Just stories written while im on the toilet or in the restroom in general

Werewolf BL stories along with ABO and a Vampire story but mostly Werewolves.

- Current story - Paint Me - Wrath.
- Next story - Paint Me - Sloth.
- To Come - Paint Me - Pride

Reviews and comments welcomed.

Lesker

She shouldn't exist. Her kind of beauty shouldn't be real. Oh, the cosmos is just so cruel. A beautiful face with a heart of steel. Oh, I'm married to her now. No amount of Ambroisa can get rid of that.

I'm prince consort Lesker now, instead of useless scholar Lesker. My, how things change in such a short while. I suppose I should appreciate small miracles.

It was my first time painting in front of an audience. I was anxious but what could I do? I feared if I shamed the queen, she would have my head.

I look around and see the queen mother's encouraging face. I had wanted to paint the queen at first but the queen mother will do. And so, I painted. I was a lot nervous at first but brushing against the canvas repeatedly made me relax.

After I was done, I look at her for approval. Her eyes were indifferent but I see a little light in her eyes so I smile. I present the painting to my mother-in-law and I return to my seat.

The moment I was dreading came far too soon. We were to spend the night together. We walked in the corridor quietly, with me one step behind her.

She pushes the door to her room open and gives me a hard glare. I retreated a couple of steps and she enters. I enter after her and I could hear a small noise from her. She was annoyed with me in her room.

"I could leave if you wanted your majesty" I offer. I knew my way around the palace. I'm sure I could navigate the way without being seen.

"Stay" she says after a while. I sigh silently and sit on the couch in her room. She makes that sound again and I'm annoyed. Does she want me to stand?

I ignore her and make my self comfortable on the chair which wasn't that hard. I look up but she isn't there anymore. I hear sounds from the adjoining room. I assume she's in there, bathing.

She must've portaled there. I click my tongue, jealous. I wish I could portal out of here too but it must be impossible. Her room would be like the Abbot's house: impossible to portal in or out except for the Abbot.

I tap my hands rhythmically, bored of not doing anything. She emerges from the bathroom in a lace gown hugging her body dangerously. I catch myself before I stare too much.

"You can use the bathroom now" she says and I nod. I rush past her, eager to get rid of this ceremonial suit. My clothes are in the bathroom and I'm grateful to the maid that kept them there.

The bath is relaxing and I forget all my worries. Well, almost. Can't forget you're in a woman's bathroom that easily. I can't stay in there forever so I clean up and come out.

She's on the bed with a book in hand. She looks up briefly and looks back to her book. Thankfully, the bed is big so I slip into the other side. She might be mad but I'm way too tired for that.

I'm about to slip into peaceful slumber, aided by this soft pillows when I hear a loud slam.

"Look, just because you're married to me doesn't mean you can act how you like. You are nothing but deadweight to me" she says.

Ouch, that hurt. She didn't need to say all that though, I have no interest in laying a hand on her. I don't want to die you know.

"Okay your majesty. After tonight, I'll stick to my quarters and wouldn't bother with you" I reply, sleepily.
"Are you trying to say I'm not worthy of your attention? Are you insulting me?"

What the hell? What's wrong with this woman? She tells me to leave her alone and now she says this? She's fucked up.

"No, I didn't say that! What do you want from me?"
"I want you to grovel at my feet like the trash you are. I want you to serve me with your body and I want to suck your soul. I want to kill your spirit so all you depend on is me" her irises are black. She's above me and in her eyes,  is a vortex sucking me in.

She's toxic. She's insane. She's bad for me. Yet, a part of me is excited. My head clouds with lust and I find myself almost giving in. Telling her to take control of me. I stop just in time.

She shifts from me and says in a monotone voice;
"Paint for me"

It was an order. One I couldn't refuse. I'm about to tell her there are no tools there when I see a canvas on her balcony. I question myself if that was there before or it just appeared. It didn't matter.

I tiredly got up from the bed and went to paint. One look at the constellation, I decide to paint the moons.

By the time I was done, she was already fast asleep. Sighing, I dragged myself into the bed and wander off into dreamland as soon as my head hit the pillows.

The Kingdom of Ataliya has been ruled by the priestesses of Muni for over a million years. Queen Kohra is the chosen one and appointed when she reaches 18. The thing about her though, is that she's unwilling to chose a consort. 
Lesker is a scholar in the monastry of the god Burmi. He is chosen as the first consort for Kohra, the very stubborn queen.
What happens when intelligence clashes and fate draws this unlikely couple together? Find out, in the legend of Queen Kohra.

Volume 2: Era of Lesker
Lesker has lost his memory and found himself in a mysterious place without anything to go on with. The only thing he remembers are his name and something he must find. 
How is he going to survive, restore his memory and find what he's looking for? Find out in the Era of Lesker

Huan Hei wished that time would stop so that he could continue hugging Ya Nuo like this. She was sitting on his lap, and intertwining their fingers repeatedly. Everything had been peaceful for the past fifteen minutes that he forgot about Gu Wing's ruckus. 

Ya Nuo's sudden gasp reminded him that they still have a party to go back to. Normally, he would have snuck out secretly by himself already. Instead of entertaining clients and other people at the parties or business events, he'd rather be spending it with her. Since it is their engagement party, it is necessary for both of them to be present throughout the whole occasion. 

After the gasp, she told him what she saw and asked him what his thoughts were on Mei Ching's actions. He reviewed the photos that she took on her phone and managed to recognize the material through the picture. Since she rushed out of the stock room, she didn't remove the wooden block that was keeping the door opened. He wanted to confirm his thoughts, so he went into the dusty room to touch the supplies in the box. 

She asked him what he figured out from feeling the material in the box. He smirked, "Turn off the lights and you'll see. She's pretty smart for scheming something like this."

After turning off the lights, she saw the poster and handprints glowing slightly. She turned the lights back on, "Glow in the dark paint? The glow is still visible, though it is fading."

Huan Hei clapped his dirty hands and exited the room with her, "These type of paint is rare because under normal lighting, you will see either white or transparent. The handprints were white, but once the light is off, it will appear bloody red. I complimented her intelligence in using this method because this type of paint will slowly fade by itself within an hour or so after it's been used. As long as she stored these carefully, her plan would work out accordingly. The poster is even trickier compared to this paint. It is made of very thin glass that is custom made. The person who created this poster did a splendid job because it is very difficult to make an ultrathin bendable glass with engraved glow in the dark paint. Not only that, the creepy figure painted is detailed enough to trick me if I was the one who saw it in the middle of nowhere."

