#but then he spent so long as madara that sometimes he forgets he's not actually afab | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raendown · 4 years ago

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First entry for @madatobiweek this year! Today’s story is for the prompts magic au and de-aged.

Companion art for this story found here!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 10,519 Rated: T+ Summary: All the magic he could possibly want at his fingertips and yet he can't stop one big brother from meddling. Forced in to revealing both his heart and his deepest secret, in the end Tobirama is happy - and happily plotting revenge.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Small Problems

“What do you mean you don’t know how this happened?”

“I’m not sure how else to say that so you can understand it.” Tobirama was aware of the dryness in his tone, aware that was one thing that never failed to rile this man up, but in a situation like this he simply could not be bothered to modulate himself.

Not when the brother who should have been two years older than him sat across the room with rounded baby cheeks, chubby little toddler legs, and a face he hadn’t seen since he himself was about five years old. What on earth his brother had been doing to land himself in such a predicament was uncertain but the two remaining adults both understood one thing without having to voice it.

They needed to right this wrong before Mito returned from visiting the Uzushio Temples or there would be hell to pay.

“Haven’t you memorized basically every damn book in the entire library here?” Madara demanded. “Take a look around! You could say which ones here have spells in them that could do this!”

“I have read many of them, not all. I would need another hundred years at the very least to merely skim the entire collection.” Not that he hadn’t been giving his best shot at doing so. Almost every spare moment not spent bored in council meetings or crafting charms for gullible tourists to buy was spent with his nose in whatever books he could get his hands on. If not for Hashirama occasionally dragging him out of his study he might not eat some days.

“Ugh. What even is the use of you?” His companion crossed both arms and turned his head away, dark hair swaying forward until it almost concealed the way his eyes traced back over to watch Hashirama very intently pluck at a loose thread on the cushion underneath him.

To be fair he did make for an adorable sight. Despite reverting to an age when he had once sported an abominable bowl cut his brown locks remained as long and smooth as ever, long enough to give the effect of a permanent cape draped over tiny shoulders. His fingers were clumsy, tongue sticking out one corner of his mouth in concentration, and the look in his eyes was about as vapidly thoughtless as any seven year old had ever been. Whatever nonsense he’d been fiddling with had well and truly brought him back to childhood.

“Anija?” Tobirama kept his voice soft since he’d already discovered that speaking sharply led to even easier tears than normal. “You said you can’t remember what you were, ah, playing with. Do you remember anything at all?”

“I remember Tobi! Up! Up!” It was disgustingly hard to resist the cuteness of a tiny Hashirama holding out both arms with a beaming smile.

Madara stared at him when he inevitably capitulated, snagging the miniaturized man under both arms and hauling him up to rest on one hip. “I never took you for a softy, Senju. You like kids or something?”

The tone was clearly meant to be a mocking one but the sneering laughter cut off at a calm nod from the one he was trying to poke fun at. Even as a child himself Tobirama had adored taking care of other younglings. Children were uncomplicated, innocent, and they never judged unless they were taught to do so by an adult. None of their endless questions had ill intentions. Sometimes he very seriously considered taking his brother’s frequent suggestions to get out of the house and take up a second job as a teacher of some sort but the thought of not having an out for the times when he just couldn’t concentrate around his latest obsession always brought him back down to reality.

When Hashirama began to babble he listened at first, hoping his question was actually being answered, but it only took half a sentence for him to recognize the usual nonsense and tune it out. He looked to Madara instead with a contemplative expression.

“How do you feel about children yourself?” he asked, unsurprised when the man narrowed both eyes suspiciously.

“Don’t hate ‘em, I guess, why?”

“If you want me to figure out what part of this mess caused my older brother to become my younger brother then I’ll need some time to dig through it all. Can you watch him? I won’t get anything done if I have to constantly pull balls of paper out of his mouth and drag him away from things that could hurt him in this state.”

Watching those dark eyes widen and fill with horror was one of the simpler pleasures in life. “Me? Watch tiny kid Hashirama? Have you lost your entire mind!?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his best friend?” Tobirama snorted. “One would think you knew him well enough to keep him entertained for a day or two. Or is childcare too much of a challenge for one such as yourself?”

That had exactly the effect he suspected it would. Madara spluttered and grumbled about how he was perfectly capable of watching one child for a few hours, how hard could it be, and other such nonsense. Amusing as that was, Tobirama did his best not to laugh. He truly wouldn’t get anything done with Hashirama underfoot and being obvious about his amusement would only send the very sexy bane of his existence storming away with no offers of help.

Honestly if the man weren’t so attractive both in mind and body Tobirama would have drowned him in a water sphere years ago. As long as he drew all the moisture out of the room afterwards it would be the perfect murder. No way to trace it back to him. But of course he had never lowered himself to fantasize about shutting that infuriating mouth up before - murderously, amorously, or otherwise. Wanting anything from someone he argued with so frequently would be a futile exercise and Tobirama was nothing if not a practical man. His time was better spent buried in books as he had been for the past two centuries.

If he learned enough about the world sometimes he wondered if it would make it all feel less lonely.

“Does he even know who I am?” Madara’s capitulation was as easy as that, although he made a point of not verbally agreeing, which was just like him. It was a good point, though. Tobirama hefted the child on his hip and cleared his throat.

“Anija? Do you remember who this is?” he asked.

“Maddy!”

“Yes. That’s exactly who this is.” Tobirama’s lips spread in a shameless smile. “Maddy.”

The sounds of spluttering from across the room were music to his ears, doubly so when the teasing hadn’t even really come from him so he couldn’t be blamed for it. Just for that he resolved to be a little less angry when everything was back to how it should be. Only a little though.

“You’re going to go play with Madara for a while, alright? Be good for him. And use your manners.”

“We’re not going to play,” Madara groused. He seemed to regret it immediately when Hashirama began tearing up. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, but the tears had extra impact when spilling out over chubby cheeks, big brown eyes even wider than normal when set in such a tiny face.

“B-but I wanna!” he cried, chin wobbling dangerously.

Madara backtracked wildly even as Tobirama stepped across the room to hand over the man-child. “No no! Of course we can play! I have lots of board games at home and a pack of tarot cards you can read and I think I still have some kid-friendly runes in one of the cupboards. Kagami likes to play with those. That’s good, right? Please stop crying.”

The way he took Hashirama’s small body in both hands like a sack of potatoes spoke to a certain inexperience with kids and yet once Hashirama finally quit producing tears and giggled at his best friend’s high pitched tone Madara looked much more comfortable, enough that when he set Hashirama on one hip the motion was as smooth and thoughtless as any full time parent. It did ridiculous things to Tobirama’s insides. Attractive, intelligent, and apparently decent with children. If it weren’t for the fact that he just couldn’t see it happening he might have been tempted to pursue something that would definitely end up terrifying everyone around them.

Unfortunately he had many times gotten the impression that Madara did not find displays of intelligence as arousing as he did - usually seemed more annoyed by it than anything else - so the thought was set aside just as it had been every other time it showed up again. While the other two whispered together about how they would fill their time for the rest of the day Tobirama looked around the room and tried to decide where he would start first. He’d initially found his brother buried under the small mountain of scrolls and tomes in the eastern corner of the room but it was all too possible that he’d simply knocked some things over in his struggle to understand this new body. Still, it was the only lead he had and it wasn’t any better or worse than starting somewhere else.

“Right.” Cracking both wrists in preparation, he turned to lift one eyebrow at the co-conspirators giggling away by the door. “I should get started if we want him back to normal before the next meeting of the Magic High Council.”

“We’ll get out of your way,” Madara took the hint, thankfully.

“Don’t forget to feed him. No sugar though, he was a demon whenever he ate sugar at that age.”

“Got it.”

Hashirama whined but Madara was already turning to leave with a little extra bounce in his step to distract the tiny body on his hip.

Although he did his best not to be obvious about it Tobirama watched them until the door closed behind his favorite pair of mischief makers. Only after their voices began to fade down the hallway did he turn and cast a weather eye over the messy study. How his brother got anything done in here was beyond him. Every inch of him itched to clean up, mourning briefly that he hadn’t been born with an affinity for air magic. With air he could have simply waved his hand and called the spirits to help him tidy the room without so much as moving from this spot, could have spent his hours in the library calling books to him without getting up, but alas he had been born with a connection to water instead.

The pile where he started took more than an hour to sift through and at the end he found nothing but the tear stains left by a confused young-again toddler. It probably wouldn’t have taken him half that long just to look at all the book titles and determine whether they were a likely culprit but his instincts demanded that he organize as he went, sorting the books in to categories by subject and gathering the papers that seemed to go together in separate piles as well. Several of the scrolls were unmarked and those he set aside for later. Messing with unknown, possibly magical artefacts was a mistake he’d made several times before. Now was not the time for a repeat. If the rest of the chaos around him yielded nothing he would look in to the unmarked items with due caution and only after advising someone else to come check that he wasn’t dead afterwards.

