a lot of free time. Kishimoto: That's right. I was really lucky, but that was a really bad thing. Kobayashi: It's work that requires you to sit down, after all. It's a job that you can't do without sitting down. Kishimoto: That was painful. I think it was both the mental and physical aspects that built up a lot of stress.

Kobayashi: It's a sitting job, after all. It's a job that can't be done unless you sit.

Kishimoto: It was painful. Probably both the mental and physical aspects were affecting me, and I was quite stressed.

Kobayashi: Sir, it seems you've acquired some special abilities. In this world, I have high hopes that we might be able to see such things. Do you have any thoughts about getting something entirely new from Kishimoto-sensei in the next world?

Kishimoto: Well, of course, I thought about taking a break, but I just can't seem to settle down. So I called in an assistant and we talked together, and I guess I'll ask him to help me with some work and we talked about it.

Kobayashi: Is that so? So it's like it's actually moving around a bit. Kishimoto: That's right, so I want it to be like this, and like this, and with this setting and the main character is like this. Kobayashi: What's the story about? Kishimoto: That's a total secret.

Kobayashi: Well, right.

Kishimoto: It's a bit of a secret.

Kobayashi: It's a bit of a secret, isn't it? Is it wrong to ask about this sort of thing? For example, will it be in Jump?

Kishimoto: Weekly Jump.

Kobayashi: Weekly Shōnen Jump, etc.?

Kishimoto: Well, I want to, but only if I have the stamina.

Kobayashi: There's also G, you know.

Kishimoto: First, the surgery. (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: Ah, yes. That's the best. You should definitely be able to find more time than before. First, please take it easy, really. I know there are many things that make it hard to relax. So, let's talk about the highlights of the movie at the end. Please make sure to mention them here.

Kishimoto: I thought it was something I'd never done before, and if I was going to do it anyway, I should try a theme that hadn't been done in the main story or the original work, or something like that, so I thought it would seem new and interesting, and so I embarked on the adventure of trying my hand at a romance.

Kobayashi: It was more like a straightforward romance than an adventure. I got to see it, and actually, there's a work here that was written after the serialization ended. It's a gorgeous two-page one-shot.

Kishimoto: It took a while, so please check out those two pages. Kobayashi: Everyone please watch the movie too.

Kishimoto: I want you to watch this. Looking at this, well, I don't know if I should say it, but there are parts that were lacking in the manga that might still be completed, so I wanted to do it with Hinata.

Kobayashi: Please take a look, everyone. So, is this Naruto 10, which means it's cloe to the new year? Haven't they? Is this coming out next year?

Kishimoto: Yes, I think this will be quite moving next year.

Kobayashi: Will we also be able to see the colored illustrations by sensei?

Kishimoto: Yes, you can see it there. I haven't shown you my old setting materials and such.

Kobayashi: You were hiding it a bit today, huh? Well, I guess that's over there, over there, right?

Kishimoto: No, no, no, that's not the case. I just had a few notes lying around.

Kobayashi: Earlier, during the notebook time, it didn't come out easily.

Kishimoto: No, no, no, it's not good at all.

For some reason, Kishimoto's demonstration and whatever comment he and Kobayashi were making were muted in the video linked, sorry about that.

#kishimoto interview #Naruto archive #Naruto translation #the most challenging project I've done so far #might correct some things later but rn idgaf anymore

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