Ya Nuo snapped her finger and barged into the restroom to double check where the bathroom switch was located. "Even if the handprints, poster, and tactic to make Gu Wing use the third sink worked, the light switch is not located by the window. She couldn't have attached a long string from the stock room to the bathroom. Plus, I saw the lights flickering on and off rapidly when she was in the bathroom before she ran out of the bathroom."

Huan Hei stayed outside of the bathroom as they communicated, "Other than strings, she could have done this using a different method. Even without being inside the room, she could still control the light switch without touching the switch."

"Huh? How?"

Huan Hei beckoned her toward him with a hand movement as he quickly installed an app on his phone. She observed his phone carefully and saw that he was installing an application that is used to Bluetooth his phone to nearby light connections. 

He explained to her to make sure that they are on the same page, "As long as the lights allowed wireless access, anyone could control the lights from wherever they are. This is how I usually control the air conditioner and lamps in my room."

She patted his shoulder, "High tech. This old lady is all skin and bones. These high-tech stuffs are too updated for me to follow. I've heard of this, but never knew someone could easily do this to jeopardize our engagement party. I thought this is limited to households, but okay. Evidence proves me wrong. Now, more importantly, what's her purpose for doing this? Wait no, how did she prepare all this in such short notice? It's only a week or less since we sent out our engagement party invitations."

He whispered, "You can be skin and bones, but I'll be your flesh and blood to keep you going. Even though we sent the invitations pretty late, don't forget that she is under our care. Whatever information that is circulating in the family is first hand information. Actually, it was Yang Qiu Rei who chose this place for the engagement party, so... she must be super familiar with this place. Whatever her motive is, we will see in a moment. Let's go back to the party and see what Gu Wing is screaming about."

She punched him lightly on the chest, "Your lines get lamer. You need to learn some new slangs and lines. Let's go join the fun."

Walking through the crowd wasn't easy since everyone was surrounding Gu Wing and uploading her live on their social media. It's been twenty minutes, and Qiu Rei gave up in trying to calm her down. When they finally got through the crowd and saw Gu Wing, she was on the floor looking as if she had seen a ghost. 
Her hair was disheveled from her aggressive scratching and her panties were still on her legs dangling for attention. She was anxiously shaking Qiu Rei's arm telling him that Ying Ying's spirit came to drag her to the depths of hell with her. Her body trembled vigorously as she stood directly below the air conditioner. The more she shivered and felt chills down her spine, the scarier she became. 

Her voice raised in volume and from begging for help, she transitioned to chanting sutras for protection. Qiu Rei couldn't take her chaotic behavior and violently gripped her wrists to pull her to a private guest room. Everyone murmured amongst themselves and some had the nearest mental institution's number ready for dial on their phone screen. 

Once they got ot the room, Qiu Rei shoved her to the floor and fixed his sleeves while maintaining his tight fists within her sight, "Shut the hell up. You've been blabbing about Ying Ying this and Ying Ying that. Would you stop pretending already? She's been dead and more then six feet underground. By now, she would've been the insects lunch by her area. What evil spirit? Grim reaper? Bullshit! Do you hear what I'm spitting out of my mouth? It doesn't even make any sense! So wake up, you were hallucinating or something. Gather yourself together and then step out on your own. If not, don't come out at all."

He turned around to leave, but she used her body weight to lock his legs in place, "You can't go! She's coming back. She will come to target me, then you. She wants us to join her in hell. She... she was in the mirror earlier. She is angry, angry that she's alone and forgotten!"

Qiu Rei squatted down and lifted her chin, "There is no such thing as spirits. The only ghost that exist is in that rotten heart of yours. If you didn't do anything bad to her, you wouldn't be this scared when you thought you saw her earlier. It's either that or you are just trying to ruin this great engagement night and our corporations' reputation. If you continue this, I ensure you that once you get back home, you'll see signed divorce papers on the desk."

She continued gripping on his pants tightly, unwilling to let go, "Please! Believe in me this one time! She was really there! I saw her!!! She had her arms and long nails aiming towards me. She wanted to kill me! She doesn't want us to be happy."

Qiu Rei rubbed his temples to soothe his headache,"I asked you this question years ago. I told you that if you were honest with me, then everything would be okay. Now, I am going to ask you one last time and this is the last chance you have to spit out the truth, if you didn't already tell me it. Were you in any way responsible for Ying Ying's death?"

The warmth of the sunlight that was shining through the window landed on the girl's flawless face. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly as her hands clenched onto her blanket tightly. She chanted, "No! No! Don't.. please.. I beg you stop! Ahh!!" She gasped for breath as she wiped the layer of cold sweat off her forehead. She looked at her phone and laid in bed after realizing that she was in her apartment. 'I'm safe.. it's alright.. safe..' After calming down, she took a quick shower and looked into the mirror. "Yang Ya Nuo! you got this! New day, new beginning!" She got dressed in a male school uniform and applied her makeup and wig. Within the next 15 minutes, her beautiful jade like face transformed into a handsome young man's face. "Aha! That should do it! Handsome like always. Breakfast time~" 
Since young, Ya Nuo learned how to change her voice to sound like a male's voice in case she needed it one day. Unlike girls at her age who liked to hang out with friends and go shopping, she only loves one thing, food! She works three part time jobs and is attending a famous school on a scholarship that covers full tuition. 
She cheerfully walked to the kitchen to see what's there to make for breakfast. When she opened the fridge, she saw nothing, but a piece of sausage inside. Sigh.. "I paid for rent and ran out of money to restock for grocery."
Ding Dong
"Who is it?" she said in a grumpy tone.
"Yo!" Xu Huan Hei greeted her with a hand wave.
"Is it time already? There's still half an hour before the usual time you come to get me for school." 
"Nope! But I do have something I want to discuss with you." he smiled dazzlingly. He was the school's second most popular guy that every female wished to date. The number one ranked male student was Ya Nuo. These two met each other at a young age, but due to some reason Huan Hei never found out about her female gender. 
"I'm hungry. Let's talk food first."
"Here~ i already prepared a bag of groceries and two bacon, egg, and sausage for you" he winked.
Ya Nuo smirked, "Oh? Seems like it's something important hmm? Alright, let me enjoy my breakfast as we discuss your 'favor.'"
In the middle of enjoying her bacon, egg, and sausage, she suddenly spit out the mouthful of food onto Huan Hei. 
"will you be my girlfriend?" he asked confidently.
"Are you crazy?? I'm a guy! 100% male!"
"But you are so pretty, even girls say you have feminine features. I'm sure with a little makeup you'll look very cute!"
"... what's your reason?"
"A girl keeps pestering me and chasing after me to get into a relationship with her. I told her for the past two years that I'm not interested in any relationships, but she refused to listen. I accidentally slipped out and said I actually have a girlfriend... so she asked to meet her.. and I didn't have anyone that is trustworthy enough for this job."
"No."
"Pretty please"
"No!"
"Come on~ I'll buy you lunch~"
"I'm not that cheap."
"Fine, 3 months worth of lunch and groceries!"
"Deal."
In the meantime, at a luxurious restaurant, a man with gray hair sipped his wine, "Did you guys find her yet?"
"No.. sir"
"Then why are you here? Go! Find her and bring her here! Don't come back and report bullshit to me!"
"Yes!"