From there Tobirama began to move around the perimeter of the room, going through each new spot of chaos with a fine toothed comb, leaving order in his wake when he moved on. It saddened him to know that all this effort would probably be ruined in less than a week after his brother was free in here once more.

Beneath one pile of debris he discovered a couch and under a different one he found a table. In one pile after several hours of labor he found some books that he had loaned to his sibling and never gotten back, told they were mysteriously lost somewhere. From now on anything he loaned this idiot would be tethered to a tracking rune and carefully monitored; then the first time Hashirama tried to say something was lost he was going to go dig it up out of this trash heap of a room and commit violence with it.

Maybe he would even let Madara watch. The man did always seem like he could use a good laugh.

Over half the room had been torn apart and rebuilt in to piles of satisfying organization before Tobirama finally unearthed a clue as to what his brother had been messing with. Bundled under a few tomes about interdimensional flora trades he found one that he himself hadn’t read yet, though he remembered mentally noting it for a future subject of interest. Age manipulation was one of the few subsections of time magic he had yet to turn his attention to. His last experiments in those areas had led to tears from several of their neighbors and angered Kawarama so badly his youngest sibling had refused to speak to him for a whole year. Not truly such a large portion of their extended life spans but he’d felt the loss all the same and no matter what others thought he was capable of learning from his mistakes. Even if the mistake he interpreted was not being sneaky enough with his research.

There were probably at least a dozen other ways that Hashirama might have landed himself in the state that he did but finding materials specifically to do with age regression magic in his possession was fairly damning evidence for that possibility. Just in case, Tobirama took a moment to pause and look around the rest of the room. One corner that he hadn’t yet gotten to was an area he very rarely saw his brother digging in to and had thus left it to be dealt with last. Now he looked a little closer and noticed that several piles of nonsense had all been very carefully arranged to give the appearance of being the same old stacks of garbage while concealing a cleared area in the very center, a suspicious little set up if he’d ever seen one. Tobirama set down the thick Treatise on Age Manipulation: Techniques of the Elemental Nations and padded his way across the carpet on silent feet as though if he made too much noise he might startle away whatever lay in the hidey hole before him.

As soon as he poked his head around one tall stack of paper he was frowning deeply, more suspicious than ever. In the very center of the mess, hidden from sight at any other angle but the one he was looking from, a small area had been cleared out to set up an obvious workspace. He remembered when they were little and Hashirama had been so fond of building himself little forts or secret hideaways where he could practice with the natural magics in his blood, making games out of pretending to be some Master Enchanter conducting secret experiments.

Fun as it was to think back to such innocent times from two centuries before, not even the nostalgia of childhood was going to save Hashirama from his wrath if it turned out the idiot had done all this on purpose. With a deep scowl scoring lines in his forehead to match the tattoos on his cheeks, Tobirama slid carefully in to the cleared out space and hunkered down, pulling several open notebooks towards himself to read through his brother’s familiar handwriting.

His fears were proven disgustingly true in but a few pages. Judging by the typically scatter-brained notes, it seemed that not only was this not an accident but that Hashirama had actively sought out this brand of magic for the specific purpose of regressing himself to a toddler. Why he wanted to be seven years old again was not mentioned in the initial notes and so Tobirama read on with a headache already forming from clenching his jaw too tightly.

Two more notebooks of terribly organized outlines and vague descriptions of eighteen different experiments granted Tobirama no more clarity on the situation, although he did pick up enough crumbs of information to piece together a decent knowledge of the subject matter. His temper was barely contained by the time he worked his way down to the final notebook. Fascinating as he had always found it comparing the theories of one spell to another, he needed to figure out which one had actually been used that morning in order to properly reverse it. Truly a regrettable restriction.

Well, regrettable from Hashirama’s point of view, probably. He was the one who would suffer the wrath of an angry water mage until Tobirama had worked out the frustration of this moment.

The last notebook left unread sat open to a random page that Tobirama smacked his hand down on in a temper. Dragging it towards him across the worksurface made the distinct sound of crumpling paper as he did so. Instantly mired with an instinctual scholar’s guilt, he very carefully lifted the book to peer underneath and assess whatever damage he’d just done.

A lone sheet of parchment fluttered back in to place where he easily identified it as a letter. The frown that already might as well be permanently etched in to his face deepend at the sight of his own name at the top. Why in the many interdimensional worlds would his brother need to write to him? They lived right next door to each other! Setting the notebooks aside, he used both hands to smooth out the rest of the letter and held the edges down so he could skim the contents. The moment he reached the bottom his eyes snapped back to the top for a more careful read through since clearly he must have hallucinated what he thought he’d just read.

Nothing changed. Tobirama’s hands were shaking with rage as he read through his brother’s words for a third time like they might somehow change in to something less stupid.

Dear Tobi

If you’re finding this then my plans are in motion! You will be very proud of me, I’m sure, for how carefully I conducted my experiments and research. Just like you!

Watching you and Madara dance around each other the way you have been for half a century is starting to get ridiculous. I really hate seeing both of you so lonely but you both refuse to do anything about it so I decided to do that myself. You’ll thank me, I promise!

The spell I’ll be using will bring my body and mind back to when I was a child - but I guess you’ll already know that when you find this. Don’t worry for me, I still have all my memories. But there is only one way to break the spell and bring me back to normal. All you have to do is say a few simple words. Easy, right? I hope so because the words I chose for my release incantation are words you should have said a long time ago.

You have to ask Madara on a date! Isn’t that fun? I told you that you would thank me later! You can’t just say any old words, though, you have to say it exactly like this: “Madara, it would make me very happy if you would take me on a date tomorrow.” You deserve to be pampered. He should be the one taking you out and treating you nice!

I can’t wait to see how happy you’ll be when I’m back to normal!

Love, Hashirama (the best big brother in the world)

The sound of crumpling parchment filled the air around him, fingers clenching in to the letter with white-knuckled rage. Happy was not even close to any of the feelings chasing red hot through his blood. After he managed to get this idiot back to his usual height Tobirma was going to punch the man right back down to the ground. Stagnant thought it may be, his love life was his own damn business.

His first instinct, of course, was to tear his way through the final notebook in search of which exact spell his brother had ended up using. Almost every curse and rune and incantation that had ever been crafted could be broken or cancelled out by something if a man was desperate enough to do something stupid - and Tobirama was fairly desperate not to get backed in to such a ridiculous corner. Of all the hills he’d been prepared to die on over the years this probably ranked among the pettiest and yet that knowledge did nothing to stop him from slapping the notebook back down in a rush of fury when he discovered what he had most feared.

For a very stupid man Hashirama did have his moments of evil genius. All the notes appeared to be there just as they had been for the rest but here the letters were blurred with some sort of privacy seal, visible only to Hashirama’s eyes. The only thing keeping Tobirama from whipping the entire thing across the room was knowing he would feel compelled to go clean up whatever mess his little hissy fit might cause.

Dragging both hands down his face, he leaned back in what small space was available and tilted his head back to look up blankly at the ceiling, wracking his brain for a way to get around this. He knew dozens of counter-enchantments that could be attuned to different spells but of course Hashirama had known those would be his answer. Without knowing how to attune them he could end up hurting the idiot before he had a chance to murder him properly and that was far from what he wanted. Revenge would be sweet - but deliberate.

It couldn’t hurt anything to go home and do a little research of his own to see if there was some solution that might not be occurring to him in the panic. He had salvaged dozens of seemingly hopeless experiments over the years long after something appeared to be impossible, he wouldn’t know until he tried. With any luck he might stumble upon some hidden nugget of information to save the day and prevent him from making such an utter fool of himself in front of Madara by asking questions he was fairly sure he already knew the answer to. No need to expose himself like that. He’d been lucky in his experiments before, there was no reason to think he might not be lucky again.

Except for perhaps the fact that fate was often a bitch like that, abandoning him when he needed her most.

There was nothing really to pack up since none of the materials around him would be very useful so it only took a moment to squeeze his way back out of the little fort before he could head for the exit. Concentrated as he had been on the task of figuring out what the fuck was going on, his brain had rather easily filtered out the muted sounds drifting over from the other end of Hashirama’s ridiculously oversized home. Thanks to some rather clever seal work designed by Mito the inside of the house was nearly three times as large as the outside, new rooms and wings added on whenever Hashirama took a fancy to some new hobby or another. Until he was intercepted halfway to the front door Tobirama hadn’t realized one of the newest additions was a nursery.

“Play!” Hashirama’s tiny voice demanded with childish imperialism. “Tobi play!”

“Get back here you miniaturized tree! How the hell do you move so fast- oh.” Madara froze in the doorway, arms outstretched where he had clearly been attempting to capture his runaway charge.

