Sasuke Uchiha Novels & Stories

I whispered, taking in the beauty he possessed. "Well, I'm not one of those men, you know. I'm different. I'm the god, sweetheart Hana. I don't do shit those men do." He sneered and it was mixed with confidence and disdain over the men alive on this earth. Because he thought he was superior. And he was not lying.

Jessica said while staring with glittering eyes at Jerry. "You guys are the rotten humans that ruin normal anime and turn them into another thing, ugh," Jean prejudiced harshly. "Shut it! So what if we prefer Sasunaru?! There were meant to be!" Jessica argued. "Sakura and Sasuke have a daughter named Sarada, give it up, you fools! They're just besties!!" Jean argued back, as a Naruto and Sasusaku fan at that, he refused to give in. He believed that all Saku-any other ship that wasn't female should burn in hell, ugh! How he hated those rotten people who shipped his favorite character with males!

Yukito said looking at the henchman who is tied up. “Thanks Yuki-ni.” Kazuha said, looking at her school uniform before putting it back on. She then touched the bloodstain cut on it. He even evaded my senses. What kinds of martial arts can even evade my speed? She thought. “That guy is an assassin. And not just any assassin. He’s a Sagemaker.” Xianliang said. “Sagemaker?” Kazuha said.

Yet he had stood before the throne without trembling. Even then, there had been something strange about him. Cassian continued. “He was originally a hunter. Raised among borderland mercenaries who specialized in killing demons.” “Interesting upbringing,” Vaelreth murmured. “Yes.” Cassian stopped pacing. “But what impressed the court most was his efficiency.” Vaelreth raised an eyebrow. “How many executions?” Cassian thought for a moment. “Three hundred and twelve.” The king’s lips curved slightly. “And never refused an order?”

“They called it ‘Supernatural’ because the venture boys needed a sexy deck. The lab called it PX-5. The men in suits called it Phase. Like it was an operation.” Jack set Aki’s photo down on the table between them. Black eyes. White hair. The composure of someone who owns gravity wherever she walks. “And her?” he asked. “Ghost program,” Susan said, almost to herself. “Recruitment out of disaster zones. Stateless. Practically invisible. I never met her. But the codename crossed server logs with a Japanese flag and a redacted training file from a contractor we all pretended didn’t exist.” “Sumua was declared dead,” Pauly said, tapping the corner of the dossier with a pen cap. “Somebody laundere