*THERE IS NO RAPE OR ANY SEXUAL ASSAULT IN THIS NOVEL. BUT WARNING OF 18+ CONTENT*

The book cover is not mine, credits go to the original author. This novel is an original written by me, so please don’t post it anywhere else.

On the sixth day that Yujia stayed at Lingxin, she went over to her master's residence with a completed painting in her hand. She worked on it for quite a while, in comparison to some of the mountain paintings that she finished in an hour or two. 
This painting focused on something that Yujia hadn't worked much on before. Contrary to her usual vague scenic paintings, this one depicted a detailed, up-close branch of soft pink plum blossoms next to two jagged boulders. She drew it with inspiration to a large plum tree planted in the middle of the courtyard she stayed in. Though the flowers had long fallen off, she could still imagine how beautiful the sight would be when they bloomed. Thus, she decided to paint them. 
Over the past few days, she spent a lot of time in the outside air of her courtyard, observing the branches of plum and sketching them for reference. Then, a day ago, she began to paint once she was certain that she had enough of an understanding of the structure of the tree. 
Yujia found that there were definitely a lot of benefits to staying at Lingxin, if one were to consider for the sake of art. Almost every single area that one could find at the academy was picturesque with all sorts of flowers and plants. Once Yujia was finished with mastering how to paint the plum trees, she would move on to learn how to paint all the other plant specimens. This made sure that she always had something to do. She would never run out of things to paint. 
The courtyard that Yujia resided in wasn't too shabby in other aspects either. It wasn't just all the greenery planted throughout that made the courtyard a marvelous place to live in. Everything else about it was also tended to in a careful manner, from the wood used to create the floors, walls, and ceiling, to the perfectly matching furniture and decoration within the rooms. 
In fact, perhaps the best of all, was that the entire courtyard belonged to Yujia. She didn't need to share it with anyone else. It was definitely small in size, but there were three separate rooms within the courtyard: a bathroom, bedroom, and overall living room. This was a definite upgrade in comparison to the South Courtyard that the Fourth Miss lived in, where all the functions of daily life was jammed into one small room. 
The bathroom was what Yujia found most stunning. In it was a large carved out bathing area on the elevated floor where water could be deposited. She tried it out when she first arrived, and it definitely felt more luxurious than anything she ever encountered so far. A wooden tub just couldn't compare to an almost pool-like structure existing for only her use. It was also nice to know that she could take frequent baths— it seemed like staying clean was the greatest luxury of all.
It was also the existence of this structure also made Yujia a little curious with everything else in the courtyard. Somehow, everything seemed more… technologically advanced. The bathtub could hold hot water, even temperatures outside were chilly, for an extended amount of time. The chamber pots were attached to the floor and had a rudimentary "flushing" function, involving a small well of water built into the bathroom itself and a water scoop. The drawing desk in the living room had a drawer built underneath it to store supplies like brushes. The bedroom had a mini-fan that functioned like one in the modern world as long as one pulled on a string that made the blades in the fan spin. 
This certainly raised Yujia's suspicions. Everything was still crude enough to resemble lots of the objects in this time period— there definitely weren't televisions or electricity-powered things— except the ideas, such as a flushable toilet and a fan with spinning blades, mimicked some of the things that could be found in modern times. To any normal person living in this time period, things may seem a little peculiar, but not too attention-catching. 
Yujia, meanwhile, wasn't any normal person. To someone like her with a taste of modern life, there was an obvious sense of familiarity to the objects in this particular courtyard that her master gave her. 
Keeping her suspicions in mind, Yujia decided that it was yet another mystery to add on her list of things to solve. She wasn't sure what the reason was behind all of this, or even if there was any reason in the first place. Since she was heading over to her master to ask for critiques, perhaps it would be a good idea to ask him?
Quickly, however, she paused these thoughts when she arrived at her master's courtyard. It wasn't too far from Yujia's courtyard, and she memorized the structure of the residences at Lingxin fairly well too. 
There were two main "villas", one where her master resided alone, and one where Ye Yunhe and his father lived. Yujia was organized to live with her master, since he had many empty courtyards. He lived in the Osmanthus Courtyard. Yujia was given the Plum Courtyard. There were two other courtyards: the Lotus Courtyard for other guests, and the Winter Courtyard for servants. Conveniently, her courtyard was situated adjacent to her master's, so it didn't take long for her to arrive. 
Now that all the matters involving her marriage ended and she was fairly stress-free, Yujia finally decided to spend some time with art. Along with the reawakening of her passion for art, Yujia also began to want to truly improve, for the first time in years. She created artwork not for the purpose of profit, but her own growth in skill. This was a sensation that felt almost foreign to her. 
Putting her painting down on the table between both of them, Yujia greeted her master briefly and showed him the piece that she had been working on. Hesitantly, she inquired, "How… do you feel about it?"
Her master looked up at her, then moved his gaze down on the painting, staring at it for a long, tense moment. Yujia felt that her palms began to sweat as she waited for his response with both worry and a desire for praise. It would be a reassuring feeling for someone to acknowledge all of her hard work with this one painting. 
Instead of giving his instant opinion, her master asked back, "Did you paint the plum tree in your courtyard?"
Yujia nodded. 
Seeing her response, he sighed, then stated his next words with a blank gaze. 
"This painting is trash."


