Burnt Aspiration

20+ | ind.| semi-sel.| multi-muse.

[hatredcurse]

"No man chooses evil because he is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks."

Rules | Muses — written by Nik

[asparkleofmuses]

She smiled more naturally as she craddled his hands into hers, even though Sasuke's were bigger. Then she channelled chakra to them, a soft green glow settling over both of their hands, cool and soothing, until his hands were completely healed.

Once she was satisfied, Sakura retracted her hands. "That should be more comfortable now"

[hatredcurse]

Heat churned viciously down his shoulders and out through his fingertips. Grounding, transient chakra warred with his razing flame ( fire devouring all which supplied the Earth and lived merrily within ), rooting tranquility into the sinew of his being until the ghostly pallor of his skin returned. As much as it could, anyways. Scars of the past remain, but they were markers of failures and achievements long before his recent agitations.

" Thank you. " His hands retreat back into the comfort of his sleeves. " Lately, I feel almost dependent on your charity. "

[motherofsharingan]

She let out a soft snort as his hair effortlessly goes back to how it was. As if she’s never touched it to begin with. His hair always had been stubborn that way. It was a bit funny.

Mikoto watched as Sasuke poured her a cup instead. She glanced at him, then the tea, and back at him. She murmured a “thank you” then took a sip of her tea. Delicious.

She went back to looking at him. Watching him. Her face softened, and a hand reached out to touch his cheek. “I won’t ever lose you, will I?”

[hatredcurse]

Still as stone, maternal touch grazes over the fair, chiseled cheekbones of Sasuke's face. The muscles in his arms rack and twitch helplessly to the stimuli, fighting the instinct to fleet from it; undeserving, he was.

" I can't promise anything, " he groused, knowing it is nothing she wanted to hear, but he wasn't one for lying," I'm here—— for now. "

He couldn't even grant her the courtesy of forcing a smile, either, just delivering the same sullen look worn by only him.

[hatredcurse]

(I'll be cheeky here. And have the audacity) "Sadao..?" @kagami--uchiha asked quietly, entering the room they both stayed in while out on a fetching mission, that Tobirama had sent them on. Carefully he handled two big platters of food, setting one down on the free spot on the table, right Infront of the Senju. He himself sat down by the window, his gaze remained quietly on his food for a while. The Uchiha had pursed his lips for a moment, his chopsticks pushing the soggy vegetables from one side to he other. ".. What if-.. no rather.. do you think the possibility of a.. planned ambush is a possibility?" Kagami knew something. But he wasn't sure how openly he could talk.

Seated aloft his spot at the table's edge, Sadao sat bemused at the food offered to him. Anti-septic clung to his fingers and the accent of cadavers fouled his tongue, diminishing the promise of a fulfilling meal to balm his low mood. But, he was never an ungrateful man, so he ate dispassionately all the dishes catered to him.

" From where? By who? " The Senju's glacial stare remains pinned to his rice, already calculating in the same irritating way his predecessor oft did. There lived no blood ties between them, yet the visage is a striking congruence.

[hatredcurse]

cont. — @motherofsharingan

Sasuke shakes his head, chiefly undoing all the easy work his mother performed in fixing his unruly, stubborn hair. " No. No need. " Instead, he fulfills his role as elder now, grasping the teapot at the handle and pouring a short cup for her in return.

" Drink. "

[hatredcurse]

cont. — @leaf-ravens

Meeting the Nara with silence, the Uchiha draws a long sip from his tea before choosing to reply, " I fair better than I appear. "

[hatredcurse]

cont. — @asparkleofmuses

He is placated by wariness at first, dismissing his wounds just as he were Sakura's concern. " They are fine, " he said, musing over his reflection before the soft guidance of wind carries his abused hands forward into hers.

[hatredcurse]

He is nested over a worn zabuton, warming a short clay cup of black tea between battle-bruised fingers.

[hatredcurse]

They're not even subtle about it.

[hatredcurse]

knowing your writing partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier !

THE BASICS

Name : Nik Pronouns : She/they (or, any really, I do not care) Sexuality : Lesbian Taken or single : Single

THREE FACTS

I'm an artist on the side — my primary job is an engineer.

I almost committed to a life in a convent. (No, I am not religious).

I used to be in a cosplay idol group.

EXPERIENCE

How long? (months/years) :

At least 13-14 years now.

Platforms you've used :

RPGuild, various chatrooms/forums, Sky.pe, Tum.blr, Disc.ord, etc.

