#starlightlion

[silverstarlightlion]

[silverstarlightwrites]

ah yes, the idea for yet another variant of this au chain

Team Seven take the mission to the Land of Waves. On the bridge, they fight Zabuza and Haku.

On the bridge, Sakura dies.

For a moment that lasts forever, everything seems to freeze. It’s shock, initially, on every face. Haku’s mirrors are in the midst of cracking apart, Naruto and Sasuke standing bloody and back-to-back between them, while Haku lunges across the expanse of stone to protect Zabuza from the shrill and deathly lightning in Kakashi’s hand.

Even Sakura herself seems stunned, rotating midair as if in slow motion. She seems unsure of herself, or how exactly she got where she is - bolted from one end of the bridge to the other, abandoning her post as Tazuna’s bodyguard to intercept Haku on their way to Kakashi.

And she’s made it, to her credit. Caught Haku just before they reach Zabuza, tagged them with her kunai. There’s blood on their clothes, a stark red streak against pale skin and fabric.

They’ve spun at the contact, reflexive, defensive. Somehow, even with the Chidori roaring in Kakashi’s palm, the world goes silent as Haku’s senbon sinks into Sakura’s neck. It’s all too slow as the strike transfers momentum, as Sakura’s feet lift from the ground and the senbon tears out of her throat. Sasuke stares on with Sharingan ablaze, unable to breathe, unable to look away as his eyes dutifully and traitorously record Sakura’s death in minute, excruciating detail. He doesn’t know, just yet, what the cost of his clan’s power truly is.

But Kakashi does, only too terribly well, and as time catches up with itself and Sakura goes crashing into the bridge, he strikes. His hand punches straight through Zabuza’s ribcage, tearing through his heart until Kakashi’s fingers protrude from his back. The surprise on his face is overlaid with the relief on Rin’s, and Kakashi yanks back, turns away, refuses to look at her ghost with the blood on his hands.

Sasuke is frozen, unblinking, struggling to breathe. He can’t drag his gaze away from Sakura’s body, and she looks so small where she’s crumpled on the bridge, utterly motionless in an expanding puddle of her own blood. He can’t see colours, except for the crimson, as if everything else has been spontaneously switched off.

She’s still breathing, barely, a weak flutter that-- Gods, Sasuke thinks he might be imagining it, actually, he can’t tell, and her body is outlined in white fire that he knows isn’t real, Sharingan whirring, head spinning. The world rotates.

It ruptures, all at once, as Naruto lets out an ear-piercing scream at Sasuke’s side. Whatever was holding it all snaps, and Sasuke whips around to check on Naruto, and sees the menacing red bleeding into blue eyes, sees the way his teeth are cracking and elongating in his jaws, the fangs that are too big for Naruto’s skull, the ink creeping out from the birthmarks on his cheeks, winding back along his temples and down his nose.

There’s a shout, Kakashi’s voice, but Naruto has already vanished in a blur of sticky red chakra and the shattering of the stone under his feet, and by the time Sasuke can find him again he’s already torn into Haku like a wild animal, cracking bone and shredding flesh. Their head rolls away from their body, before Naruto pounces on it.

The skull pancakes under Naruto’s hand, a splatter of brains like a water balloon bursting, a tongue poking from between his fingers and an eyeball popping into the air and arcing away. Naruto is snarling, glowing, and there’s blood dripping from every footprint he leaves, his skin melting and boiling as fast as it heals under the cloak of-- of-- oh gods, and Sasuke doesn’t even know, can’t even comprehend what it is that he’s seeing. A Naruto that isn’t himself, isn’t even human, and there are ethereal tails forming and lashing from the dark red chakra itself, two-- three. Long curves that look like ears, deep gouges in the stone as his nails-- claws, they’re claws, wickedly sharp, and they look more like bone than fingernail, like the animal is too big to be contained by Naruto’s real body.

Haku is in pieces under Naruto’s attack, and he won’t stop slashing and biting and shredding. Nausea boils up, fear and panic and Sasuke doesn’t fucking understand but he’s pretty fucking sure that he doesn’t want to, and it’s almost a relief when he has to turn away to vomit.

Kakashi’s voice is in the air, and every fibre of his body wants to help ruin the people who’ve killed Sakura right in front of them, wants to sprint to her side and try to save her - but he can’t, he knows, and he can’t lose control like his kids are. He’s the leader. He’s the adult. There’s too much blood under Sakura already, her carotid artery sundered by the attack, and she’s just a child, she’s beyond help, beyond Kakashi’s rudimentary skills in medical ninjutsu, she’s already gone and there’s nothing Kakashi can do to save her. Because there’s never anything he can do to save her.

But he can’t lose control, and he needs to triage the situation as best he can. If he fails to act, then he’ll lose Naruto too. He’ll lose Sasuke. He’ll lose all of them. So he sprints to Naruto, tackles him to the ground, ignores the sudden searing agony of the Kyuubi’s chakra biting into his skin. Naruto is wild, lost in the onslaught of his demon and grief, but where the Kyuubi’s domination brings with it new and unique strengths, it also brings weaknesses.

It takes more chakra and effort than Kakashi has, but he makes Naruto look him in the eye, brings as much of the Sharingan’s power to bear as he can. For a minute, struggling to keep Naruto down while he howls and snaps his teeth and tries to bite through Kakashi’s wrists, nothing visibly happens. Kakashi is shaking by the time Naruto finally stills, takes a deep breath, lets out a noise like a dying animal.

When Naruto slumps, the Kyuubi locked back into its cage, Kakashi goes down with him.

Sasuke’s approach is slow, shuddering, uncertain. His eyes are burning, and he can’t tell if it’s from chakra or from tears, but he doesn’t care. Naruto and Kakashi are breathing, tangled together in an unconscious pile, and Sasuke can’t even begin to think what to do with them so he ignores them. Goes to Sakura instead. She’s sprawled, her skin scraped and raw from her impact and tumble against the bridge, her throat torn open. Sasuke’s never seen what the inside of a larynx looks like before.

He turns away as he gags, but there’s nothing left to come up except a violent ache so deep that Sasuke thinks, for a moment, that he might be about to die as well. Sakura is limp when he tries to pick her up, warm and pliable and lifeless in his hands. He can’t get them to stop shaking, makes a mess as he tries to wipe her hair out of her face. Smears blood everywhere. It’s matted in her hair, the normal pink warped into a blurring crimson.