“Having fun, are we?” Tobirama murmured. He tilted his head down to see two wide brow eyes staring back at him as though he’d hung the very stars in the sky. It’d been years since any of his brothers looked at him like that. Some small corner of his heart melted instantly, fingers twitching with the need to pull this tiny figure up on to his hip for a good cuddle.

Madara straightened up and cleared his throat. “You don’t need to check up on us, you know.”

“Up!”

“Not now, Anija.” Absently patting the man-child’s hair, Tobirama lifted one eyebrow. “I was on my way to look a bit deeper in to our options for this rather unorthodox situation. My own laboratory is much better equipped for such research so if the two of you would excuse me. Anija, please let go now.”

Hashirama’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously. “No. Tobi has to play!”

Difficult to tell at the best of times, it was even harder to figure out if his emotions were real or put upon with such an earnest and tiny face. He hadn’t lost his memories, after all, only his emotional and mental maturity. Which wasn’t all that great to begin with but Tobirama had been given enough lectures on the subject not to mention that anymore - at least not where sensitive ears might carry his words to a vengeful Mito.

“I can’t stay and play, Anija, I need to work on getting you back to normal.” And planning his revenge, of course, though he refused to give any hints of that. Surprises were supposed to be fun, or so he’d been told.

“But Toooobiiiiii!” Hashirama’s pudgy fingers curled around his leg in a stubborn embrace. “I already said how! I wroted you a letter! Play!”

“The correct word is ‘wrote’,” Tobirama corrected him out of sheer habit. He may not have accepted any of the teaching positions offered to him over the years but there would always be an educator buried somewhere in his heart.

Nodding furiously, the limpet clinging to him faithfully repeated his correction. “Wrote! Now come give me piggyback rides? Madara’s really good at them but his hair is all slippy and I keep sliding off!”

Listening to the strange mesh of adult language and the childish need to bastardize grammar was bound to give him a headache in less than five minutes. Hashirama’s pronunciation was perfect, it was clear he was aware of every mistake in his sentences, so Tobirama was left to conclude that it was all very deliberate. The undersized nuisance was acting as childish as he could to play it up. He had to be. Nothing else could explain how he remembered writing that letter but ‘didn’t remember’ how to properly communicate as such.

Even worse, it was working. Tobirama could feel his resolve weakening with every tug as Hashirama pulled insistently at his fingers. In his current state he had next to no strength and barely a fraction of his usual body weight, there was really no reason he should be able to pull a fully grown man around, and yet Tobirama found himself shuffling forward in half steps anyway. As an instinctual defense against his own stupidly soft heart he made sure to roll his eyes heavenward in an expression of great suffering. From the quiet snort that Madara let out he could guess that his efforts were wasted. So much for all-consuming rage.

As he allowed himself to get pulled in to what looked like the aftermath of a tornado Tobirama quickly revised his plans. He would allow himself to be distracted for ten minutes or so, just enough time to appease Hashirama, then he would head home as planned and see if there was anything helpful to be gleaned from his personal library.

“Maddy helpeded me build a tower!” Hashirama scurried over to show him the wobbly structure made out of wooden rune blocks, imitations of the stones and charms Tobirama himself often peddled for money. Not exactly work to be proud of but it was fairly easy income and quick fingers meant he could produce them fast enough to give himself lots of time for the research he was truly interested in. Pride was all well and good until it got in the way of his experiments.

“It’s a very...tower.” Try as he might Tobirama couldn’t bring himself to compliment that architectural monstrosity.

“He worked very hard on that,” Madara pointed out.

Tobirama turned to level him with a flat stare. “I have my own hard work to be doing right now.”

“Awww but you haven’t even given me a piggyback ride yet!” Abandoning his tower, Hashirama toddled over to strike an admittedly very cute pose. “Stop trying to run away, little brother!”

“Which one of us is little right now?” he snapped back.

Madara didn’t even bother to stifle the bark of laughter that jerked his entire frame, although he did turn his face away to let out a long bout of snickering. Being mocked by him was nothing new, that was pretty much the basis for most of their interactions, but it still wasn’t pleasant to realize he was acting so childishly in front of the man he had such unfortunate feelings for. Tobirama just barely stopped himself from crossing his arms; that would have really driven the nails down in his coffin.

Instead he appeased himself with a pointed glare down at the little body dancing from side to side near his feet. He’d sort of forgotten just how fidgety his brother had been at this age. Of course, the years hadn’t really dulled the habit all that much, just enough that he was able to pass for a semi-respectable adult for short spurts at a time.

“One ride,” Tobirama offered stiffly. “I will take you once around the room and then you will let me leave. Do we have a deal?”

“No! You have to play with both of us!”

“What on earth led you to believe you have any sort of bargaining power here?”

Daring to produce a sunny smile, Hashirama giggled in his face, clearly unaware of the massive hole he was digging for himself by the minute. Vengeance would be sweet once he was returned to a mental state that would understand the sort of tortures Tobirama had in mind.

“If you don’t play with me I’ll tell Maddy what I wrote in the letter!”

Tobirama had never snatched a child off the ground so fast in all his life. Doing his best to ignore the curious and increasingly irritated questions from Madara, he settled his brother across both shoulders and began trotting about the room. When Hashirama demanded it he even gave a very flat neigh. If they had been alone, if this were any other child on his back, he would have had so much more enthusiasm for play. Normally he loved kids. With Madara doubled over in the corner and both hands wrapped around his stomach to contain the mirth it was a little harder than usual to lose himself in the joy of youthful innocence.

Once around the room was deemed far from enough when he tried to stop. All it took was one glance over at Madara for him to set off again with barely a grumble. Mortifying as this was, making the other man laugh was preferable to letting him catch his breath enough for curiosity to set in again. He must have heard something about the letter. Or maybe he hadn’t and the spirits had for once decided to have mercy and allow Tobirama to escape this room without embarrassing himself with the one thing he would never recover from - his feelings.

For perhaps a whole five minutes he was allowed to have hope. Hashirama directed him like a little general on several laps around the nursery before dragging him over to the blocks and demanding he help make an ‘even betterer’ tower. With his guidance the results were at least structurally sound, if not entirely practical. He wasn’t so sure how necessary it was to have so many rooftops. After playing with the rune blocks Hashirama cheerfully announced that he wanted to play dress up and that, unsurprisingly, was where Tobirama drew the line. There were many things he would do to save himself from the fate his brother had chosen to be his doom but putting on a fashion show for a toddler and a man with the power to burn memories in to his own mind was not one of those things. Just the thought of whatever monstrosities might be hiding in this home, waiting for his tortured form to be stuffed in to them, was enough to turn his stomach. His brother was not known for any sort of fashion sense.

“Alright, that is enough,” he declared, standing up to brush imaginary lint from his pants. “You asked that I play with you and I have. Now I will be going-”

“But you didn’t play with Maddy at all!” Hashirama’s tiny legs fluttered him across the room to hang off his best friend’s sleeve.

“I don’t think he’s all that heart broken about it,” Tobirama pointed out flatly.

To his horror, Madara chose that moment to feel a little mischievous. “How would you know? Maybe I’m just torn apart inside with despair that you could possibly think to leave me out of the fun. Come now, Senju, stay and play with me too!”

“Oh! We could have a sleepover!” Clapping both hands to either side of his face, Hashirama’s eyes practically glittered at the very thought.

He wilted sadly when Tobirama shot him down with a short, “No.”

“Whyyyyy!?”

“Because I have work to do.”

“No you don’t!” Hashirama stuck his tongue out. “You just want to go and read a bunch of books a-’cause you��re trying not to ask Maddy-”

“FINE!”

Both of them stared at him with wide eyes for such an unexpected outburst. Madara’s eyes quickly narrowed again in thought, a dangerous expression. The man may have been famous for his manipulation of fire magics but only because there were so few people who had witnessed just what those dangerous eyes could do and lived to tell the tale. And as much as Tobirama knew that should have sobered him with fear he could only mentally sigh at the warm burst of intrigue that bloomed in his chest.

Clearing his throat, he did his best to smooth away the panic from his expression and coached his voice to more normal, less panicked tones.

“If you absolutely must then you may have your...sleepover.” The word came out through gritted teeth.

“Why do I keep picking up hints that there’s something you don’t want me to know?” Madara asked.

“Because there is something I don’t want you to know.”

The offended squawk was amusing, at least. Madara always had this way of bristling like an angry hedgehog whenever they traded their usual insults and that, Tobirama realized now, was probably the origin of his downfall. He couldn’t help it if his poor taste thought it was cute to see an already wild man made even wilder as his hair spiked up and his cheeks puffed out with indignation.