At 24 years old, Yang Yujia is an unemployed art major, living off heavy debt and instant noodles, both of her irresponsible parents refusing to support her. During a high-school reunion, Yujia gets drunk, does stupid things, and when she wakes up again, Yujia is no longer in the correct world, time-period, or body. 

Unfortunately, as a transmigrator, Yujia does not seem to have much luck either— instead of transmigrating with a set of stunning martial arts skills, knowledge that would aid her in troubling situations, or a position of royalty that would make her life much easier, Yujia is the fourth (illegitimate) daughter of a small merchant. And what skills does she have to help her survive this world?

A pretty face, witty mouth, and useless artistic talent?

Good enough. 

...

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Fic Type:Si
Si as Sasori with artistic tendencies. 
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Instruments of Manipulation 

By: Mizudoriko  
Sometimes, life gives him existential crises. Other times, it drowns him in paint and toxic fumes only for him to wake up in a hospital of a fictional world. Then he realizes he'd somehow hijacked the body of a canon character who got killed by Sakura and shit just got real. All he wanted to do was finish the final project of his art major. Sasori did not sign up for this insanity.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Sasori, Chiyo - Chapters: 17 - Words: 47,908 - Reviews: 164 - Favs: 386 - Follows: 486 - Updated: Sep 1, 2019 - Published: Jun 9, 2019 - id: 13307196 

Link:https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13307196/1/Instruments-of-Manipulation
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1

I own my idea, not Naruto.

He supposes that there were better ways to go, because honestly, how many people would die via drowning in paint?
Apparently, he does.
In his defense, he was extremely sleep deprived and procrastinating heavily on an art project that he needed to turn in the very next day. This project also coincidentally had his entire art major hinging off of it.
It was also three in the morning.
There was never a time that he cursed his fatal procrastination issues. Especially since his procrastination issues turned out to be literally fatal.
Funny how that worked out, huh?
The combination of toxic fumes from the various open paint cans and him being literally dead on his feet caused him to pass out into one of those various cans of paint he had lying next to the canvas. That was apparently enough to kill him. Well, he's assuming that he's dead since the last thing he remembers is the paint filling his screaming lungs. He feels that his chances of survival from that incident are pretty low. It's not as if anyone will check on him for the next few hours.
Now, all he can see is….blaring orange? What?
His knee jerk reaction is to move and open his eyes, to his overwhelming surprise, he's capable of doing both.
'I thought I was dead? Well, hey, I'm not going to complain. Now all I need to do is just convince the hospital staff to let me leave so I can finish my—'
"He's awake!"
He jerks his head towards the sudden sound, concern blossoming immediately because the person who spoke looks like they walked straight out of some sort of live action version of Naruto.
The Suna hitai ate kinda gave it away. He's got to give them credit though, the costume is really well done and the scars even look real—Oh dear God, they are real. Well, they must be extremely dedicated? He just wants to know why they're in the same room as him and where the nurses are so he can check out.
Or he's delusional.
Yeah, that sounds about right, he's still high off of the fumes.
"Sasori?"
The new voice caused him to turn away from the eccentric "actor" only for him to be faced with someone he could only call the living clone of Chiyo.
'Wow, I want to see this movie when it comes out, they have really good actors. Kudos to the director. That and it's high time I got back to binge-watching Naruto...just...after I finish my project.'
Seeing that the situation is getting interesting he decides to wait, he has a viable excuse for turning in his project late...the professor likes him, that should count for something, right? Right?! He really hopes that he doesn't have to retake the entire course, that would suck. Big time.
Four years down the drain.
Besides, she said Sasori and he wants to see what the actor for them looks like.
"Sasori, are you alright?"
Suddenly, the situation doesn't seem so amusing anymore, because the Chiyo look-alike is looking directly at him when she said that.
For the first time since he woke up, he realizes that something is horribly, horribly wrong. The fuzziness in his head clears as panic and adrenaline sets in because something isn't right and it's him. Looking down, he sees small childish fingers clutching the hospital issued blankets tight enough for the knuckles to turn white. These are not his fingers, these are not the fingers of an art major college student. His hands are supposed to be calloused, slightly cracked, his nails are supposed to be chipped from the pottery wheel—where are the paint stains? His hands for the past two years had been permanently stained with paint.
His beloved paint, what about his paintings?
Calm down. Stop. Hyperventilating.
Breathe in.
Out.
In.
Hold.
Count to ten.
Exhale.
Wait, that's not right...no, don't think about that.
He focuses on his breathing, vaguely aware that the Chiyo actress rushes toward him in alarm while the other actor in the room hurries out of the room calling for a nurse.
Finally unable to take it anymore, he pushes his way out of the unwanted embrace, stumbling onto the cold sterile floors.
Oh, the pattern is nice, it's a variation of windmill combined with a basket weave.
He barely registers that he doesn't have any shoes on, just that he is much, much shorter than he is supposed to be.
Somehow, he manages to choke his next words out, voice soft and small and—and so very alien,
"Ba-bathroom?"
Chiyo's—he realizes that this is no longer a show, but if he is right then-then he's...he doesn't want to finish that thought—concern lessens somewhat as she gets off of the hospital bed, gesturing for him to follow.
He follows her, ignoring her concerned glances back at him
They reach the bathroom without much fanfare, he goes in, opening the door mind still in an uproar. Seeing the mirror hanging above a sink, he makes a beeline for it.
Gazing back at him are hazel eyes, messy red hair, and a face that is most certainly not his. He used to be one of those people whose face no one ever remembers, average and plain.
But this one, this one certainly won the genetic lottery because there is no way eyes are supposed to be able to be that large, nevermind that they're half closed.
Huh, how large can they get if he opens them all the way?
Ooooh, bad idea, he looks unhinged.
Slapping his cheeks in an attempt to snap himself out of his tangent, he breathes out a sigh.
'I am so, so dead.'
Because if he's right—he's pretty sure he's right—then he somehow became an anime character of all things and one that gets killed off to boot. Even if he does get killed off somewhere in his midlife crisis, there is no way the 'Must-become-a-puppet-because-dear-lord-my-face-just-spawned-a-wrinkle' phase is not a mid-life crisis.
'Am I dissing myself? Wait, technically we are different people right? Canon? Oh no, CANON!'
He's coping surprisingly well, the new chibi face might have something to do with it.
'But I don't wanna die again, besides, stabbed to death by puppets is super melodramatic…'
As he is pondering—gushing, he's gushing—his new face and identity, Chiyo knocks on the door,
"Sasori, are you alright?"
Well...he forgot that his new grandmother existed, a prime example of what not to do when you wake up in someone else's body. Especially if you wake up an Uchiha, because you never know, the massacre might be just around the corner. Which is why he is eternally glad that his character only has one family member left and no parents, it'll be significantly easier to adapt. Parents will know immediately that something is wrong, but from what he remembers of the anime, Chiyo never really knew much about her grandson, or maybe she was just being distant?
Wait, are his parents still alive at this point?
When did Sasori's parents become his? He has perfectly functioning ones. Oh wait, maybe when he woke up in someone else's body. 
He shoos those thoughts into a filing cabinet in his mind, he'll ponder them later, because he suspects if he takes too long to answer his grandma will literally break down the bathroom door. After walking towards the door and turning the knob, he hesitantly opens it, peering up at the elderly woman.
What comes out of his mouth next is entirely unintentional,
"I forbid you to murder me, Grandma."
Inwardly he's freaking out because that was not what he meant to say, he keeps his face carefully blank as Chiyo's features flash through a multitude of emotions—confusion, horror, sorrow, and funnily enough, exasperation.
He wonders if such statements coming from the previous Sasori were normal occurrences.
"Sasori, where did you get that idea?"
He pauses, tilting his head in thought, it's not as if he can just say, "Yeah, I'm not actually your grandson but I do know that you kill him in the future with puppets of his mother and father because karma is like that," because that will go over so well.
He settles for,
"Because I might make you mad with what I'm going to say next?"
Chiyo, smiles at him, joints creaking while crouching down so that he's eye level,
"I promise not to be mad."
He lets go of the door, and looks down at his chubby fingers, bringing them together in what he hopes looks like hesitancy and guilt.
Actually no, to hell with it, he's done with life right now,
"I seem to have developed a fascinating case of amnesia. Though I would be more enthused if only it weren't so inconvenient."
He turns his head back up just in time to watch horror and even more sorrow war their way across her face.
"You don't...remember?"
He shakes his head.
They stand there in silence while his statement sinks in.
"You don't remember anything? Anything at all?"
He shuffles his feet a little, fidgeting under her hopeful gaze because now is the moment guilt sets in,
"...no."
She looks like her world just shattered and he winces internally.
'It's better this way, at least I probably won't be betraying and leaving the village. There is no way anyone is going to make me touch Akatsuki with a forty-two million feet pole.'
"Ah...I see," Chiyo doesn't look like she's seeing much of anything, staring blankly off into space, "Come, I'll get check you out of the hospital and we'll go home."
She stands up, still trancelike, and walks down the hall, this time not bothering to see if he's following. Chiyo doesn't appear to be computing anything, hopefully, she wouldn't be so negligent normally? He scrambles after her, hastily shutting the bathroom door behind him and slipping his small hand into her loose ones. Chiyo snaps out of her shock, turning her head down towards him in askance,
"If you fill me in, perhaps I'll remember?"
Her eyes widen a little before softening, she gives him a shaky smile,
"Of course."
Ugh, now he feels worse than dirt for leading her on like that because there's no way he'll remember something that didn't even happen to him. And everything he's done up to this point has only been centered around him, with barely any consideration for his grandmother.
He remembers reading something about Sasori somewhere online, 'Why become a criminal and disappoint your grandma when you could have been an awful babysitter?'
'I just hope I don't actually get stuck with the Sand sibs, that would be a whole 'nother level of chaos.'