It’s the ninken who actually take control. Pakkun sets Bull and Shiba to guard Tazuna, even though the threat to him is gone. The cold reality is that they’re acting more like prison guards than bodyguards; Konoha has lost a genin and nearly lost her whole team, and it rarely forgives such offences. Guruko establishes a small parameter around the scene, and Akino keeps the remaining civilians in a tight group. Urushi comes to sit vigil with Sasuke, and they let him cradle Sakura’s body to his chest and cry.

With only a few words, Pakkun has Ūhei unsummon herself, and she vanishes in a puff of smoke to report to the Hokage and get a rescue team sent after them. With Bisuke’s help, Pakkun himself sets to untangling Naruto and Kakashi and ensuring they’ll live through this. Shiba, the only ninken with a lightning affinity, is pulled off Tazuna duty to give Kakashi a chakra transfusion; he jolts and moans when it’s delivered, but it’s a necessary agony and he doesn’t fully wake.

When Gatō makes his appearance, Bisuke vanishes and reappears on his shoulders, and his entourage is sent fleeing in panic as she rips out his throat too with delicate, savage fangs.

By the time that Ūhei returns with a rescue squad at her side, Naruto is awake again and he refuses to let anyone take Sakura’s body from him but the masked Anbu simply picks them up together. Gai is firm but gentle as he carries Kakashi - not quite awake, but beginning to stir. Sasuke tries to stand - he’s numb and hollow, and he thinks that he should feel like he did when he found Itachi over the bodies of their parents but he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel anything.

Perhaps he should feel guilty for that.

His legs fail him, however, and maybe he should feel pathetic for not even being able to pick himself up from the ground but he can’t bring himself to care as he’s carefully lifted up by Asuma. Sasuke wants nothing more than to stop existing while he watches his team over Asuma’s shoulder, stares unblinking at the way Naruto shakes and begs Sakura to wake up. She won’t.

She won’t ever again.

The ninken make the trip back with them, and if it is a quick affair then it is also a haunting one. Naruto doesn’t shut up the entire time, alternating between talking to the girl who cannot hear him and muttering quietly to himself. If Sasuke looks closely enough, he can see the flash of fangs in Naruto’s mouth that never quite flatten again.

The report to Hiruzen lasts for a lifetime, and is over far too soon. Kakashi is lucid by then, standing on his own feet but with Gai’s continued assistance. His report is... empty. Perhaps that’s as it should be - he does not cry, for death has already wrung from him as many tears as he could ever give it, but his voice is icy and his gaze is bitter and grim. He recommends, as emotionlessly as he explains all the rest, that Konoha execute Tazuna for his crimes.

Naruto finally surrenders Sakura’s body when her parents arrive. He and Sasuke will never forget the way they break when he does, the collapse and the howling and the way that Sakura is stiff and pale in their arms. Her eyes are still open, glazed and green and unseeing.

Why are her eyes still open?

Afterwards, after Sasuke and Naruto are released from Team Seven’s trip to the hospital but Kakashi is coerced to stay, two of the ninken stick around. Ūhei sticks to Sasuke’s side like a parasite, a warmth and stability that Sasuke finds himself loathing, while Bisuke trails Naruto at a short but definitive distance.

Naruto doesn’t let Sasuke wander home alone. He wants to, desperately, wants to hide away in the ocean of death that he lives in and-- gods, and what, exactly? Showering is an option that should be appealing, but it’s not. Even the thought of washing Sakura’s blood off himself - of erasing the last tangible evidence of her life - is sickening. They’d been cruel to her, in life. Sasuke had expected little of her at all, and he hadn’t cared if she’d known it. Naruto, with his puppy-love, hadn’t been better.

Except she was dead, and in the end her strength hadn’t mattered at all. Any one of them could have been caught the way she was - and it was bravery that had killed her, not weakness. She’d left the safety of distance and thrown herself in the way, in between their sensei and an incoming attack, and there was no way of knowing if Haku could have hurt or killed Kakashi in the attempt but Sakura had prevented it from even being an option.

Had she known? Had it been a decision on her part, or had it been instinct and desperation? Had she ever realised that-- gods, had she ever known that her team loved her?

A glare isn’t enough to discourage Naruto from following Sasuke home, as it never has been, and there’s a chance that Sasuke could make him leave with words but--

He can’t bring himself to speak. Not once, not at all. His voice feels like a weight in his throat, like he’s swallowed marbles, and that’s fine, really, because what right does he have to fucking use it anyway? Sakura’s voice has been stripped away. She’ll never speak again, and Sasuke deserves to far less than she does.

Did.

The dogs never leave their sides over the following weeks. Ūhei and Bisuke are their most common company, but all eight of the ninken rotate in and out. Naruto refuses to go back his own home, wherever the fuck it is. At first Sasuke hates him for it, hates everything, but eventually Naruto is absent for half a day - training, he says when he gets home - and Sasuke panics.

So much is gone. Almost everything is gone. Sakura is gone. And gods Naruto is annoying - but he understands, actually, Sasuke can see now, despite the absurd and cheery exterior he’d worn before. He’s always understood, and the cheerfulness was a lie. Or, perhaps, a choice. And the fear of losing him to is so overwhelming that Sasuke simply never asks him to leave.

They attend Sakura’s funeral. It’s... eerie. Too many people and too few people at the same time. Some that Sasuke doesn’t recognise - too many that he does. Sasuke stands between Naruto and Kakashi, and Kakashi doesn’t say a word to them, to anyone, and Sasuke lets Naruto hold onto his hand with a crushing grip. Ino approaches them, afterwards, and habit has Sasuke bracing himself but there’s no admiration in her eyes this time. She snarls at them. “It should have been you.”

It’s hard to argue with her.

Sakura’s parents are... unbearable. The agony in their expressions is so familiar, so intimate, and yet they’re so kind to Sasuke and Naruto despite the fact they let their daughter die. When Mebuki learns that they’re living on their own - not a parent between them - she begins visiting them. They’re not social calls, not really, and she doesn’t linger too long, but her visits are scheduled and regular, and bring with them meals put together for Sasuke and Naruto and whatever cleaning they haven’t managed between them. After the first week, she brings small snacks for whichever of the ninken are with them as well.

Kizashi gives them two stuffed animals and Sakura’s hitai-ite. The toys are generic - a very round bird and a fox, both worn by time and use - but they were hers, and beloved when she was small. Naruto tries to refuse the hitai-ite, because surely her parents want to keep such an important thing, but Kizashi insists. He doesn’t want it, he tells them. He would rather remember Sakura as his daughter, and not as a Konoha soldier.