Before his thoughts could run too far away and bring any sort of damning color to his face Tobirama followed tiredly along with his little-older brother’s instructions to set up the room for a good old camp out. In a magically expanded mansion like this one there were a dozen or so futons to choose from. Hashirama picked out the ones he declared the cushiest and conducted his two temporary slaves to drag them through the halls, hemming and hawing with all his seven-year old eye for decorating, demanding they rearrange things four times before it was perfect. If he were honest it looked completely the same to Tobirama in each iteration but he knew better than to say so. He wasn’t looking for a three hour lecture on home decor from someone whose voice had reversed to prepubescence.

When all was about as perfect as he wanted it to be Hashirama threw his tiny body in to the very middle of the mess and began squirming around with all four limbs flailing. Irritating as the situation might be, that was still an adorable sight that forced Tobirama to hide a smile. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to wait at least until the little idiot fell asleep before he slipped away to hit the books. He just hoped that whatever spell had shrunk his brother would not have any adverse effects with lengthy exposure; it would be just his luck to finally have everyone back to their correct age only to discover that he had accidentally saddled himself with a man forever stuck in the mind of a child.

Not to mention that Mito would have his head for that.

He wasn’t the only one who seemed suspiciously okay with the proceedings. As unselfconsciously as though he were entirely alone, Madara straightened to pull off his outer robes and reached back to sweep the great mass of his long hair behind him. While he listened to Hashirama chatter excitedly about the bedtime stories they should tell he separated his hair in to three sections and began to braid the lot of it in to a thick rope. It was entirely unfair how much more approachable he looked without all that snarled black wire bristling around his head.

Tobirama looked away before anyone could catch him staring. He occupied himself instead with fussing at some of the blankets, turning the edges down and pulling them in to place a little better. Presumably Hashirama would be sleeping in the center and even at his full size he somehow managed not to hold on to any body heat during the night. All the blankets around them might feel excessive but they were probably necessary.

In an effort to relax himself he allowed his body to flop down over the mess of bedding, grateful when his head landed at least somewhat over a pillow. There would be no escape until little eyes had fallen asleep so he might as well get comfortable for now and since he had no long hair to braid or extraneous outer layers to remove there was nothing to do but consciously loosen the muscles in his body until he felt himself all but melting down in to the futon. Someday when this nursery was occupied by actual children he was pleased to note that they would undoubtedly be quite comfortable with soft beds, tasteful decor carefully chosen for a soothing atmosphere, and so many spells layered together for climate control he didn’t think it was even possible for one to grow cold in this room - unless you were Hashirama. A good place to raise children.

Crude as it was, his plan of waiting until Hashirama fell asleep to make his escape sounded perfectly fine right up until the tiny traitor passed out sprawled over his lap in the middle of a story he used to recite for their younger brothers. As soon as Tobirama realized what had happened he fell silent with a baleful glare.

“What’s he done now?” Madara asked with a snicker. “I thought the whole point of telling him stories was to make him fall asleep so what’s with that look?”

“I didn’t mean for him to do so on top of me.”

“Guess you’re trapped here with us, then.” Strangely enough, he didn’t look all that upset about it for a man who’d never seemed particularly enamoured with his best friend’s little brother.

Heaving a deep sigh of resignation, Tobirama closed his eyes and prayed to the spirits of water for patience. This was exactly the sort of situation he did not want to be in. He’d been stupid enough to admit that he was keeping something from Madara specifically and now here he was trapped in place at the other’s mercy. If he wanted to move he would risk waking Hashirama who was even more likely to simply blurt out his secrets than he was to reveal them on purpose. With despair he noted that it seemed Hashirama’s plan would be coming to fruition after all, the bastard. There didn’t seem like a way out of this now. If he woke Hashirama and left his Anija would simply tattle on him but if he stayed here Madara’s relentless personality would not stop until he had the answers he knew were being kept from him.

Staring back at the expectant grin watching him like a hawk, Tobirama could already taste defeat heavy on his tongue. He wasn’t going to get out of this without making a fool of himself. At least, he consoled himself, it wouldn’t be all that hard to avoid the man for a decade or so and by then either his feelings would hopefully have faded or Madara’s memories would have.

“Anything you want to fess up to while we’re stuck together?”

“You,” Tobirama snarled, “are not stuck anywhere. He’s not even a little on top of you.”

“I forgot how cute he used to be - in a dorky sort of way. The lack of bowl cut is a definite improvement.” Already sitting with his legs crossed, Madara folded himself a little tighter so he could lean down and inspect the small sleeping face between them.

Tobirama did his best not to track the movements of that thick braid or think about how much he wanted to unravel it loop by loop with his own fingers. It took a sizable chunk of self control but he managed to meet the other’s gaze once Madara finally sat upright again. “After a prank like this one I am tempted to recreate the bowl cut while he sleeps. He deserves to be laughed out of town.”

“Oh come on, he’s just trying to get you to open your mouth as far as I can tell. So why don’t you just make your confessions and then everything will be fine, ne?”

“Go to hell.”

“Been there, done that, won the throne.”

“Ugh.”

Even that was enough to spawn some very interesting pictures in his mind, images of this man in dark robes lounging on the throne of hell, which made Tobirama glad that he had more self control than most. Otherwise having his brother spread across his lap would have suddenly become twice as awkward.

“Go on then, putting us both out of our miseries now would save a lot of time and badgering,” Madara said.

“And yet I still find myself reluctant to say anything,” Tobirama shot back.

“It must be extra embarrassing then; I’ve got to know!”

With a scowl he turned his head away and declared, “No, you don’t.”

“The more you protest the more curious I become,” Madara laughed. The truth of the statement brought one of Tobirama’s hands up to drag tiredly down his face.

“Right. I should have expected that. Would the reason why we’re in this situation satisfy you? That sounds like a decent compromise to me - and brother is always whining at the two of us to compromise more.” It wasn’t as though they didn’t get along at all but they were both possessed of cantankerous personalities that led to bickering more often than not. Hashirama hated it but Tobirama was often grateful for the way his feature naturally affected a scowl, neatly hiding the fact that he actually enjoyed their verbal spars.

“Sounds entertaining, at least!”

“Hmph.”

Entertaining the other was the last thing he was after, no matter how deviously attractive Madara looked when he was bent over with laughter at someone making a fool of themselves. Right now his biggest concern was mitigating the damage. With that in mind he shored up what little courage he had left the matter and cleared his throat.

“In a stroke of brilliance that I was unaware he possessed - and will happily beat out of him later - Anija located a spell that requires an incantation to break. He chose a certain phrase that he would like me to say, something he has made the decision on my behalf that desperately needs to be said out loud no matter my personal feelings on the matter.” Tobirama took a deep breath in an effort not to get himself riled up. “In short, I am under duress to make confessions I would rather not. Does that satisfy you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Madara declared with a grin.

“You cannot be serious!”

His companion fell back in to the bedding with a bark of laughter. “If anything I’m even more curious. So he won’t turn back in to an adult unless you say whatever he set as the decantation?”

“Mn.”

“Would just be easier to get it over with, wouldn't it?”

“Not really.” Tobirama studied a spot on the wall without actually seeing it. “One doesn’t just say things like this without expecting the consequences to be remembered. You do, after all, have quite the long memory when it comes to mocking others. Not so much when it comes to important dates.”

“I forgot his birthday one time! One time!”

For a moment he breathed a subtle sigh of relief. Madara seemed content to be distracted by going off on a rant about how it should be completely forgivable that in several hundred years he had only missed one of Hashirama’s birthdays, too deep in his studies to see the way time marched on around him. It was a state that Tobirama could more than sympathize with, although that did nothing to stop him from throwing it in the man’s face whenever he needed a good distraction.

To his poor luck, however, today his foolproof distraction failed him at last. Madara’s rant ended after only a handful of minutes when he snapped his jaw shut with a suddenness that clacked his teeth together. A curl of his top lip slowly blossomed in to something downright evil looking.

“Something you don’t want to say to me but Hashirama thinks that you should.” He cackled softly under his breath. “Oh this promises to be so embarrassing. Perfect! I have to know!”

“No, you don’t,” Tobirama said again.

“I really, really do.”

A growl slipped out between his teeth as he gnashed them together. “What would it take to convince you to just drop it?”

“More than you could ever afford,” Madara answered promptly.

“Would begging help?” Tobirama’s voice carried a note of mounting desperation.

Yet still Madara shook his head, expression filled with malicious delight. His toes were practically wriggling with it. If it weren’t for the visual comparison spread across his own lap Tobirama might have been tempted to call the man a child for looking so pleased over something so cruel.

Why, in the name of all things holy, did he find that so attractive? Clearly there was something wrong with him.

“I’m afraid you just talked yourself in to a corner by piquing my interest even more. Which means that you have two options.” Madara held up his fingers in a V shape. “One, you tell me whatever this gift wrapped blackmail is yourself. Two, I wake Hashirama up and we hear it from his mouth instead.”