So I had a plan...a perfectly good one, one that includes focusing on the few fics I have.
And then this happened.
Do I regret it? No.
Will I ask myself why later? Definitely.
Do I know where this is going? Ask me a few years later and I might have an answer.
Anyway! Thanks for reading!

A collection of novels that I enjoyed. I am posting this due to lack of good mcs on this site. 
I will mostly post stories where mc is calm or rational for the most part. I will be posting the first chapters of all novels in it, you can just go to their respective sites for more and support the authors.
Inspired by 'My Self-Insert Stash '. 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the stories mentioned here.

I own my idea, not Naruto.

He supposes that there were better ways to go, because honestly, how many people would die via drowning in paint?

Apparently, he does.

In his defense, he was extremely sleep deprived and procrastinating heavily on an art project that he needed to turn in the very next day. This project also coincidentally had his entire art major hinging off of it.

It was also three in the morning.

There was never a time that he cursed his fatal procrastination issues. Especially since his procrastination issues turned out to be literally fatal.

Funny how that worked out, huh?

The combination of toxic fumes from the various open paint cans and him being literally dead on his feet caused him to pass out into one of those various cans of paint he had lying next to the canvas. That was apparently enough to kill him. Well, he's assuming that he's dead since the last thing he remembers is the paint filling his screaming lungs. He feels that his chances of survival from that incident are pretty low. It's not as if anyone will check on him for the next few hours.

Now, all he can see is….blaring orange? What?

His knee jerk reaction is to move and open his eyes, to his overwhelming surprise, he's capable of doing both.

'I thought I was dead? Well, hey, I'm not going to complain. Now all I need to do is just convince the hospital staff to let me leave so I can finish my—'

"He's awake!"

He jerks his head towards the sudden sound, concern blossoming immediately because the person who spoke looks like they walked straight out of some sort of live action version of Naruto.

The Suna hitai ate kinda gave it away. He's got to give them credit though, the costume is really well done and the scars even look real—Oh dear God, they are real. Well, they must be extremely dedicated? He just wants to know why they're in the same room as him and where the nurses are so he can check out.

Or he's delusional.

Yeah, that sounds about right, he's still high off of the fumes.

"Sasori?"

The new voice caused him to turn away from the eccentric "actor" only for him to be faced with someone he could only call the living clone of Chiyo.