Perhaps there’s merit in that, but Sasuke and Naruto set it between her toys on the dresser in their room, next to their team photos, and they can’t bring themselves to work out the bloodstains in the fabric, but the plate is kept perfectly polished. Maybe her parents just don’t understand - but Sakura was proud of her position as a Konoha-nin, and she died fulfilling it.

It’s a little shameful, of course, that Sasuke is sharing his room with Naruto - but Naruto disagrees, and Sasuke can’t bring himself to care. Sleeping alone has proven... difficult. And pride is worthless.

The dogs never leave, but Naruto and Sasuke don‘t see Kakashi after Sakura’s funeral. There are meetings with Hiruzen, visits from some of the other jōnin, and no matter how vehemently they protest, they’re assigned a new sensei. It’s hideously uncommon, and it’s not Kaede-sensei’s fault, but Sasuke can’t help but hate her too. She can’t replace Kakashi, and Sasuke resents her for even trying, no matter that Kakashi-sensei has abandoned them. At least they’re not given a new teammate. As if anyone could possibly replace Sakura.

“The dog-Anbu is back,” Naruto says one day, while they spar under Kaede’s watchful eye. “I think... I think it might be Kakashi-sensei.”

And Sasuke knows about the dog-Anbu, of course. Though he rarely speaks himself, Naruto has no such compunction, and his chatter has become a familiar comfort. A Naruto who’s talking is a Naruto who’s alive. He’s told Sasuke all about growing up, about the loneliness and the dread. About the hatred of the village. The dog-Anbu had been the most familiar regular amongst the quiet tail of Anbu who’d watched Naruto his entire life - and yet never intervened. Had it been willful, or were they under orders? Hard to say, given that they were almost never given direct trouble anymore. The civilians who saw them out and about - on the rare occasion they were - were either too sympathetic or too wary to confront them. There was no opportunity to intervene even if the dog-Anbu wanted to.

That the surreptitious Anbu presence was back should have been concerning, but... Naruto had always found comfort in the recognisable dog-Anbu. Maybe it was contagious.

And if Kakashi was still watching them, then he hadn’t abandoned them. Somehow, it made Kaede’s training more welcome.

Jiraiya becomes part of their lives. He’s an irregular and brief presence, but he drifts in and out. They meet him early, and Naruto refuses to leave Sasuke’s side to fulfill whatever task Jiraiya has for him, and so they learn together the truth of the beast caged inside Naruto’s skin. Jiraiya works on the Seal, repairs what he can from the damage Naruto did on the bridge, ensures its continued integrity. He’s hard to like on a personal level, but they don’t begrudge his visits when they happen - making sure Naruto has control of the demon is imperative. He can’t use a power he can’t control.

Because that’s their secret, of course. In the dead of night, in the quiet of the Uchiha compound, when it’s just them and the ghosts. Naruto practices, with Sasuke on hand - Sasuke who’s learnt from Jiraiya that the Sharingan can manipulate the Bijuu, who finally understands what it was Kakashi did to bring Naruto down when Sakura died - and Sasuke practices with him, and forces back what power slips beyond Naruto’s grasp when they break open tiny cracks in the Seal.

And Naruto helps Sasuke too, offers a barrier of stolen demonic chakra that is the only thing, they’ve found, that can provide any resistance to the sticky black flames Sasuke can conjure. It makes his eyes bleed, and the chakra cost is like ashes in his veins, but creating and controlling the Amaterasu gets easier every time he does it.

They’re going to need it. Sasuke isn’t sure if Naruto simply needed the context of Sasuke’s quest for vengeance or if Sakura’s death made him understand the purpose of revenge, but they’re in it together, now. Naruto refuses to leave Sasuke’s side - and if that means following him down the path that leads to killing Itachi, then so be it. His power, despite what Sasuke had once thought, is immense and - somehow - at Sasuke’s disposal.

It’s strange, he thinks. How Naruto can still have faith in people, the differences in how he talks to Sakura’s ghost as if she’s watching them, as if she’s not simply gone, as if she might be proud of them, and how Sasuke can never bring himself to say a single word. Stranger still, how easily Naruto throws that faith away when Sasuke asks him to.

Strange, but comforting. Love, perhaps, if Sasuke lets himself dare to contemplate so fragile and dangerous a thing. And if Naruto will forsake his morals at Sasuke’s behest, then the least he can do is hold true to them. Because one day, when they’re ready, when they’re so strong that nobody will ever be able to rip away a life they love ever again, they’ll hunt down Itachi and make him pay for the lives he tore down.

But first - and maybe it’s practice, or maybe it’s vengeance, or maybe it’s both - they’ll return to the Land of Waves, once they’ve got enough control of their strength, and they’ll burn the Great Sakura Bridge to the ground.

[silverstarlightwrites]

Shout out to the ficlet I wrote about Pitch (Rise of the Guardians) and his backstory when I was young, because I desperately wish I still had a copy of it and I don't

[silverstarlightlion]

Trying to do things with executive dysfunction is like trying to read a book in a language you don't speak. "Just read it" says a multi-lingual person, because they know what each character means and it's still a task that requires focus and a little bit of effort for them to read, but they know the language. I'm trying to puzzle out patterns and repeating characters and maybe find the one or two words I recognise to try and get even just a little CONTEXT for what I'm supposed to be reading, let alone the actual content, and the person with executive function who knows the language is alrisix chapters in.

Stop telling us to 'just do it'. It doesn't work. I want to do it, but I don't speak the language.

[silverstarlightwrites]

An alternate AU to this one that occurred to me just now

Team Seven take the mission to the Land of Waves. On the bridge, they fight Zabuza and Haku.

On the bridge, Naruto dies.

Something in Sasuke breaks, and he goes berserk. Haku and their ice mirrors scream as they flashboil in the black flames Sasuke summons forth, and it takes only a howl and a wild gesture to send Amaterasu blazing across the bridge to consume Zabuza and Tazuna as well. The stone melts underneath them, while Kakashi snatches up Sakura and flees, and it’s not until Sasuke feels the weight of wet clothes - crushing Naruto’s body to his chest, bloody and so absurdly hot - that he realises the bridge has disintegrated, and the water is burning.

It’s instinct and desperation that let Sasuke to douse the fires he’s conjured, and even then it aches and tastes like blood and acid, and he’s sinking when Kakashi whips across the surface to catch him, the moment the flames are gone.

