Note: This will be a compilation of one-shots all based loosely upon the 50stories themes from the livejournal community: http://community. I, in no way, claim these themes as my own. Nor do I claim any Naruto character that may show up in these stories. The stories will not go in order of the themes themselves, as they're in alphabetical order and that would get a little… I don't know… tedious? The different one-shots also do not necessarily relate to one another.
Warning/Rating: Overall, this will have an M rating, because some of the things written here will be inappropriate for immature readers. If this is a problem for you, I'm very sorry. However, each chapter will have it's own individual rating, so if you're looking to skip over the less-than-fluffy chapters, go right ahead.
With that said…
Beautiful Memories Shading
By: Jaiden Lockheart
Title: Nails to Teeth
Warnings: Angst like whao, mention of masochism
Rating: T
POV: 1st; Sasuke
Theme: #49; Ugly
Word count: 363
The mirror reflects my image back at me and I cringe visibly. The bathroom floor is cold against the bottom of my aching feet, but is warming quickly by the blood pooling there. I hadn't realized how deep the wound was until I'd stripped out of my training clothes and physically saw it there, a disfigurement on the inside of my thigh. I'd quickly wrapped it in the medical gauze I had found in the first aid kit I keep under my bed. However, that seems to have done nothing.
I'm not too worried about it. The blood will stop flowing eventually, and though I may feel a little worse afterward, nothing outwardly will have changed. I'll still be the same. And I think that prospect is worse than any.
I trace the thin scars that mar my chest, feeling the raised skin under my fingertips. I shiver at the touch, residual pain from past wounds evoking memories of pleasure at my own skin breaking under the blade of another's kunai. I will have another to add to their numbers tonight. One that will still be fresh tomorrow morning, one my eager thumb will press into until the blood starts anew, coating my fingers, my hand, my leg. In that moment I will feel beautiful, as I let a strangled moan escape my thin lips. The blood always feels deliciously warm the morning after.
My eyes watch with rapt concentration as my hand comes to wrap itself around my throat. It fits perfectly there, surrounding bone, tendon, and bruised flesh. And I know that just the right amount of pressure could make my world go pleasantly hazy, just the right angle on the arteries hidden there and my limbs would tingle while my hearing becomes centered on my own frantically beating heart.
The mirror never lies.
My dark eyes stare back at me with contempt, hatred leaking from them, smothering me like the hand I allow to close over my mouth and nose. And it's in that moment, watching the scars, bruises, and wounds that had all made me feel momentarily beautiful, that I can't escape just how ugly I know I am.
Note: Reviews are love! I honestly have no idea what made me right this, but I feel kind of bad because it truly is angsty. Not that angst isn't one of my specialties. Really, I think I should just add on to my name: Jaiden Lockheart, Angst Extraordinaire. Now, that's a title.
Love you all,
-Jaide