'Wow, I want to see this movie when it comes out, they have really good actors. Kudos to the director. That and it's high time I got back to binge-watching Naruto...just...after I finish my project.'

Seeing that the situation is getting interesting he decides to wait, he has a viable excuse for turning in his project late...the professor likes him, that should count for something, right? Right?! He really hopes that he doesn't have to retake the entire course, that would suck. Big time.

Four years down the drain.

Besides, she said Sasori and he wants to see what the actor for them looks like.

"Sasori, are you alright?"

Suddenly, the situation doesn't seem so amusing anymore, because the Chiyo look-alike is looking directly at him when she said that.

For the first time since he woke up, he realizes that something is horribly, horribly wrong. The fuzziness in his head clears as panic and adrenaline sets in because something isn't right and it's him. Looking down, he sees small childish fingers clutching the hospital issued blankets tight enough for the knuckles to turn white. These are not his fingers, these are not the fingers of an art major college student. His hands are supposed to be calloused, slightly cracked, his nails are supposed to be chipped from the pottery wheel—where are the paint stains? His hands for the past two years had been permanently stained with paint.

His beloved paint, what about his paintings?

Calm down. Stop. Hyperventilating.

Breathe in.

Out.

In.

Hold.

Count to ten.

Exhale.

Wait, that's not right...no, don't think about that.

He focuses on his breathing, vaguely aware that the Chiyo actress rushes toward him in alarm while the other actor in the room hurries out of the room calling for a nurse.

Finally unable to take it anymore, he pushes his way out of the unwanted embrace, stumbling onto the cold sterile floors.

Oh, the pattern is nice, it's a variation of windmill combined with a basket weave.

He barely registers that he doesn't have any shoes on, just that he is much, much shorter than he is supposed to be.

Somehow, he manages to choke his next words out, voice soft and small and—and so very alien,

"Ba-bathroom?"

Chiyo's—he realizes that this is no longer a show, but if he is right then-then he's...he doesn't want to finish that thought—concern lessens somewhat as she gets off of the hospital bed, gesturing for him to follow.

He follows her, ignoring her concerned glances back at him

They reach the bathroom without much fanfare, he goes in, opening the door mind still in an uproar. Seeing the mirror hanging above a sink, he makes a beeline for it.

Gazing back at him are hazel eyes, messy red hair, and a face that is most certainly not his. He used to be one of those people whose face no one ever remembers, average and plain.

But this one, this one certainly won the genetic lottery because there is no way eyes are supposed to be able to be that large, nevermind that they're half closed.

Huh, how large can they get if he opens them all the way?

Ooooh, bad idea, he looks unhinged.

Slapping his cheeks in an attempt to snap himself out of his tangent, he breathes out a sigh.

'I am so, so dead.'

Because if he's right—he's pretty sure he's right—then he somehow became an anime character of all things and one that gets killed off to boot. Even if he does get killed off somewhere in his midlife crisis, there is no way the 'Must-become-a-puppet-because-dear-lord-my-face-just-spawned-a-wrinkle' phase is not a mid-life crisis.

'Am I dissing myself? Wait, technically we are different people right? Canon? Oh no, CANON!'

He's coping surprisingly well, the new chibi face might have something to do with it.

'But I don't wanna die again, besides, stabbed to death by puppets is super melodramatic…'

As he is pondering—gushing, he's gushing—his new face and identity, Chiyo knocks on the door,

"Sasori, are you alright?"

Well...he forgot that his new grandmother existed, a prime example of what not to do when you wake up in someone else's body. Especially if you wake up an Uchiha, because you never know, the massacre might be just around the corner. Which is why he is eternally glad that his character only has one family member left and no parents, it'll be significantly easier to adapt. Parents will know immediately that something is wrong, but from what he remembers of the anime, Chiyo never really knew much about her grandson, or maybe she was just being distant?

Wait, are his parents still alive at this point?

When did Sasori's parents become his? He has perfectly functioning ones. Oh wait, maybe when he woke up in someone else's body.

He shoos those thoughts into a filing cabinet in his mind, he'll ponder them later, because he suspects if he takes too long to answer his grandma will literally break down the bathroom door. After walking towards the door and turning the knob, he hesitantly opens it, peering up at the elderly woman.

What comes out of his mouth next is entirely unintentional,

"I forbid you to murder me, Grandma."

Inwardly he's freaking out because that was not what he meant to say, he keeps his face carefully blank as Chiyo's features flash through a multitude of emotions—confusion, horror, sorrow, and funnily enough, exasperation.

He wonders if such statements coming from the previous Sasori were normal occurrences.

"Sasori, where did you get that idea?"

He pauses, tilting his head in thought, it's not as if he can just say, "Yeah, I'm not actually your grandson but I do know that you kill him in the future with puppets of his mother and father because karma is like that," because that will go over so well.

He settles for,

"Because I might make you mad with what I'm going to say next?"

Chiyo, smiles at him, joints creaking while crouching down so that he's eye level,

"I promise not to be mad."

He lets go of the door, and looks down at his chubby fingers, bringing them together in what he hopes looks like hesitancy and guilt.

Actually no, to hell with it, he's done with life right now,

"I seem to have developed a fascinating case of amnesia. Though I would be more enthused if only it weren't so inconvenient."

He turns his head back up just in time to watch horror and even more sorrow war their way across her face.

"You don't...remember?"

He shakes his head.

They stand there in silence while his statement sinks in.

"You don't remember anything? Anything at all?"

He shuffles his feet a little, fidgeting under her hopeful gaze because now is the moment guilt sets in,

"...no."

She looks like her world just shattered and he winces internally.

'It's better this way, at least I probably won't be betraying and leaving the village. There is no way anyone is going to make me touch Akatsuki with a forty-two million feet pole.'

"Ah...I see," Chiyo doesn't look like she's seeing much of anything, staring blankly off into space, "Come, I'll get check you out of the hospital and we'll go home."

She stands up, still trancelike, and walks down the hall, this time not bothering to see if he's following. Chiyo doesn't appear to be computing anything, hopefully, she wouldn't be so negligent normally? He scrambles after her, hastily shutting the bathroom door behind him and slipping his small hand into her loose ones. Chiyo snaps out of her shock, turning her head down towards him in askance,

"If you fill me in, perhaps I'll remember?"