Sasuke cries into Naruto’s chest, and refuses to let go. Sakura is cold and silent, and she neither speaks nor eats for the grim, slow trek back to Konoha. And it is slow, even further drawn out by the constant fluctuation of chakra from Naruto’s corpse, carried awkwardly and painfully by Sasuke alone.

It’s not Naruto’s chakra, of course. Kakashi dreads the inevitable questions, resolves not to lie when they come, and somehow their absence is even worse.

The moment they walk through the southern Konoha gate, there are Anbu all over them. They pry Naruto’s body from Sasuke’s arms, despite his shouting and kunai, despite the way Sasuke’s eyes ignite into blood red to fight-- But he doesn’t summon Amaterasu again, doesn’t expend the chakra he doesn’t have to try and kill their own. Sakura touches his shoulder, just two fingers, and her face is pale and hollow when she shakes her head, but it’s still more interaction than she’s allowed for the whole trip, and Sasuke obeys her. Blinks his eyes black, slumps in place, and then sags against Sakura.

She catches him, and he’s shaking, and she stares over his shoulder, unblinking, at the Anbu wrapping Naruto’s corpse in chakra-absorbing paper scrawled endlessly with Seals.

Kakashi isn’t sure what she sees, and he isn’t sure he wants to know.

One Anbu stays behind, and they instruct the gutted remains of Team Seven that the Hokage wants to see them. Kakashi can’t bring himself to intervene when Sasuke snarls and lunges, or when Sakura lets him. Doesn’t step in when Sasuke tells them to Fuck Off or when he punches them weakly in the chest - and the Anbu clearly thinks he’s simply not going to get involved, because when they try to catch Sasuke’s wrist they aren’t expecting Kakashi to move. Too fast to be safe, too fast for the chakra use not to burn.

Sasuke leans back into Kakashi as the Anbu trips, and Kakashi feels himself close his hands on Sasuke’s shoulders. “Don’t touch my kids,” he hears himself hiss, and if he doesn’t quite know when he accepted them as his then he doesn’t quite care either.

One of them is dead, and they won’t be permitted to mourn him properly because of the beast caged inside him without his knowledge.

The thought makes Kakashi sick. It all does, all of it. Konoha’s abuse of an innocent child, Kakashi’s complicitness in allowing it to happen. Hiruzen’s cruelty in allowing it also.

In allowing all of it.

Sasuke has lost enough.

The Anbu doesn’t need telling twice, and they leave Kakashi to cajole his kids into seeing Hiruzen. It takes more effort than he’d care to admit. Just physically, the three of them are a wreck - and it’s worse emotionally. Mentally.

“You let them take him.”

It’s the first thing Sakura has said since Naruto died - in a burst of blood and scarlet chakra - and Kakashi suddenly thinks he’s never felt anything so cold as her voice. When he meets her gaze, it’s like drowning.

“I had to. The Hokage will explain.” Because Kakashi is bound not to. By an oath that maybe he shouldn’t have taken, by a promise extracted by force. Why shouldn’t he tell them?

He doesn’t, of course. He scoops Sasuke up, and despises that Sasuke simply allows it, and offers Sakura a hand as they start walking. Sakura ignores it, striding ahead with her back too stiff and her hands clenched too tight. The walk to the Hokage Tower, while significantly shorter, is the same as the trip from Waves to Konoha.

Hiruzen ushers them into his office, tearful, and Sasuke struggles stiffly out of Kakashi’s grip. Red flickers and whorls through his eyes, and it’s impossible to know if he’s fighting to ignite his Sharingan or if he’s fighting not to.

“I’m sorry.” It’s low and mournful and wet. It’s insulting.

Sakura snaps. She flies into a rage, screaming obscenities. Her teammate is dead, and she’s never experienced loss like this before, and gods but she watched it happen, and no pitiful, pathetic ‘I’m sorry’ can ever undo that. That Hiruzen even tries sends her over the edge.

Nobody stops her. By the time she burns out, the office is torn apart, papers scattered everywhere and the desk overturned. Sakura has scratched her nails bloody against the woodwork. When she collapses to the floor and howls, Sasuke finally approaches her, sinks to her level, and wraps his arms around her.

Perhaps he understands, then. Perhaps a hug - so tight as Sakura clings back that it may be the only thing holding her together - is all he wanted after the horror of his clan’s slaughter.

Kakashi catches himself wondering if Sasuke ever got that hug, but he knows the answer.

Of course he didn’t.

Hiruzen explains to them what a Jinchuriki is. He explains the basic concept of a Bijuu, and gives them a short summary of the Nine-Tails. They take it blankly, too much to process over the top of their raw grief, but they look to Kakashi as if searching for confirmation and Kakashi nods. Tells them it’s true.

And then, because it’s not enough, it’s pathetic an explanation, he hears himself continue.

Because “He deserved better. We failed him.” Hears it spin, feels more than sees the way Sasuke and Sakura twitch and shrink, and then corrects himself. His own voice is like tar in his throat.

“You failed him.”

Sasuke and Sakura follow him out of Hiruzen’s office, and Hiruzen doesn’t try to stop them.

Kakashi sets the pack to watch them when they all end up at the war memorial. It wasn’t exactly a decision to go there, of course, but it never really is. All eight ninken are there already when they arrive, and they encourage Sakura and Sasuke to collapse and curl up with them, but Kakashi resists. He has something else to do.

And it’s dark by the time he comes back, his kids and his pack all bundled up in his far-too-tiny apartment, but he wakes them all the same. Demanding Naruto’s body back hadn’t been easy or clean, and the results of the chakra-draining done to preserve as much of the stray Nine-Tails chakra bleeding out of where it had torn free upon Naruto’s death is... messy.

Naruto’s body stays wrapped up the way Kakashi walked out of the Anbu Blue Vault with it. Only his head is visible, and his hair is knotted and matted with blood and oil, but it doesn’t stop Sakura from running her hands through it, or Sasuke from laying his head against Naruto’s chest.

Not enough people come to Naruto’s funeral. The whole fucking Village should mourn him, the child who protected them from the Nine-Tails for his entire, short life. His loss should have been overwhelming - it should have brought all of Konoha to a fucking stop.

But it doesn’t. Umino Iruka attends, and he’s quiet but he weeps ceaselessly the whole day. Sakura and Sasuke seem to welcome his presence, so Kakashi doesn’t nothing to discourage it.

