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@uzchis
#UZCHIS āāā āā This is a next-gen Original Character for Masashi Kishimoto's Boruto series as well as a standalone for multi-verses, too. Please read the rules before following / interacting . est time zone . composed by esme
about , verse , headcanon . artwork
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sad bc thinking about young suen one day, unknowingly, blinking up at sasuke with incomplete sharingans, one tomoe in each eye and is confused and concerned when sasuke makes a complicated expression that he doesn't quite understand
Sasuke Uchiha [Naruto] by TsuyaNoUchi
https://tsuyanouchi.etsy.com
{x} | Artist: å «éå
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a hen in the wind (1948)
... i miss suen. but i don't think i can really write him anymore. can't even draw him either hhhaaaaaaa .
Nights with you, mornings with you, everything with you.
mi amor
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Satoshi's grip slowly loosened on his sleeve, but only enough that his hand slid to his wrist, the grip reaffirming there. At least he got an apology.
...But he didn't like what was said next. Not that he didn't expect something like that. He himself had been almost positive that experience would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Still, didn't mean he had to like or accept that answer.
A sudden tension resided in his shoulders then as he stared at Suen, some unrecognizable feeling settled in his gut. An uncomfortable and unwelcome feeling.
"--No. I'd rather my mother not get arrested. Why would I tell her something that'd send her on a rampage?"
"Just wanted to confirm my suspicions, is all." A part of him wanted to tell her though. Just so he could see that rampage. A very much deserved rampage. But he knew , much like Souta, that Satoshi didn't want to tell anyone. So if she couldn't do the rampage, then Suengri was completely fine going in her stead.
While not as hotblooded as his aunt or his grandmother, many have noted how his silence was often enough to send wary glances of concern. Sighing as if he were thinking of some chores he had to get to, blue hues shift to the younger. "You said the intelligence department, correct? Do you remember how many of them there were?" It didn't matter if he didn't or if he lied. He knew how to pinpoint targets, down to even their extended families they knew nothing about. A few years in the ANBU had at least taught him that.
DubheĀ āĀ SenderĀ wrapsĀ aĀ scarfĀ aroundĀ ReceiverāsĀ neck,Ā adjustingĀ itĀ carefully. (from homura)
š«š©Ā š©š«šØš¦š©šš¬Ā / @shinnogi
Suengri hadn't said anything. All it took was a small shiver from the autumn weather for Homura to pause, unravel his scarf, and then neatly wrap it around himself as if he's done it a dozen times before. It wasn't anyone's fault but his own for failing to layer up and yet, he was lent this accessory as a means of warmth while taking away from another.
Like when he was a child too slow to eat his ice-cream so it'd drip and stain his clothes. New ones were always given to him soon after. He tripped on some toys he'd forgotten to clean up earlier? He wasn't lectured. Instead, they were neatly placed away by someone else and he was tended to for any possible injuries. Maybe it's because he was always so sick as a child no one wanted to be too hard on him. But if he couldn't have an entirely normal childhood, then a scolding or two for accountability should have been one of them.
Flicking the tail end of the scarf, Suengri gazes at his cousins now retreating figure.
"Hey, I'm not a kid anymore, Homura. I won't get sick so easily just from this weather..." As he trailed after him, he began to think of ways to return it to him. But in his hand, the warmth of the material suddenly made him realize just how nice it felt against his cold fingers. Of course it did. Homura probably didn't buy anything less than perfect quality. He wonders if he learned to choose his clothes from Itachi or from Neji. Or maybe neither and it was all Hinata's doing. He can almost picture it. On days when things were too hectic, Hinata would take her nephews out shopping. One would play around while the other perhaps, paid attention to her commentary regarding quality materials and how to detect them.
An image of his own parents flashed in his head and before a sense of irritation could creep in, the younger caught up to his cousins pace. The thought of carelessly handling the scarf to return it makes him hesitate to do so. Instead, he bunches his hands in his pocket and sinks into the warmth once again. "... but please tell me you have more of these at home in case this one goes missing..."
He didn't want to talk about it. Doing so might reduce him to something he hated. A crybaby, unable to stop shaking and contain any modicum of pride or self respect. His mother had always told him it wasn't shameful to lean on anyone--but he'd never found it fair when he was the only one of her children that was capable of that.
...Why was it that he felt like the older one?
Screw it, trying to hurt him using his dad wasn't doing anything. Maybe he already had experience with that kind of talk...
"--Well, I just told you, didn't I? Don't make me repeat myself. I-I don't want to...!"
One hand suddenly gripped to his other sleeve. He hadn't stopped wearing long sleeves and oversized sweaters since that day, desperate to not let anyone see the scars left behind. Scars only he'd see whenever he needed to change his clothes.
An overwhelming sense of grief washed over him then and there. A once level headed gaze wavered in sorrow and empathy. Suddenly, he saw a mirage of his younger self in Satoshi's place. He wondered if he looked like that back then, too. The hospital bandages decorating his wrists and ankles were now wrapped in ninja cloths and some bracelets.
"... I'm sorry." He says, and he's isn't exactly sure what he's apologizing for. A multitude of things, really. That Satoshi had to go through such a thing, that he had to carry such abilities, that he was an Uzumaki, and that the world they lived in wasn't so kind to people... to children
Satoshi didn't have to go into detail for him to understand the gist of it all. He was like that, to. Thinking back on it now, he doesn't think he ever went into detail about his own trauma during captivity. If he knew Satoshi's reasoning, then he'd probably agree with it, too. "I wish I can say it gets better, but it doesn't. Not entirely. The scars fade but stay, time passes, and you learn to live with it. But you can't let it define you..." Whilst he wished his words were attempts at comfort, Suengri didn't have it in him to make up some bull. It just didn't sit right with him.
"Does Aunt Karin... know?"
new laptop is so pretty & clean ... . . .. i want to put stickers on it (ŹāæŹāæ)
@whispersofdeceit / cont. here
A single soft sigh escaped from Suengri's lips as he thought on how to respond. Talking with a teenager who held most of their bearings close to their chest was never an easy thing to do. He would know. A simple question of concern? He might as well have dug his own grave. But it wasn't exactly such a simple question, was it? Teenagers knew to sniff those kinds a mile away, and he couldn't blame them, either. He just wasn't in the mood for a fight the other seemed to beckon.
What's worse than asking a teenager about personal conflict? Lecturing them about it, too.
"I'm asking you, though because I want to hear it from you. Not someone else." Still, Suengri didn't flinch at the venomous words. He welcomed it, drowned in it because it was all he could do to try and understand his pain.
"You'd have to ask him yourself." He wasn't offering any excuses for his dad, but he wasn't willing to give Satoshi free reign of blind hatred on a sole entity, either. "But to believe that the title of Hokage gives you the right to ban and enact any and every law they wish is foolish. For that, you'll have to ask the Daimyo."
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š¦
i always created at least one promo in my other blogs but since suen is an oc, i find it harder to do this since his fc isn't 100% accurate and my artworks arent good enough to be turned into one hhh