Best experience :

I've been roleplaying for a long time and find it unfair to decide on any one experience among the many that have passed through my hands. I will say I do treasure all that have evolved more than RP partners and have become close friends of mine.

MUSE PREFERENCES

Female or Male :

No preference between genders. I have plenty of genderless and intersex muses across fandoms to boot.

Fluff, Angst, or Smut :

I am not actually good at writing romance too well. At least, not to a standard I consider intimate and readable ( ? ). I can write all three, I am better at angst, and my smut is passable. I wouldn't expect too much substance with my fluff.

Plots or Meme :

I can roleplay on the fly/off memes without any plotting beforehand, however I am accommodating to those who prefer direction with dynamics and scenarios.

Long or Short Replies :

Both are fine. I tend to prefer novella length as I enjoy inserting setting along with monologue into my text, but I will usually match my partner as I do not want to cause burn out / have people turn away because they find it difficult to reply to me.

Best Time To Write :

I can write whenever. Sometimes I write at work whenever I need a mental break, but more often I usually write around 1-4AM.

Are You Like Your Muse(s) :

I don't know. My demeanor can be traced in Sasu.ke or Tobi.rama, I suppose, but I think that is a product of me getting older and tired, lmao. All muses are treated as plot devices, I seldom insert any relatability between me or them.

TAG'DTH

Tagged By : @multlfarlous (Thank you) Tagging: You, if you want it.

[vestatsk]

[hatredcurse]

Hello. I've have minor surgery yesterday (along with dealing with the cause of it for the last week or so) and I'm still in recovery for that. That is to say, my replies will still be a slow crawl, but I will try to get to all known active drafts. If you'd like to plot or discuss anything, you're welcome to my DMs.

[bakisensei]

Each  trip  to  the  Leaf  was  longer  than  the  last.  Effort,  on  their  part—to  soften  the  ties.  Suna  had  little  in  the  way  of  creature  comforts  to  offer  anyone  from  the  Leaf,  at  least  for  now.  This  last  visit  was  used,  in  part,  to  discuss  importing  a  new  water  supply  between  the  villages:  underground  pipes  and  other  such  things  Baki  had  no  real  understanding  of.  Sunagakure  was  full  of  bricklayers,  though.  They  could  easily  build  whatever  was  needed.  Overseeing  it  would  be  his  job,  until  Gaara  came  of  age  and  took  over  the  role  of  Kage—but  that  was  still  some  years  away.

ᯤ      ☼         NINJA      ID      :  @hatredcurse  ᵎ    ⤷ starter call !!

Something  Baki  was  quietly  grateful  for:  these  few  years  in-between,  where  Gaara  might  be  allowed  some  semblance  of  normalcy,  before  the  weight  of  the  title  settled  fully  onto  his  shoulders.

Before  taking  his  proper  leave  of  the  village,  he  found  himself  drawn  back  to  the  headstone  for  those  fallen  in  the  failed  invasion.  Call  it  sympathy.

[  Call  it  guilt.  ]

This  time,  however,  the  stone  was  already  listening  to  other  prayers.  A  young  woman—one  Baki  didn’t  recognize.  Then  again,  many  faces  in  this  village  blurred  together.

“Forgive  me,”  he  said  softly.  “I  didn’t  mean  to  interrupt.”

[hatredcurse]

Silence gathered at her heels; the passing whispers of the tumultuous world seem to slip by. Each passing moment was another memory away from the travesty. Yugao did not need to linger here, for ghosts did not lumber around awaiting for her facsimile presence. None, no one, to greet her warmly as she stood at the bay of Styx, waiting for warm smiles to bring her home.

For a time, she was distracted in a current of useless thought before a subtle, rocky flare of chakra sifts into the sand between them. She didn't lift her head, choosing to remain bowed before methodical engravings, preferring their company to a stranger's.

" You are forgiven. " For a woman of visible strength, her sibilant, youthful voice betrays her. All soldiers were so young after all, who's to say where she lived on the timeline of requirements.

Another leave-rattling breeze wishes between them, insisting Yugao turn from her mourning to address whoever seem to linger. It would be a proper thing to do, the dead whispered in a twirl around her.

" Suna, " she took in the details with a passing glance," you're with the envoy, aren't you? "

[hatredcurse]

With some irony, for the ~5 years I've had this blog, I haven't had a main Naruto for Sasuke to interact much with.