Hiruzen shows up, perhaps halfway through. It takes all of Kakashi’s still-wan strength to hold Sakura back from trying to maul him, and Sasuke doesn’t fight one way or another when he lights up his Sharingan at the Hokage’s approach.

“Go. Away,” Sasuke snarls at him, and for just a moment it seems like Hiruzen might scold the boy, who’s been stripped of his family in half a dozen different ways, over and over again, as if he’s expressing his grief incorrectly, and that moment is all it takes for Kakashi to speak over all of them.

It’s the voice he used as the Hound. He hasn’t heard it for years. “You should go, Hokage-sama. You don’t want to make me choose a side here.”

Because Kakashi is loathe to fight Konoha at all, let alone its leader, but he knows without a doubt that he will. For Sasuke. For Sakura. If ever the decision must be made, Kakashi knows he will turn on Hiruzen in an instant if it would protect his kids from ending up like him.

Konoha would not make a broken blade out of Sasuke. It would not strip Sakura of her soul.

Orochimaru comes. He seeks out Sasuke, and the power he offers is too tempting for Sasuke to pass up - but he refuses to sneak away in the dead of night. Team Seven’s progress has halted in the aftermath of Naruto’s death; Hiruzen has tried several times to full the gap in their unit, but Sakura and Sasuke vehemently refuse to accept one, and Kakashi does not make them. He will not.

Naruto cannot be replaced. The gap can never be sufficiently filled.

And so comes the morning that Sasuke asks for their company in leaving. He’s been suffocating under Konoha’s weight for a long time, Kakashi realises that morning, and he’s finally reached his limit. Kakashi doesn’t try to talk him out of it; he won’t succeed. There’s no point. Revenge has been his motivation for so long that Sasuke will never quite learn how to give it up, and now he has so much more for which to seek vengeance.

It will only be Itachi first. After that, all of Konoha is culpable for Naruto’s death, and the endless suffering he endured before it. Kakashi is not fool enough to think he can change Sasuke’s mind.

Sakura agrees on the spot. She’s unrecognisable from the bubbly genin Kakashi took custody of from the Academy. She’s gaunt and messy and angry, and she’s forsaken her friends in order to follow Sasuke into the dark. She’s clinging to him, ferociously, in a different way than she’d tried to before.

She’s clinging to Sasuke the same way Kakashi had clung to Rin - how Rin had clung right back - after Obito’s death. Sasuke is her constant, her reassurance that Naruto’s absence won’t just be for nothing, that someone is going to pay for it. That she’s going to help make that happen.

You don’t want to make me choose a side, Kakashi had told Hiruzen, as if they were words of fucking prophecy. Because here are his kids, minds made up, choosing a side that Kakashi would rather flay himself than join - and yet, here he is too, and he knows already he’s going to go with them.

Choosing against Konoha tastes like ozone and fear and self-loathing, but choosing against Sasuke and Sakura is unconscionable. Even this, even this, Kakashi will do. Watching them die is a terror that keeps him up at night, a nightmare with its hands around Kakashi’s throat, a dread that’s getting ever colder. That this might lead to that outcome takes his breath away.

But the thought of not being there is even worse. Konoha forsook Sasuke when his family was wiped out, and Konoha forsook them both once again when they came home bloodied and shattered. Konoha has gone on the same as always, as if nothing even happened, and it always has when the whole world was supposed to shatter and didn’t - with Obito’s eye in Kakashi’s skull and Rin’s blood on Kakashi’s hands - and that truth does absolutely nothing to stay Sasuke’s hatred or Sakura’s wrath. They are young and angry and wounded, and there is no words Kakashi can say that will convince them to reject the power on offer, no matter how dangerous and untrustworthy the source may be.

And he refuses to let them do this alone. Everyone will want their heads, but Kakashi has fought and killed the best of them, and if - in the end - his only purpose is to protect his remaining kids, where he failed to protect the third, then perhaps the Hound yet serves a purpose still.

So Kakashi selects a kunai, and helps them score through their Konoha hitai-ite, and lets them lead him into hell.

[silverstarlightlion]

the final entry in the team seven dies on the bridge au - this one got way away from me but oh well, I’m not editing it because that’s not how this chain works

Team Seven take the mission to the Land of Waves. On the bridge, they fight Zabuza and Haku.

On the bridge, Kakashi dies.

It happens in a flash, a shout and a burst of chakra and blood. The ice mirrors trapping Sasuke and Naruto in with Haku crack and break, and there's a high-pitched electric whine that lasts for a moment longer than the voices, before everything turns eerily, horribly silent.

In the ghostly silence, the mirrors collapse and smash into the half-finished Bridge, shattering, and Team Seven comes apart and shatters with them. Kakashi drops to one knee – thud – as the lightning in his palm winks out, and Zabuza steps back with a sneer. At his side, Haku lowers their hands, ignores the streak of blood across their side, and relaxes their stance. They move into Zabuza’s wake, following him as he strides past. Towards Sakura.

Towards Tazuna.

Naruto shouts, incoherent, and all at once he's wreathed once more in the strange and sticky red chakra, and throwing himself at Zabuza. Sakura is struck dumb, frozen, unblinking, watching Zabuza approach with sightless eyes, her kunai still held before her – her grip is textbook and too tight, and wavers when the Kiri-nin get too close.

She doesn't move, as Haku lashes out to stop Naruto's descent, flings him back. She doesn't move when Zabuza walks past her. She doesn't move as Sasuke snarls and jumps after Haku as well, as their fight re-engages. She doesn't move when Tazuna cries out behind her, she doesn't move when her name rings in her ears, she doesn't move when it ends with a whimper and a gurgle. Sakura doesn't move as Zabuza sets his sword on her shoulder.

She thinks, for a minute that lasts her whole lifetime, that Zabuza’s going to kill her too. She's not sure that she minds.

It's only when Zabuza grunts, dismissive, and turns on his heel – taking his sword with him, leaving a nick in her collar so shallow it doesn't even hurt – that Sakura finds the will to move. Gasps in a deep breath, like she's been drowning. Naruto and Sasuke are still fighting around her, flashing back and forth as Haku fends them off, but it all just sounds like echoes as she remembers how to walk and starts creeping towards Kakashi-sensei.

He's sprawled gracelessly, and his head is turned just a little too far to the side. He's half on his stomach, shoulders flat to the concrete, with one leg crumpled up underneath him. The grim, grey light of overcast morning winter is reflecting in his eyes, a glimmer that feels like a lie.