Tobirama stared at him with his heart sinking in his chest because the man was right. He had only two options and of those two he knew which one would feel worse. Saying the words himself was going to end in pain - for more than just himself if his plans for revenge had anything to say about it - but cowering in the corner like a shy child ashamed of his own feelings while someone else exposed his vulnerabilities? Just the thought of standing back and letting that happen made him shudder. It took several tries drawing breath deep in to his lungs but eventually he was able to force his chin up, shoulders square. He held Madara’s gaze for all of three second before his eyes skittered away of their own accord to stare at the wall instead.

“Madara,” he breathed, “it would make me very happy if you would take me on a date tomorrow.”

“W-what?”

“AH!” The booming baritone of Hashirama’s voice was startling after an afternoon of listening to his seven year old squeaking, almost more of a distraction than the way his body returned abruptly to its usual size with a rending crack that echoed off the walls. When he sat up he did so with the clumsy movement of a new faun learning its own legs. “Did I fall asleep? How did the story end? Why does my voi- oh! Oh brother! You must have asked him! I’m so proud of you, I can’t wait to hear how your first date goes!”

Shoving his giant lump of a brother off, Tobirama ignored the indignant whine as he surged upwards to his feet and stormed towards the door. “Don’t hold your breath. The answer is no.”

“You said no!?” Hashirama exclaimed, turning to his best friend who sat very still with a poleaxed expression.

“I didn’t say anything…”

“He never said anything, Tobi. How do you know what his answer is if you don’t let him speak?”

“Easy.” When he paused at the door to look over one shoulder he could meet neither of their eyes. “There was never a chance he would say yes.”

Without waiting to hear a response from either of them he turned back to the door and left, down the hall and through the many twisting corridors of his brother’s stupidly large home. Drafting seals in his mind to cancel out the magic expanding the inside of Hashirama’s house was so much easier to think about than the fact that he would probably have to avoid Madara for the next couple of decades. The man did have a long memory. There was really no guarantee he would ever forget but hopefully the shine of mocking Tobirama for his feelings would have faded away by the time he allowed them to talk again.

His nose wrinkled against the cold when he finally managed to find his way outside to the cobblestone streets of the capital city. Council meetings; he’d forgotten that all three of them sat together on the Magic High Council. That would make it infinitely harder for him to avoid conversing with either of those morons but he was sure he could find a way. Maybe he could design a rune that would remove his voice for a while.

No, that would make it difficult to sell his wares when he needed money. Not to mention that many of the spells he spent his time researching required incantations. He would have to think of something else.

It wasn’t exactly a long journey to his own modest home next door, although with his head lost in the swirl of dark thoughts it felt like it took forever to get there. Stepping in to the ring of fae-fire light illuminating his front step brought with it the familiar shiver of wards scanning him for ill intent and he was glad to have his attention pulled back to reality. Thinking about Madara wouldn’t do him any good. It never had before. Tomorrow he could lock himself away with several notebooks and brainstorm some underhanded method or another to minimize the contact between them until he could meet the other man’s eyes again but for now the best thing would be to just get some sleep.

The house was dark and Tobirama didn’t bother to turn on any lights, familiar enough with his own layout not to need them. Living by himself as he had for so long meant that he really felt no desire to expand the inside as his brother had. What need did he have of more space? He already had more rooms than he knew what to do with, filling most of them with books and the results of failed experiments, so the thought of adding more felt ridiculous.

Even without light enough to see it Tobirama could feel the comfort of his living room the moment he stepped inside. Well worn carpet buoyed his steps on his way to collapse down over the threadbare couch. Not many things in his house had been replaced in the past couple of centuries. Impressing the rare guests who entered was far less important to him than the precious memories attached to every item here that had been with him through discoveries, achievements, and heartbreaks. He gave the cushions underneath him a chance now to help him through one more of the latter as he stretched out on his back to stare up at the shadows on the ceiling. Would that he could turn his mind off. To not think any thoughts for several hours would be a wonderful boon at the moment but sleep felt as far away as the ocean.

A good thing, as it turned out. The spirits of water only knew what sort of reaction he might have had to being awakened by the sound of booted feet storming in to the room and a violent hand smacking the light switch without looking. Despite knowing exactly who had invaded his home - he knew those footsteps, would always know the pattern of that confident stride - Tobirama pulled himself in to a sitting position where he could glare down his unwanted guest.

“I have never understood,” he growled, “how you always bypass my wards.”

“Don’t need to. They let me in just fine.”

“They shouldn’t!”

“Why the hell not?”

Shifting forward to the edge of his seat, Tobirama pointed back down the hall. “Get out. I have better things to spend my night doing than being mocked by you - like figuring out what loophole you’ve found that keeps letting you in here.”

“They’re intent based, aren’t they? I get in because I have no intent to harm you in any way.” In deliberate ignorance of being asked to leave Madara stepped further in to the room. Somehow he managed to look both his usual confident self and oddly hesitant, arms folded closely to his chest.

“Like hell you don’t. It’s not just physical harm they’re supposed to guard me against. Just leave. I don’t want to listen to whatever-”

“Just let me talk!”

Sitting down while the other hovered menacingly over him felt like weakness, like offering himself as bait, so Tobirama stood to fold his own arms with a frown. “I’m sure I don’t want to hear whatever it is you came here to say.”

Whether that be mockery or some kind of apology for not returning his feelings he really didn’t want to listen. Both options would hurt equally as bad. It was something he had observed long before falling prey to the same thing himself; beings like themselves with lives extended by the magic in their veins tended to harbor their pains much deeper and much longer than the humans with more natural lifespans. He’d been in love with Madara for so long it was hard to remember when he first decided to push it all down and simply forge ahead. Learning to let these feelings go was going to be even harder than learning to ignore them had been.

“I think you do. But first I need to know; did he make you ask me that because…”

“Don’t make me say it,” Tobirama said quietly, looking away.

“So you do... Then you meant what you said to Hashirama? You really think there’s no chance at all that I could ever say yes to you?” Madara took another step forward only to pause when Tobirama took a step back in answer.

A glare probably wasn’t enough answer so he forced himself to say, “Obviously.”

“W-What do you mean ‘obviously’? That’s not- Like hell!”

“Either make sense or leave. Actually, just leave. Now.” Tobirama took a step back with the intention of turning and walking away. His bedroom was much more heavily warded than the rest of the house, he would be safe in there from whatever the hell was going on.

He froze when Madara blurted out, “I would have said yes!”

“I...beg your pardon?”

The particular shade of red currently spreading across Madara’s face was one Tobirama had long ago learned to associate with an impending explosion, generally one of words and almost always directed at himself. Some part of him braced for impact out of sheer habit even as the rest of his body hung loose with shock and his thoughts ground to a stuttering halt. He watched Madara fidget and held his breath.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You like me, I’m allowed to like you back!”

“Since when!?” Tobirama demanded. Then, because that didn’t feel like enough, he also spluttered his way through, “How? What? Me?”

“Of course you! It’s always been you! You’re the only one who knows how to properly yell back at me, you’re so smart already and you still spend every day lost in your studies, you’re more attractive than I know what to do with; who the hell wouldn’t say yes to all that?” With a toss of his head Madara scoffed and tried to stand casually as though he weren’t blushing redder than his own family crest.

Tobirama could only stare. “I don’t...what?”

By the determined expression on the other’s face Tobirama figured he should probably turn tail and run when Madara began marching across the room towards him. As luck had it, he was still too deep in shock to do anything but stand there like an idiot until his collar was bunched up in a pair of fists.

“Fuck it,” Madara snarled. “Neither of us was ever any good at words anyway.”

Despite all the clues laid out so neatly in a row for him Tobirama’s first thought when he was yanked forward was that he was about to be headbutted, a ridiculously mundane attack considering how much magical power they both wielded. Nothing could have possibly surprised him more than Madara’s lips crushing against his own in a kiss that began as brutally as their clashes ever had only to soften, taking and taking and then suddenly asking, exploring, reaching out with a question he could finally understand. It took several heartbeats for him to respond through the shock but when he did-

Oh, when he did. Centuries of yearning coalesced inside him and faded away to dust as he slid his fingers in to midnight hair and tilted his head for a better angle, a deeper kiss. Madara sighed in to the affection like he too had been waiting much too long for this moment. The feeling of that strong body pressed against his own was like finding the other half of himself and finally finally coming back together again. Tobirama held tight and prayed that none of this would disappear when he woke the next morning.

“Was that clear enough?” Madara asked him in breathless words, quiet as though he didn’t want to disturb the moment.

“I will have a lot of questions,” Tobirama warned him. “Later. Just- again.” He was grateful that his incoherency made sense to the other, pulled in for another kiss that felt like learning how to breathe for the first time.