Her eyes widen a little before softening, she gives him a shaky smile,

"Of course."

Ugh, now he feels worse than dirt for leading her on like that because there's no way he'll remember something that didn't even happen to him. And everything he's done up to this point has only been centered around him, with barely any consideration for his grandmother.

He remembers reading something about Sasori somewhere online, 'Why become a criminal and disappoint your grandma when you could have been an awful babysitter?'

'I just hope I don't actually get stuck with the Sand sibs, that would be a whole 'nother level of chaos.'

So I had a plan...a perfectly good one, one that includes focusing on the few fics I have.

And then this happened.

Do I regret it? No.

Will I ask myself why later? Definitely.

Do I know where this is going? Ask me a few years later and I might have an answer.

Anyway! Thanks for reading!

Not Mine

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13551553/1/

A hockey stick rested on her shoulders as one hand opened the door. The key sunk into the key hole, turned slightly and the door swung open letting her into the nice and comfy home that was once her refuge. The place reminded her of the days of laughter and gloom sometimes. Sometimes sleepless nights of passion and other times just calm acquiescence as they worked. It reminded her of calm days that no one talked yet both found a sense of peace because they were together. Days of pranks as she was tickled when all she wanted to do was run to the bathroom to be relieved. Late phone calls at night that was dismissed. 
The hockey stick swung down on the glass table leaving a web of cracks when she recalled the late phone calls. A flower vase made of clay landed on the floor breaking into smithereens. A cup left on the table during the morning rush shook and landed on the floor, breaking into two. Another swing and the table crashed down. The lawyer in her forgot the vocabulary vandalism, trespass and breaking and entry. It wasn't trespass if she had a key, right? That consolation riled her up as she climbed on the sofa and crushed the picture frames of his travel photos. The hockey stick swept through the glasses as she lightly dragged it on the floor. A face scrunched in contemplation seemed to guide her slow quiet steps to a painting. Her heart rose in thrill, a wicked smile plastered her face as her hands reached out for the precious painting. The painting was unlatched from the wall and carefully placed on the sofa set. Its beauty got distorted as her heart glowed in satisfaction with every swing of the hockey stick. 
♫It's a little bit too late to say that you are sorry now, you kicked me into the ground...♫
The phone sought her attention. It was a delivery notification. Perfect! She let the hockey stick down and strode to the door, opening it slightly and taking the box after confirming and paying for the delivery. Online shopping can be quite convenient at times like this, she mused. She had just gotten started. The box was settled on the sofa with the smashed painting as she headed to the cabinet containing his lovely collection of wine. Nope, she did not have the strength to open the cabinet but she had enough energy to swing a hockey stick at it. The cabinet door crushed, a hand slid the remnants of the door aside, ignoring the resulting scratches and cuts by the glass on her hands. May be a little first aid won't hurt; she grabbed one bottle of red wine, opened it and poured it on her hand as she strolled to the bathroom to take a bucket. The wine swirled from the bottle to her hand and landed on the floor, staining both the tiles and carpeted areas. The emptied wine bottle flew to the wall, crushing and scattering on the floor. Non-nonchalantly, she dropped bottle after bottle of wine into the bucket she picked from the bathroom. Wine seeped from the bottles and streamed into the bucket. After half crashing bottles and half pouring the wine into the bucket, she carried it to the bedroom. May be a cocktail will do, she thought as she passed the kitchen. The watermelon that was lying on the kitchen counter was smashed and swept into the wine bucket. Bananas were peeled and thrown into the cocktail bucket. Exquisite! She smiled as she poured the contents on the well-made bed. She stood aside to admire her work of art that seeped through the bed covers, sheets and blanket.
He painted the town red with an engagement; she would paint his house rainbow. The delivery box contained enamel paint in all the colours of the rainbow. Arcobaleno! She retrieved the paint and poured it whenever she walked, from the sofas in the sitting room to the bed mat by the wet bed. The fruit flies that had already gathered on the bed were picturesque, she thought. Yellow paint ran down the smart TV and smudged evenly to completely cover it. As a finishing touch, she spray painted the wall, drawing a joker-face caricature. Under it was written the words '5 years of a joke summed by one day of this joke. Stay humored. Oh, I took the lap'. If five years was a joke that could end in one day, then this one day was hers to also humor him. 
She threw the spray can down after further doodles and a notice that she had taken his laptop as payment. The hockey stick was abandoned in the wreckage while she stepped out of the room like the O.G, a laptop bag on her shoulder and the sounds of Ludacris' 'move bitch get out of the way' bursting through her earphones. Her kinky hair puffed up carelessly and came together at the back, tamed by a thin black hair bobble with silver colored balls. The hair bobble's black strands camouflaged with her hair as the silver balls gave it the right amount of color. Tiny wisps of hair scattered at the front, complementing her rough look. As she looked up with her lively eyes, the round and white globes accentuated by dark pupils pierced through everyone, uninviting. A smile drew one to her round face with chubby cheeks and sepia brown lips lightly touched by gloss. A white off-shoulder chiffon shirt contrasted the black high waist short that flattered her curves, neither being too tight nor too loose. The ground seemed to be frozen by every confident step she made, brown timberland boots settling on her feet like they were meant for each other.
Whoa, such a satisfying feeling!
And such little courage to go crazy, she thought sadly as she was drawn back to her breakfast and her reality. The reality of anger on a leash, bridled anger.

Stories the whole world can identify with. Stories from my kind of world.

Dad immediately went to do his work. Our father loves to do renovation by himself and then braggs about his work, he loves to do it all the time, but my mother hates it when dad dose these kinds of work since dad ends up making a mess of the whole neighbourhood, but dad ignores her and dose it anyway.It is pretty hard to watch him do theses kinde of work since dad is very clumsy and constantly have accidents while doing his work. Today dad's task was to cut  the grass and clean up the whole backyard but dad decided to also paint our backyard wall and and clean up the storeroom. So, after thinking for a while about what he was going to do dad decided to go to the shop around three miles away from our home to buy paint. Meanwhile mum and Lena had already started to argue about some reason, I mean.... they don't need any reason to argue and the worst part is the both like to win arguments and both of them hates to lose. At the same time mr and George had also started our fight about who was going to clean the bathroom since both of US didn't want to clean it, unfortunately at the end George won and I agreed to clean the bathroom. I decided to sweep the dust before mopping but before I could even start George had already started to mop the floor and what I didn't want to happen had happened, all the dust on the floor mixed up with the water and the whole floor was muddy at that moment I lost my temper and I yelled- "you stupid!, what are you doing?!!" had he yelled back "you are a stupid not me!!!, in fact you are the most stupid person I have ever met!!". After that  there was a serious arguments about who is more stupid.