"Kakashi-sensei…?" she hears herself ask, her voice absolutely tiny, and her knees give way to drop her at Kakashi's side. Naruto is shouting something behind her, getting distant, and Sakura can't tell if he's moving away from her or if she just can't trust her senses anymore, but she can't bring herself to try figure it out. Her ears are ringing. Kakashi doesn't respond – doesn't move, doesn't blink, doesn't lift his gaze to her. His pupils don't respond to the light, too dilated. His mismatched irises are almost eclipsed. "... Kakashi… sensei…?" Her voice is a ghost in her own throat. When she reaches out, it feels like watching someone else do it; her hand is shaking violently, numb and cold, and her very skin feels like it doesn't belong to her, clingy and fuzzy and tingling all at once, like she's both trying to crawl out of herself and is the thing trying to be climbed out of.

Kakashi's face is warm when she touches him. It's a struggle to roll him over, the effort a blur of sound and nauseating breathlessness as she grips his shoulder and pushes. He's limp, utterly so, and his limbs drag and twist when she manages to get him more on his side. There's no movement in his chest or stomach.

He doesn't blink. He's not breathing.

The blood is pooling underneath him where Haku had torn a hole in his side, from all the cuts Zabuza gave him. When Sakura touches his face again, tries to turn his head even though she doesn't even know why, she can feel the broken bones in his neck grind.

Her tears taste like bitter acid as she collapses, each sob into Kakashi's unbreathing chest torn out of her as if she's turning inside out. Sakura can feel each beat of her own heart, like being kicked, a thunderous stomping in her ears, and it's a betrayal of the highest order when she can't feel Kakashi's under her hands. She thinks she screams, maybe. She's not sure.

It's not real. It can't be real. If she can just cry hard enough, if she can get out the huge, heavy, writhing thing that's crawling up her throat, if she can just make it all stop for just a moment, she can make it stop being real. Because it has to be a lie.

Kakashi is one of the strongest shinobi in Konoha. He's their teacher. He's improper and lazy and grouchy, and he's fought so hard to get this mission done, and he can't be dead. There's so much more he still has to teach them.

She thinks that one of them touches her, maybe, but it registers only as searing pain and she cries out between choking sobs, and it's only when she eventually has to pull back from Kakashi— From Kakashi's… body… from Kakashi that she remembers she's got the incredible misfortune to exist, and that there's still a solid world around her. It's revolting. That the world dares to continue being when it should be shattered.

But she pulls back, because her sobs are getting caught in her throat and she's gagging on them, stomach convulsing as the force of her crying slides into violent coughing, until she jolts and vomits.

Naruto, returned from the fruitless chase, keeps at Sakura's side and rubs her back, and tries to figure out what to say. How it could have possibly gone so wrong. They should have won. They were supposed to win – they were supposed to save Inari and prove that goodness meant something and make sure that Waves would be okay.

But there's nothing but the cold wind and the grey sky and blood on all sides, and the smell of death and salt and bile while Sakura struggles to breathe through her tears and retching.

Sasuke hasn't made a sound. He stands a few feet away, eyes dark, staring at Kakashi with hatred and icy anger. His hands are clenched. He knows too well that Kakashi is dead and they failed and it doesn't mean a damn thing. Because life is cheap and death is worthless. Sasuke is seven years old again, and trying to figure out how to say goodbye to the corpses that are no longer his parents, and Kakashi will never even know if they mourn him or not. He can't find the will to care or fight or cry. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Nobody matters.

Death comes for all. Why should it mean anything if it found Kakashi now, or later? It would find everyone eventually.

Sasuke would make sure of it.

And across the countries, far beyond the knowledge of the now-lost genin, Konoha is split apart with the howls of eight ninken.

It's the ninken who find them first, in the end. They haven't moved from the bridge, half-completed, when the ninken arrive. It's late afternoon, and they've huddled together and done not much else. Sakura is in a small ball, curled up on the ground and holding onto Kakashi's body like he might still wake up at any moment and give her something to do. Sasuke stands nearby, arms folded, silent. He's watching, guarding, perhaps, except that he spots the ninken incoming and says nothing and moves neither to block their approach or welcome it. There are several Narutos milling about, one sitting with Sakura, hand still rubbing her back, while the others do… something. Even they're not really sure. But Naruto is a creature of action, and he can neither figure out what it is he's supposed to do nor tolerate the prospect of doing nothing.

There are Anbu on the ninken's tails, and they quickly take charge of the situation, and everything blurs together into noise and colour and pain.

When they arrive back at Konoha, the Anbu have to drag Sasuke up to the Hokage Tower with them. Naruto trudges alongside voluntarily, his gaze straying constantly to Kakashi – pale and still and cold and stiff in the Anbu's arms – and he silently prays that Grandpa Hokage will know what to do, because everything… seems a lot less simple than it did before, suddenly. Sakura offers no resistance, tucked against another Anbu's chest as she has been since they first picked her up in Waves Country. She's still shaking, each breath shallow and rattling, her gaze distant and empty. Putting her down isn't an option. Naruto is pretty sure she would simply stay curled on the ground where she was set, if the Anbu was to put her down.

Hirizen is unusually serious, when they're taken into his office, but that makes sense, Naruto supposes. The death of a Konoha jōnin is a big deal. Orders are given over their heads, and Naruto stays quiet despite the endless questions clawing at the inside of his ribcage, because Hiruzen does know what to do, obviously, because of course he would, so Naruto just has to wait until he tells them what they're supposed to do.

Right?

And it'll be okay? Like it's supposed to be?

… 

Sasuke fights. He snarls, and then shouts, and then draws a kunai. The Anbu who'd dragged him up here in the first place knocks him unconscious, somehow, too fast for the genin to track, and carries him out. Sakura doesn't even ask where they're taking him.

And she… quits. Not on the spot, it's not until they attend Kakashi's funeral – and Sasuke attends too, shackled to an Anbu member, and it's the first time they've seen him since Hiruzen's office – but at the end of the day, when almost everyone else has gone, when Sasuke's gone (and he didn't even acknowledge them, didn't say a word to them, ignored Naruto's shouting after him when the Anbu walked him away), she finally finally finds her voice to speak. She's been silent since the bridge.

"I'm… I'm quitting," she whispers to him, while her parents stand just a teeny bit back to give them space. Her eyes, dull and hollow green, are fixed on Kakashi's headstone. "I can't do this. I can't do anything."