They could have made their way to the bedroom, to the couch he was still right next to, up against the wall or anywhere really. It was late and the day had been filled with more emotions than either of them were accustomed to dealing with in such a short time span. Still they remained where they were. Even when the kisses began to fade and the desperation in their movements settled in to the confounding knowledge that this was truly happening they stood where they were, wound together with their eyes closed and their cheeks pressed against each other in silence. Tobirama breathed in the scent of smoke and ash, closed his eyes, and smiled.

Maybe he wouldn’t kill his brother after all. It was possible - unlikely as it sounded - that Hashirama had been right in the end. And as much as Tobirama protested the methods used to force his words in to the light he was self-aware enough to know that he would never have said them otherwise, too wrapped up in his own interpretations to see the truth.

Another deep breath and Tobirama admitted to himself that he should probably thank his brother. Without interference he might have never had the opportunity to feel the beat of Madara’s heart against his own, the way their chests pressed together with every synchronized breath in. His eyes cracked open but it was only to crinkle at the edges with a smirk as evil as he had ever been accused of being. Thanking Hashirama could come after the revenge he was equally owed. A few smiles, a day or two of playing nice, and he was sure he could weasel out of the man which spell he had used to reverse his age. Tobirama was patient. Locking his brother in that limited body for a week or so would be so much sweeter after Mito came home and he could leave the idiot to her lack of mercy. Only after apologies had been given on bended knee would he relent.

“You’re thinking something evil,” Madara’s voice rumbled in his ear. “Your fingers always twitch when you do.”

“Sorry-”

“I like it. You’ve always been a mean son of a bitch and that’s part of what I like about you. Share whatever evil thoughts you have in your head?”

Tobirama bit his lower lip to keep himself from laughing, curling tighter around the body in his arms as he whispered, “Stay.”

“Always,” Madara whispered back. “I always meant to stay.”

It seemed like it should be impossible to have everything he wanted handed to him as easily as that but Tobirama was hardly going to question it. He questioned enough in his research. All thoughts of giving thanks or revenge could wait until after he’d spent at least a few good hours memorizing the way it felt to finally hold this man in his arms.

Pressing their lips together again was more of a rush than any magical discovery had ever given him, dusting his cheeks with a pleasant warmth, and Tobirama decided that he was happy to stand here for the rest of time if it meant he never had to do anything but trade gentle kisses just like this. It felt like the events of tonight had gone by so fast he wasn’t entirely sure how any of this had happened but that was alright.

“Always. I like the sound of that.”

#rae writes #madatobiweek2020 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction #magic au

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readerinsertfanfiction · 5 years ago

Note

can you give some hc's for the thoughts of founders trio that'd go through their head when theye realized they found ~the one~ plzzzz :)

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Hashirama Senju, Madara Uchiha & Tobirama Senju

Hashirama

What makes the ‘one’ for Hashirama is the sense of homeliness, a feeling of returning to a warm home where he can leave behind the woes of the world and forget about his responsibilities. A place where he feels like he already cultivated his dream on a small scale.

That doesn’t have to mean a front door, or a house with a garden. It could even be a hut. It is the sense of timelessness and eternity that he gets with a person. The ‘one’ for Hashirama needs to be someone with a foundation that stands like a tree. An unshakeable character, strong conviction, kindness that reaches much beyond. Someone that is built like a house, personified.

Hashirama will take his time to realise this. After all, it are the little things that make home what it is and the little things are the hardest to grasp.

The man will know quickly enough that he enjoys spending time with his ‘one’, though he believes it because he genuinely enjoys being around people. It will start with how easy he finds conversation to be with the ‘one’, how they can talk on and on for hours without ever losing interest in what the other has to say. It is in the tea they share, already tepid from the time they spent chattering so excitedly, the way the time suddenly has passed and the sun is already going down.

Oh, how long it takes for Hashirama to realise that the ‘one’ is more than just a friend, or any other person he likes to chat with and hang around with.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If it isn’t because anyone else pointed it out to him it is because Hashirama had to go some time without them. The sudden absence of their presence in his life suddenly makes him realise how much time he spends with them, or how he has already built his life centering around them.

And this realisation is beautiful, because suddenly Hashirama feels himself filled with more than just warmth. He doesn’t care if he isn’t ‘the one’ for them, he just wants them to be happy.

The real test comes after the distance. When he hasn’t seen his ‘one’ in a while. He is a little nervous, afraid that all of his contemplations and realisations had changed him as a man, or changed something between them. Afraid that all that he had thought and grown fond of had been just a mere imagination.

However, conversation is still as easy as ever before and Hashirama still finds that the time passes by so inexplicably fast while not moving at all at the same time. The tea already grew cold by the time either even realised that time had passed at all.

And then he exchanges a glance with them and his heart jumps once more and Hashirama finds that he has to take his chance now, or be silent forever. And all he really hopes for is that they will hear him out and continue to allow him to spend time with them in the same way as they had before, because that to Hashirama is more precious than anything.

Madara

Madara is a man of action. He will test any future prospects, firmly believing that he can’t be with anyone who can’t stand their own ground. Not the most reliable method, but it is what Madara feels confident in.

His ‘one’ would have to shake his foundation a bit, in the same way that Hashirama is able to uproot this man completely and have him turn over a new leaf. Madara’s ‘one’ needs to be firm in their belief as well and have the patience to constantly challenge the Uchiha head-on.

Madara will find that someone who makes him think, someone who forces him to think, will be someone suitable. Someone who isn’t intimidated by his words and will challenge him at every corner. Someone who won’t shuffle away their own opinions or hide their thoughts from him.

This man is a stubborn one, and he will feel endlessly frustrated with being questioned and challenged like that. Often enough the discussions grow stale and everything seems for naught as he still holds onto his pride and his own ideals.

But that is where action comes in. Madara may be a bad listener, but he is an observer and if he observes that something works, if he sees that the intent is sincere and is formulated from the depths of the heart, then this man will find a leeway to ease up, to merge his ideas, or let go of his stubborn pride.

However, what ultimately makes it for Madara is the constant expression of trust and devotion. He may not be the best communicator around, he could actually run an award for being the worst, but as long as the intentions are clearly expressed, as long as the vision remains clear, Madara will keep his faith.

This doesn’t mean constant reassurance, that would actually annoy the man. No, it means transparency, responsibility, ownership. Promises made are fulfilled, plans are put into action. If Madara hates anything it is a standstill, bureaucracy, a pause in an otherwise thriving plan.

This might be hypocritical from Madara’s side, but forgiveness and objectivity are also huge themes for Madara. To be able to let go of old grudges, no matter how huge. To be able to let go of past biases and discrimination for the sake of the ideal. That will win huge points with Madara in his ‘one’.

Ultimately it is a human Madara wants to spend his life with. Someone that will see him as human as well, as a man. Someone who can see past the battle that he was born and raised in and can forgive the blood that stains his hands. Ultimately Madara just wants someone who wishes for peace as desperately as he does and is willing to sacrifice everything for that peace.

So, even if they fail all of his ‘tests’ Madara would still make up an excuse of: “Guess they pass for that little part”, because ultimately what Madara wants is something he probably doesn’t realise himself.

Tobirama

The ‘one’ for Tobirama is someone that needs to have the patience in dealing with him. They need to be someone that will tolerate his moods and his flares, that will have the patience to extinguish his fire when his temper flares up, because his temper is great.

He doesn’t need or want someone who will accept his behaviour, or will clean up after him. No, Tobirama is a man who sometimes needs to be put back into his place, be kept into check and called out for his nonsense. Someone who is able to do that, anyone who is daring enough to do it for him, will be good for the man.

Not that he will often listen. Like Madara it requires patience and it takes time before this man is able to begrudgingly let go of his own pride.

Tobirama is serious in character, rarely giving himself a moment to let go, or to relax. Some may say that he has something stuck up his butt, or that his milk was too sour as a babe. Someone that can counter that, be the sweet to his bitter, the smile to his frown, be the path in his forest of problems.

The part that makes Tobirama realise that they are ‘the one’ for him is the realisation that he is suddenly putting in the effort to be likeable. Something he never put any thought or effort in before. People that can’t accept him aren’t worth his time. People who cannot see past his exterior even less so. Tobirama never made it a habit to be liked, for he didn’t see the use in it.

However, with them around Tobirama starts to want to be liked. Or at least accepted, at least by them. He doesn’t want to be just another passing face. He doesn’t want to be one of the many ninja that they have encountered, or another rigid leader with zero interest other than his own goals. He wants to be viewed as a human by them.

The moment he realises that, that he is putting in this effort, is the moment where he freezes and where he will distance himself, admonishing himself for this moment of weakness.

Honestly, he isn’t a man who will act upon it, brash as he is. His brother may try to push him, for his brother is the sort of person to take action, and Hashirama would notice the shift in attitude. Tobirama will, however, deny it vehemently and try to ignore it.