[whydoesthecxgedbirdsing]

Sasuke is a hover somewhere behind Neji, stalking in all the unusual ways he ought to. He makes no grand entrance; slipping in silent as a deadly, greedy cold, furling up the flank of its victim from heel to heart. Even his breath plumes the air with frost when he speaks near a shoulder.

“ This is not a tradition I’m familiar with, “ he said before he brushed forward to properly face Neji. In the facet of his red eyes is a rich emotion coalesced with so many that the only resulting display could be described as a muted eros. 

A breath before all-too-warm lips press upon the Hyuuga’s, seeking affection with a hunger, and trapping the unfortunate prey to his desire. Sasuke could stand to be more gentle, but he is not; he’s never learned how even if his shoulders quivered with some semblance of restraint.

~X~——; He was aware the other was there. No matter how hard Sasuke tried to stay hidden, Neji was always aware. He was always hyperaware of who was around him. A nasty habit he had picked up since being brought back. He couldn't risk the wrong person finding out that he was still around after all.

He tilted his head to one side, unaware of just what Sasuke was rattling on about. As far as Neji knew it was just another Saturday. Or at least he assumed it was Saturday. He wasn't the best about keeping up with the week anymore. Not unless it was needed.

Neji studied him, watching every small movement Sasuke took. Curious what the other was on about.

He froze at the kiss, sure he could have moved out of the way, dogged it. But he hadn't expected that of all things to happen. He was sure there was a joke about the hamster on the wheel that kept his brain rolling had gone flying off the wheel somewhere.

It only took him a moment before he kissed back, uncaring that Sasuke wasn't the most gentle with the kiss, it wasn't like there was anything physically Sasuke could do that would leave lasting damage.

He kissed back with the same level of need and desire Sasuke had tossed at him, before breaking it after a moment laughing softly.

"If this is how I'm treated after every time I take the life of one of those from my clan who's done me wrong, I think I am going to enjoy it even more."

[howlingthunder]

@hatredcurse sent Obito to annoy the Hokage:

Awful and terrible should it be! An accursed holiday, infamous and famous as it were. Obito could not remember the last time he had paid attention to such things. Never could he remember if he cared, or if it ever provided him any value other than being an ache to navigate around. Either way, he will loom near his Hokage’s shoulder as an irritating sentinel. “ Kaa—shi-kun, ” his baritone is ripe with mockery of a sweet lover. Even worse, his rough hands gather the poor exhausted man by the shoulders as a big, wet, adoring kiss is sunk into his cheek. “ Muuaaaaah. ”

Who had the idea of choosing a Hokage by strength, and then chain them to a desk for administrative work?. Kakashi hoped whoever had created that concept (Probably either the Shodaime, or the Niidaime) were condemned to endless administrative work in the afterlife.

To say that Kakashi was burned out by the paperwork in front of him was an understatement. He looked up as Obito called his name, only to be suddenly kissed. Now he was confused.

"What was that for?" has he forgotten what day is it?.

[storiedocs]

Holidays carried little value to Sasuke. More often than not, he struggles with keeping record with the date whenever he is at leisure, never mind anything beyond that. However, now that he has another living body stationed in his residence, he is mindful of worldly happenings. He was no expert chef nor was he handy with much other than what worth his body carried was a blade. So, what Chitose will find waiting for her is an easel draped with one of Sasuke’s old cloaks next to the door to her room. ( He would never dare enter where he was not invited ). 

It was an ornate piece painted by hers truly. It depicts one of the many beautiful shrines towards the Uzushio border, long abandoned by any masterful shrine attendants, but seemingly frozen in time. The light slants over the beastial statues bordering the entry outside with the host shrouded in the shadows of green canopies. Sasuke created a colorful masterpiece with such a rich saturation to place photographs to shame. 

There is also a note tucked away in the corner:

“ For whatever it’s worth. Thank you. ”

Sasuke could go anywhere he wished (it was, after all, his house), but Chitose still found it touching that he respected her privacy. And the fact that he thought of her enough to leave a gift for the occasion was nearly enough to bring her to tears.

The beauty of the painting—meticulously detailed yet also brighter than life, as only the perfect memory and skillful hand of an Uchiha could capture—actually did. It tugged at some part of her mind and heart that she couldn’t quite identify, like a half-remembered lullaby.

She would have to find a frame for it: something simple so as not to detract from the art itself. And she would hang it in a place of honor in her room.

As for the note, it went in her treasure-box: an old cardboard shoebox filled with sentimental knick-knacks. Most people outgrow such habits by their teenage years, but Chitose still kept hers into adulthood.