She sets her hitai-ite on Kakashi's grave, and Naruto never sees her in training again.

He finds out where Sasuke is, through a combination of stubborn defiance and reckless rule-breaking. Hiruzen allows him into what can only be a secret Anbu facility, and takes him down endless stairs until finally he sees the torchlit cage that Sasuke is in. He's doing pushups when they arrive.

It isn't until Naruto appeals to him as a friend that Sasuke finally stops, gets to his feet, storms up to the bars. "We are not friends," he hisses.

"What are you going to do?" Naruto can't think of anything else to ask him. What can he possibly be doing? How can he be okay down here?

"I'm going to kill the people who deserve it."

Naruto visits Sasuke six more times, and six more times he's almost fully ignored while Sasuke ceaselessly trains, alone in the dark, as if he doesn't even care that he's locked up like some kind of criminal. Naruto dares once to ask Hiruzen to let Sasuke go, and he learns that day just why the Kage's are so respected and so feared. It's the first time he's ever been scared of Hiruzen, and no amount of apologies or make-up ramen afterwards can undo it.

If this is what being Hokage really means, Naruto's no longer sure that he wants it.

The seventh time, Sasuke is gone, and no one will tell Naruto where he's gone.

When, months later, Iruka takes Naruto to meet Jiraiya, Naruto leaps on the offer of training. He's been… not wallowing, but his team has disintegrated and his training has gotten spotty. He needs a teacher, someone incredibly strong like Jiraiya, because Naruto has to get stronger. He needs to get strong enough to protect the people who matter. He needs to be strong to make sure that nobody else dies because he couldn't stop it – he needs to, because maybe if he can get there, if he can promise safety, then he can earn back his family. Sasuke and Sakura had been, pretty much, for the short time they'd been a team.

His team was everything. How could he protect Konoha if he can't even protect his teammates?

And so Naruto leaves with Jiraiya, single-minded and dogged, and if he pushes too hard too fast then it's all Jiraiya can do to try and keep up with Naruto's pathological need to chase strength.

…

Sasuke relinquishes freedom. He has no use for it. In the dead of night, he's whisked out of the Anbu Red Vault and into a silent promise of power and revenge. He allows the Seal to be placed on his tongue without resistance. He's called upon, eventually, to murder the other child he's been trained alongside, and he does so without hesitation or mercy. He dons the black uniform and the pale mask and he carves himself into nothing more than a blade, and he lays himself in Danzō's hand. One day, he is promised, he'll be the weapon wielded to end Itachi's life.

…

And Sakura leaves. She does it out of mercy, she thinks at first. It's her fault, after all, that Kakashi is dead. That Sasuke is gone. That Naruto is alone. She knows nothing of their fates, and she dares not ask after them, because if she involves herself then, she's sure, she's just going to get in their way.

And it’s a guilt that she's finally realised she isn't strong enough to carry. She stood by, on the bridge, and she did nothing. It doesn't matter that she was Tazuna's last line of defence; Tazuna is dead. It doesn't matter that she was told to guard him; the man who gave that order is dead, too.

It's her fault, it's her fault, it's her fault, it's HER FAULT.

So she sneaks out, and she means it to be mercy, because the only way she can think of to make sure she never does it again – does nothing – is… if she's not around to. And it's mercy, really, if she doesn't force her parents to be the ones who find her. She's never been able to scrub her own skin free of the way Kakashi's had felt. Warm and faintly damp with sweat and smooth between the endless minute scars, cooling into tacky rigidity. He'd still looked like himself, when the ninken had got there, but he'd felt like stone under her hands. Like he wasn't real.

Like none of it was real.

Sakura decides, in the dead of night, that she's willing to give anything to make it not real.

And, in the end, someone extends mercy to her parents but it's not her. The first moment of freefall, when she jumps off the edge of the Hokage monument, is exhilarating. Freedom. Safety. She's going to escape, and she won't have to take down anyone else with her ever again.

The next few seconds overwhelm her with terror, and Sakura loses her grip on reality as it suddenly registers what her freedom really means, and as the ground hurtles up towards her, all Sakura can think is that she's afraid. Like she was on the bridge. Like maybe that's all there is, after all. Fear.

So when a pair of arms wraps around her and snatch her out of the air, Sakura clings on and sobs without knowing who it is that's saved her, or if it’s even real, and it feels like being on the bridge all over again. But the arms stay close, hold on tight, and eventually Sakura manages to remember how her senses work.

"... Gai-sensei?"

He's still dressed in his signature green jumpsuit, but there's a grimness to him that's unfamiliar. Holding her entire meagre weight close to his chest with just one arm, Gai brushes her hair back out of her face, sticky and matted with snot and tears. "It's going to be okay, Sakura." She can't wrap her head around why Gai's here. How is he here? But Gai glances at her at the same moment Sakura realises he's walking, and she can't get the whine in her throat to make any more words, but Gai seems to understand. "If you were to die now, then Kakashi died to protect you for no reason. And I know you don't want to squander that."

Her fault. But Gai says it differently. Like for her isn't the same as her fault. Was it for her? Sakura isn't sure of anything, anymore. If anyone knows, it must be Gai-sensei. A shudder goes through her, and she buries her face in Gai's shoulder. Her senses are screaming at her, her heart still wild and painful in her chest. It seems to think she's still falling to her death.

"... What can I do?" It was already squandered. Wasn't it? Sakura couldn't do anything. She'd stood by and watched.

But Gai grunts, pets her back. "It's never too late to stop giving up. Get strong. Protect the things Kakashi can't anymore. Protect yourself. Protect Konoha."

And it’s pathetic, but Sakura is pretty sure she's pathetic no matter what, so she scrunches up her hands in Gai's shirt, and wishes they would stop shaking so bad, and shakes her head. "I can't. I'm not strong. I'm… I'm not strong."

"You're here." She almost wasn't.

And the whine breaks out. "I'm here bec-cause I'm weak. B-because he was— was strong."

Gai hums. She can't tell if it's agreement or not. "So do him proud. I'll show you how." Gai loosens his grip, just a little, and picks up Sakura's head. Forces her to meet his gaze. His face is oddly shadowed in the moon- and lamplight. "It's not easy. It's never easy. But it's worth it. You're strong – let me show you just how strong you are."

They're on the other side of the village, Sakura thinks, now that she's looking around. Still shaking – shivering, really – but they're in a residential area, closer to the outskirts, where the houses have little gardens and families and—

Gai carries her to a house. Lee is on the porch, watching anxiously.