Now, if ‘the one’ happens to confess to Tobirama first the man will embrace it wholeheartedly. He won’t try to fight it, or try to convince himself otherwise when it is within his grasp and already his.

Otherwise this man might just pine from afar and not do anything to act upon his feelings, because he is Tobirama Senju and he is a ninja and neither do emotions.

#Headcanon #naruto #hashirama senju #hashirama #madara uchiha #madara #tobirama #tobirama senju

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vesperlionheart · 7 years ago

Text

The Barn 11

It wasn’t morning when Sakura awoke next, but hours later when the sky was dark and burning with the promise of a not too far off sunrise. She could feel her magic spent and shallow, but the cuts were all but faded across her body.

She stood and looked herself over in the mirror, hesitant to touch the gauze bandage taped over her face and lip. She pulled back half the tape first and lifted the gauze. There was no cut, but a trail of piner skin still showed off even in the dim of the room what had once been there. She grinned like a bulldog, if only she bit as hard as one.

“It’s been years since I wanted to hurt someone,” she mused out loud, speaking to her own reflection like it had an opinion to offer back. “Just like it’s been years since I’ve touched my magic. What a coincidence.”

She channeled magic into her bones around her hand and let it glow green before hovering it over the pink scar. Bit by bit, she worked the skin back into a healthy color that bore no resemblance to the damage it once glared. Healing had become easier in her old age like they said it would. The older you grew the easier things were to control and manipulate, but the less vigor you had over magic. That was the trade off.

‘But a bone witch will hold her magic longer than the others. You won’t have to worry about controlling or manipulating magic when you’re your mother’s age. You’ll be able to outlast them all.’

She let the magic stay in her hand, softly burning in her bones with no real goal or purpose other than to exist and be felt. It was warm with life to the touch, and langnuid in its unformed state. If she closed her eyes she could almost smell it, but the exact nature of the scent escaped her. It was easier to notice other’s scents, but she could never pin down her own.

Sakura was starting to admit to herself that magic was like a bad habit or a warm bed, easy to climb inside of and harder to slip away from.

Why had she given up magic in the first place?

Sakura indulged and it felt like sinning when she channeled what was left of her magic through her body and built up the fibers of her muscles, the tissues and sinews, the knit of her skin and construct of her form to its prime with healing magic. Her bones burned and sang, seeping warm magic through her until it felt like she had run marathons daily for decades. It was a high that sent her brain reeling with glee.

She felt like she had to keep using her magic until it was spent. What else could she do?

She lifted her left hand to try something else and suddenly the magic rubbed raw there. She felt the rough texture like sandpaper under her magic and had to recoil. Her high came crashing down as the shock traveled up her arm and she stumbled backwards, hitting the edge of the bed with her hip and sliding down. She gripped her throbbing wrist and held it tight with her good hand, watching as her knuckles turned white and the skin turned red.

‘Remember what you did, remember what you lost!’

The message was clear as fate and it was enough to bring her back. Sakura screwed her eyes shut and braced with her toes curling into the carpet for purchase. She felt the deep places of her settle and thanked God she hadn’t gone too far and touched the black magic underneath it all.

They spoke of hitting your limit like crashing to the ground after flying, suddenly having nowhere to go. That was true for everyone else, but not for Sakura. She brought her grave digging shovel and she was ready to dig when she got to that point.when others got to the end of their magic they stopped or were stopped, but those conventions held her like wet paper and she knew there was something more than just her limits to explore. There was more to unearth in the moist soil of her magic, and She did so because she knew there was something worth finding there.

She looked up to the mirror and swallowed, searching for any of the telling signs, but her skin was unmarred and just as pale and plain as expected. There were no patches of black blotting like ink drops anywhere, and her eyes were wide and scared, but still hers. There was no voice either.

“Stupid,” Sakura said out loud to herself.

She felt like an idiot. It had only been for a minute, but for that small moment in time she had forgotten what she swore she would never forget. So many years ago she had paid for her greed with the dexterity of her left hand and the peace of mind that came with knowing your magic wasn’t sentient and malicious.

Back then Sakura just wanted to be the best witch she could be.

Now all she wanted to be was sane.

She dressed, threw out the old bandages, and left with a folded note on the bed for Kakuzu to find when he woke. The walk back to the barn was mundane and long, by the time she made it her feet were sore and the sun was well risen, but her head was a little neater. When she opened the door and saw the breakfast cooking she was able smile and joke.

Everything was back to being mostly fine.

“I hope you saved some for me.”

“Shopping?” Madara echoed, already frowning at the idea of it. “Please no, I don’t want to go out today.”

“You don’t have to. I can find stuff for you if you want to stay behind, but I think it would be good to do something a little more mundane and normal. It’s been a little too crazy for me lately and I need to get some of you caught up with the times more than others.”

“I thought you could just magic our clothes,” Gaara said with a wiggle of his fingers to help illustrate his words. “You don’t need to spend your money on us.”

Sakura grinned and held up a black matted credit card. “It’s not my money. The Uzumaki coven will be covering this bill. Kakuzu had one of their cards and I helped myself. I’m thinking of it as payback for their overzealous monitoring.”

“Is that the real reason you want to go out?” Gaara guessed.

“Oh please,” Konan interrupted. “There are reasons other than revenge to go out and spend someone else’s money.”

“Like?” Gaara asked.

“Shoes!” Sakura interjected quickly, because it was the first basic, normal thing that came into her head that had nothing to do with magic or demons or black marks that spread like a plague.

Konan looked backwards over her shoulder at Sakura before facing Gaara again and nodding. “Yeah, pretty things. Besides that, it would be good reconnaissance for us. If we want to blend in here we should study the people and the culture. Madara, you’re the only one with clearance to actually pick up a job here, you need to come with us.”

Madara glared. “I don’t want a job. It would leave the Barn unguarded.”

“What are we?” Konan exclaimed, looking offended.

“Inferior,” he replied without missing a beat.

“I’ll go with you if there are star drinks,” Gaara whispered to Sakura, watching Madara and Konan get into another argument.

“Sure, let me get my things and we can go.”

Sakura punched in her code for the day and reached for her purse left by the kitchen counter. It was there she noticed the vase of flowers. Pretty yellow and orange foxglove stalks were clustered together. Sakura reached for one, more red than orange, and pulled it free from the waters.

Behind her someone called her name and Sakura blinked, replacing the stalk in the vase and turning away. She didn’t bother asking who left the foxglove in her kitchen, she had seen the same flowers in Kakuzue’s home and remembered it was the Uzumaki's coven flower, appearing on their family crest along with the grinning fox leaping over a human skull that sat atop a pair of crossed arrows.

In addition to just being a favorite flower, they were also convenient conduits of magic for people who weren't bone witches.

Sakura jingled her keys. “I’m ready to leave. Anyone who wants to tag along can come, otherwise I’ll lock the door behind me and expect to be let back in when we come back.” She leveled her eyes on Madara. “Okay?”

Madara lowered his chin but stood up from where he had been leaning so he was taller than her again. His arms were still crossed, but he wasn’t turned away from her at least.

Sakura didn’t wait for his answer, but headed for the car and hoped he followed. Konan took the passenger’s front seat and Gaara slipped in the back. Sakura didn’t hear anything else but when she looked in the rearview mirror Madara was there, just as dour with his arms still crossed.

Sakura drove them somewhere a little out of the city, where the shops were older and less unkept. The trees arched over the roadways and shed leaves of gold and crimson all the way down. Sakura glanced off to the side and saw the rows of brick front homes converted into shop fronts and turned away in the opposite direction.

Not far from the foliage was a tucked away strip mall old enough to have affordable prices and new enough to still sell overpriced confectionary drinks. Sakura parked and looked back to see Madara was gone again, leaving her alone with Gaara and Konan.

“Well, he’s not getting star drinks,” Gaara huffed, less bothered by Madara’s disappearing act than Sakura.

Two hours later Sakura had spent three grand on clothes, shoes, and useless accessories, but felt the need to use her own money to pay for Gaara’s drink in the mall.

Konan sat down on the bench alongside Sakura, dropping the bags to settle beside them on the floor. She sounded tired but Sakura knew she wasn’t, since Konan had the most energy when it came to buying new things, a trait Sakura admired and found relatable.

“When I was younger, much younger, the family would have these champion games for fun, but really it was just the young kids showing off their magic. If you won you got something nice, some years it was a diamond tennis bracelet, a fine bottle of merlot, a champion thoroughbred for your stables, or a day trip to the mall with one of these little black cards.”

“What sort of games were they?” Konan asked, recognizing the note of nostalgia in Sakura’s voice.

“Games that ended with blood, mostly. There were puzzles sometimes, but Naruto was so stupid Kushina tried to shy away from those. When Mito was still alive she didn’t play favorites like that and kept the courses traditional. The Wheel, The Courage, The Star, The Hanged Man, all different games. Find your way through the maze, untangle the illusion from reality before the real threat gets to you, track the monster before it is free on the world to kill, dig down to the end of your magic and then go further.” Sakura shrugged in a way that was practiced. ”Games like those.”