Anna's POV

I stood starring at myself in the mirror.
The kitten painting was still on. But I could still see how red my cheeks were.
They were on fire and it was because of the Devil.
His words earlier left me speechless and I couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew how to invade my mind and take control of my thoughts. It was scary.
I sighed and bent over the pipe, washing my face off. I opened my eyes temporarily to reach for soap and then a little of the paint got in my eyes, burning the life out of me!
"Shit!" I panicked as I tried washing it off but it wouldn't stop.
"Ouch!"
Then I did the most unwise thing, I rubbed some soap on my face attempting to wash away the burn but it only made it worst! Talk about suicide.
I buried my face beneath the pipe but it wasn't helping one bit!
Failing to stop the unbearable burn, I trickled out of the bathroom and hurried to Seth's door, knocking numerous times.
He opened it to see me, stamping my feet and holding my eyes.
He seemed taken a back as he made a face "Are you okay?"
"My eyes!" I cried.
"Your eyes?"
"Yes paint got in my eyes Seth" I was jumping up and down like a kid and he sighed and gripped my hand "I told you not to let Braina put that thing on your face didn't I?"
"Ow it burns" I wept.
"Of course it would, come here"
He closed the door and held my shoulders, leading me to the internal bathroom of his room as I was fidgeting like I sat in a load of ants.
He bent me over his bathroom tub, drawing up his sleeves of his sweatshirt as he gripped the shower hose, holding it over my face.
"Try to open your eyes"
"No it will burn" I cried.
"Anna just try to open it so the water gets inside"
I took a shot at it, opening my eyes a little but I looked retarded and Seth couldn't stop the soft smile that spread his lips.
He rubbed my eyes as the water penetrated them and I basked in how good his touch felt.
I wished my eyes burned everyday.
Finally the discomforting sensations stopped and Seth helped me stand straight then reached for a towel on the rak, wiping my face with it as I kept my eyes closed.
His eyes fell to my chest and my thin white tank top was soaked from the shower hose, exposing my chest underneath.
I wasn't wearing a bra but it wasn't my fault, I was about to head to bed after washing my face.
His cheeks flushed and I noticed he stopped wiping my face for a while but had no idea what he was so focused on
 "Is everything okay?" I asked with my eyes closed.
He sighed, fighting back an arousal feeling that came on as he continued to wipe my face off "Yes. You're like a kid you know that?"
I smiled a little "Sorry" 
Unintentionally, I bit my lower lip, forgetting how much he warned me not to.
The action pulled his attention and he clenched his teeth, his actions ceasing again.
"Seth? Are you okay, why did you sto-"
I felt his lips pressed up against mine suddenly and I froze, opening my eyes widely.
Okay, what's going on?
He rested the towel somewhere, I wasn't sure where, as he gripped my waists and pulled me in closer to him, his mouth moving against mine.
I closed my eyes as we kissed each other eagerly.
Seth broke the kiss for a while, pressing his forehead against mine and his eyes starring deeply into mine.
"Your lips are mine Anna" he said in a whisper.
I turned crimson and he wasted no time to crash his lips unto mine again.
His tongue slipped inside, moving around mine synchronously. He lift me by my waist unto the face basin and settled between my legs, his lips not leaving mine, not even for a second.
I was out of breath but Seth mercilessly didn't ease up one bit, he kept kissing me and I kept kissing him back. 
The kiss felt great and I wanted more.
So much more.
His hand found it's way under my shirt and when he grasped the skin below my breast in his hand a flashback came back.
**
"Do not touch me!"
"Shh Anna. Your skin feels so good, just relax and be a good girl, I will make you enjoy this, I promise you, just lay down and keep quiet"
**
I jolted with a soft terrified cry, and Seth noticed my reaction and moved away, he glarred at me, his brows furrowed "Are you okay?"
I pressed my palms over my eyes "I am sorry....it's just-"
Shit. Why do I still have flashbacks? It ruined everything, everything!
Now Seth sees how messed up and dysfunctional I am, he definitely won't want me now.
"I am sorry" I stifled out, my eyes burning now, not from paint but from tears "I am so sorry, It's just that when....I keep...."
I couldn't explain it.
Seth's gaze softened "It's okay Anna. I know"
I pushed my hair back, fighting back tears as I looked at him with a pleading expression "I am not a freak okay? Please don't think of me that way"
"I don't Anna. I know you're not"
I lowered my gaze, squeezing my eyes shut.
I thought I was healed.
I thought telling Seth made me get better but I was still f*cked up.
I tightened my hold on the face basin "I am sorry.....I am so sorry...."
"Anna stop apologizing" Seth gripped my cheek in his hand and I looked up at him, my eyes filled with water.
It pained his heart and he drew in a breath "You'll be okay, I promise okay? It will all stop soon. You'll stop seeing it all soon, okay?"
I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek and Seth pulled my head in against his chest. His hand patted my back gently as I closed my eyes, tears seeping beneath "I am not a freak Seth, please don't think of me that way....please don't"
"I don't Anna, I don't. You'll be okay soon, I promise"

This Book Is COPYRIGHTED. Hence, No Plagiarism Is Allowed.
Seth Cole is a heartless, cold, ruthless and vengeful CEO of a famous Liquor Company who sets out to take revenge on a man who killed his parents and caused his girlfriend's rape and murder. As a way to carry out his revengeful mission, Seth Cole goes after Sylvester Young's daughter Anna Young, a 22 years college graduate to make her life a living hell!
But what happens when he discovers that Anna is nothing like her father?
Can love blossom from hate?
Find out in this melodramatic, emotional novel.

WARNING: Book contains:
*Language
*Mature Sexual Content
*Abuse
*Mature Themes
Read at your own risk❤❤


Copyrighted at Jpro1234 Publishing Inc©

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