"Why are you doing this?" Sakura manages to ask, while Gai brings her inside, and carefully deposits her on a couch. Lee appears at his side a moment later, and he offers Sakura a glass of water. Automatically, she takes it, and Gai steadies her hands so she doesn't drop it. Their faces are blurry through her tears. "Why…?"

It's Lee who speaks up, and he's quieter than usual but no less intense. "Because when we lose a family member, we should come together to support each other." Gai nods, beams at Lee proudly. "Kakashi-sensei was Gai-sensei's family, so he was my family. And you're Kakashi-sensei's family, so you're our family."

The water tastes like adrenaline and steel when Sakura makes herself sip it, but the gentle chill of it diffuses in her chest and something she doesn't have words for eases slightly.

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Lee," Gai says, pulling Lee down into a hug with his free arm. "So. Let us help you be strong, like Kakashi wanted."

It's surreal. So many things have happened in so little time; a few minutes ago, Sakura had been convincing herself to jump from the top of the Hokage monument. How can this feel so different, so quickly? She's in— Is she in Gai-sensei's house? And it can't fucking be real – but nothing feels real anymore, hasn't for a while now, and… if anyone knows what Kakashi wanted, then it's Gai.

And it’s Gai.

… Can he really teach her strength? Does it matter?

"He's not totally gone while we remember him," Lee says quietly, and he lays a hand on Sakura's knee. "So if we do what he wanted, then it's like he accomplished his goals."

It doesn't make a lot of sense to Sakura, because Kakashi-sensei is definitely gone, but… Well, she can always jump off a high place later. Maybe they're right? Would Kakashi want her to learn strength from Gai?

Sakura drinks the rest of the water.

"Okay."

[silverstarlightlion]

SVSS is utterly fascinating as a story, and not just because of what it actually is. The whole thing is from Shen Qingqiu’s point of view - or Shen Yuan if you want to get technical. And I do, because Shen Yuan might settle into Qingqiu’s life so easily as to completely assimilate his name, but he does it in the same way that you or I would respond to the name of our character in a game of DnD. Yes, he lives his life as Qingqiu, he hacks into Shen Jiu’s memories, he embraces the consequences of his character and the potential futures he faces - but he still... thinks of it like a game.

It’s not explicit - it’s never explicit, because it’s not supposed to be. Shen Yuan is dead, and his world is gone. It may as well have been a dream on Shen Qingqiu’s part. Yes, a dream with incredibly specific and accurate information on the world and the people in it, information that he absolutely has no business knowing, but it’s basically the same thing as meta-gaming. He’s just meta-gaming a very elaborate tabletop game, and the System is his (admittedly bad) DM. And it shows. It shows in how he navigates the demon crypt temple thing I-forget-its-name, it shows in how he makes decisions based on the expected ripple effect due to characters he thinks he understands, on a plot that doesn’t even exist anymore - because it can’t, because he’s changed it - it shows in the way he speaks with other characters. Again, it’s never stated explicitly, but there are definite dialogue trees in how he interacts, and it’s not mirrored in any other character because he is not interacting with a game.

It’s not entirely his fault. He recognises what’s happened instantly, and the System signs on barely a moment later to explain to him, in no uncertain terms, that he is in control of a character account and must meet arbitrary rules, limits, goals, and deadlines or he will be expelled from the ‘game’. The System 100% treats the SVSS world like it is the DM, like the transmigrators are just players it has to try and bully into following the campaign it’s already planned out. And Shen Qingqiu buys it. He gets less mechanical, yes, after the various timeskips. The longer he lives in the world, the more real and familiar it feels, and the less fabricated his interactions become, but he never really... loses that aspect of it. There’s always an edge in the way he behaves. He spent so long maintaining Shen Qingqiu’s facade that whoever Shen Yuan really was underneath the propriety and the fans is... not gone, not at all, but it’s muddied. It’s impossible to tell where the character of Shen Qingqiu ends and Shen Yuan’s personhood begins.

And he’s the only character who behaves like this. Obviously, only Shang Qinghua even knows that the whole world was once a story - or at least, is one they know from a story, let’s not get into all the meta-discussion about that or the System here. And Qinghua was born into the world. He literally lived it out from infanthood, no matter however many years Qingqiu goes through in timeskips, he only arrived as a fully functioning adult in both instances. He stepped into someone else’s skin, and he learned how to walk in it so comfortably it feels almost like his own - but it isn’t. Qinghua knows, and he’s got the System prattling in his ear too, giving gods know what tasks and warnings and limits and threats, but he grew up in this world in a way Shen Yuan just didn’t. He relearned how to exist, how to function as a human being, he was immersed in the world’s culture and knowledge and growth in a way that Qingqiu wasn’t. And quite beyond that, Qinghua is the AUTHOR. He knows more about this world than anyone - he knows the things that slipped through the cracks, he understands what brought about so many little details that never would have made it into PIDW, historical quirks and moments and things that the people around him have never told anyone, and never will. He thinks of these people as his children, in a way, in the way a sculptor brings life into things that cannot move and yet speak to so many people all the same. I am an author and I know - I know that feeling. Shang Qinghua is a transmigrator, but he’s not the same as Qingqiu. He’s lived a whole lifetime in the SVSS world, and he’s lived in it before he ever transmigrated. The world is real to him, because he’s lived a dozen lifetimes there before he ever lived his own, because it was real even before he ended up there.

But Shen Qingqiu... just doesn’t have that. Yes, he feels deep and genuine feelings for these people, he lives his life there, he has no intention of leaving or trying to come back to his own - but he never loses that veneer of playing at this life. The end of SVSS is one part everything spiralling out of control, one part Qingqiu trying desperately to salvage something out of what could potentially be the end of these characters that he loves, and one part Qingqiu trying to win.

And he does love them. We love them. You can love things you can’t tangibly interact with, just like we do for every character we love, because that’s what fandom is. But Shen Yuan is still in there, the whole way through, and some part of him believes the System when it tells him - even without words - that the whole world is just a game.

And that’s fascinating, and tragic.

[silverstarlightwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Just started publishing this! It was meant to be a ficlet, but then it became 98 pages and over 60k long, soooooo. This is what I spent the last month writing instead of the next fatlb chapter, but oh well. It's completed, and goes up Wednesday and Saturday until fully published.

Hope y'all like vampires, and also intense amounts of authorial spite