“Did you ever win any games?”

“The Hermit, actually. It was a fancy masked party, a masquerade, and by the end of the night someone close to us would be dead if the hermit wasn’t discovered or unmasked. Who didn’t fit in this party, use your magic to find out.”

“How did you discover it?”

Sakura’s grin was wry. “He was the only one there less at ease than me. It wasn’t a good example and Kushina had a little fit because I never used my magic, but Mito said...it was more than just how much magic or what spells you knew, but the character of a person in a lion’s den, or something like that. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was just glad I had beat Karin who was a sensor and the obvious favorite. She won the most.”

“It sounds like becoming a witch suited you. Why did you give it up? Finances would have been supplied by the family, I assume, so that’s not the reason,” Konan mused, looking over at Sakura with eyes too keen to swallow deception.

Sakura smiled, but her lips were dry and her throat was close to cotton.

“You know the last game I was a part of was The Wheel. There was this huge roulette table we had to find and spin. Depending on what it landed on we ended up fighting or facing a challenge. Naruto ended up fighting a low powered clone of himself, Karin was stuck unraveling an illusion, Tayuya was stuck in a room with walls closing in a little bit every few seconds, and I….I rolled the Black Knight.”

“What does that mean?”

“It was a construct made from magic, or it was supposed to be, but there was something more to it and it was unlike anything mechanical when I stripped it down there was just teeth and eyes and darkness that swallowed all my magic until it devoured me. It was an undying thing.”

Sakura closed her eyes to the memory.

She hit the ground, the end, the limits of her magic. She had spent it all and she was at rock bottom. That’s when she picked of her grave shovel and started to dig until her skin was the color of topsoil and her teeth were just as long as her nighmares.

“Kushina’s attempt to kill me went very differently. Remember, Menma?”

Sakura opened her eyes and saw the dark haired twin scowling down at her. Sakura’s smile was a lazy stretch of her lips as Konan tensed alongside her. Gaara put a hand on Sakura’s shoulder, making his presence known to her.

“Naruto won that fight fair and square. It was just an unlucky spin,” Menma grumbled in a voice like gravel.

“Sure it was,” Sakura cooed, eyes creased and playful. “And it all turned out okay in the end, didn’t it? What else are you doing in my neck of the woods, cousin?”

“We thought you were Karin. She’s the only one who spends this much.”

“You could just call her,” Sakura flippantly replied, knowing full well how Karin had defected from the family coven two days ago. She also knew she wasn’t supposed to know about how Karin had left the family in such an ugly way. It was embarrassing to admit, probably.

“Funny thing about women and cellphones, they don’t like to use them when they’re angry with you.”

“Karin’s angry with you? I thought she was fond of you boys.” Sakura teased. A part of her in the back of her brain was commending her for being so brave while another part was cursing her for being so stupid. Menma could tear her open if he wanted to.

But he wouldn’t.

“Women get angry without reason all the time, regardless of how fond they may be of a person or thing,” he huffed.

“That sounds like something someone who wasn’t able to get a girlfriend would say. I know mama bear was the sheltering type, but I didn’t think she was so bad. You know it’s illegal to date your cousins so what are you doing tracking down Karin on your own?”

Sakura saw his face fill with color. “It’s not like that, why you have to make everything a joke?”

“Why do you have to be so funny?”

“You have a problem with that mouth of yours.”

Sakura wants to respond on that snap instinct of hers that would have made a witty comeback about that not being what his mom said last night, or something in that vein of rhetoric, but she held herself back in time. Menma was touchy when it came to his mother and she felt that she might push him a little too much if she said something like that.

Naruto was mother’s favorite, not him.

Sakura leaned forward, resting the back of her fist under her chin. “You have a problem with my mouth? Cute. I haven’t heard that one before. You gonna say something original or do I have to listen to the same lines as your brother?”

She blew him a playful kiss that kept his face red.

“Shut up. I was just here because I thought you might be Karin. It’s not like the rest of the family cares that much about what happens to her next. At least I tried. At least I-”

His words cut off when Sakura thrust forward a single finger to touch his lips and stop him. Behind her Gaara was also tense. The area around them was silent, devoid of humans. Even the people inside the shops seemed gone or out of sight. Suddenly it was too quiet for a mall.

“Sakura,” Konan whispered, touching the younger girl in warning.

“No, I feel it too. Where did Madara run off to?”

“It’s not him,” Gaara said.

Sakura pulled back her finger and stood, facing the direction of the magic that had begun to trickle from. It was familiar and intentional and teasing all at once, making it hard for Sakura to breath.

“Karin?”

Menma exclaimed as the redhead rounded the corner and came into view, looking stunning as always in thin black stilettos and a long mink fur coat. There might have been a little shadow under her eyes, but her makeup was flawless and a perfect mask to the world of her true exhaustions.

Karin smiled and waved to the pair of them with just her fingers. “I heard you were looking for me, Menma. Sorry Sakura dearest, I didn’t mean for you to become a part of this. Before we have our girl talk let me take care of the pest, okay?”

It was an interesting idea, because on their own, Menma and Karin were almost evenly matched, with Karin showing more skill and talent in the end. If Sakura stepped back she didn’t doubt Karin would win. That wasn’t a bad things...but….

Sakura turned and looked behind them where two new figures stood, one she recognized, one she didn’t. Tayuya smiled and waved from beside the boy taller and paler than her. Sakura felt instantly unsettled by the sight of him.

“Who are your friends?” Sakura asked.

Menma looked behind him and cursed too, seeing the new faces for the first time. It looked more and more like a trap for him. He wouldn’t be able to beat Karin on his own easily, especially not if Karin had backup.

“Well, some of them are busy looking for that last friend of yours, tricky bastard, but the ones you see here are your cousin Tayuya and Kimimaro. Say hello and be polite, won’t you dolls?” Karin cooed with a wave of her hand. Her nails were painted a bright red to match her lips and hair. She looked better than she had last they saw each other.

“This is a public place, let’s be civil about it, alright?” Sakura cautioned, raising both her palms and grinning over at Tayuya and the other man. “Right?”

“You’re not as uninvolved as you would like to be,” Menma growled sidelong at Sakura. “You think they’ll leave you alone? They’ll try to take you like he did with your other cousins. Stupid girls.”

“Not very nice, Menma.”

Karin pointed a finger and Sakura heard the magic hit and latch onto his body. Menma choked as the blood inside him began to heat. His eyes bulged and he reached for his own magic to break the hold before his blood boiled.

He snarled and the marks on his face grew darker. Gaara reached for Sakura to tug her back and away, Konan rising to flank her as they turned together to run. In the way Tayuya and the other man stood, blocking their path.

“You’re outnumbered,” Sakura tried.

“Those two can’t use their magic freely unless they want to run out faster. You gonna force them into that?” Tayuya asked, grin mocking. She pulled out her flute and turned it over once before taping it to her lips. “Just come quietly with us while Karin deals with the brat. Our Patriarch has something he would like to talk to you about.”

“I can guess the rest,” said Sakura. “Is it one of those, join me or die sort of deals? Someone mentioned a coven rising up to take down our family. What he say to get you to join?”

“Nothing extraordinary. I was ready with just the thought of revenge. You ready to go?”

Konan reached in front of Sakura and her skin started to peel into paper. Sakura grabbed the older woman to stop her, knowing that Konan and the others only had a limited amount of magic before they ran out and were sent back into the screaming void she had first pulled them out of.

“Let me do this much. I can’t just watch,” Konan hissed, looking more pissed than Sakura thought she had ever seen the woman. “They threaten you right in front of me. I can’t allow that.”

“It’s just smack talk. It’s not your problem-”

“It is if it has to deal with you!” Konan interrupted. “I won’t sit back and watch this again. Don’t ask me to endure such a thing.”

“I as well,” said Gaara, hand back on her shoulder. “It’s not fair that you take care of us all the time without asking for anything in return. Plus, I don’t want to see you bleed again.”

“Fine, let’s beat her down a little before talks and cake, yeah?”

The other girl laughed before rising her flute and blowing. The man moved at the first note and Gaara rushed forward to combat the physical strike while Konan unfolded into a thousand papers, thickening to absorb the blast of sound.

But then, too fast to know how it happened, Menma was thrown through the air, landing on the other side of the mall clearing where they all could see the state of his body, bound in gold chains. Sakura turned and Karin was there. She smiled playfully and then just pointed to where Gaara was fighting, making no move to do anything further.

Sakura turned and felt her heart sink. Gaara was doing his best with the little breakdown of sand he had transmuted from cloth or chair or bench, but the man named Kimimaro was too fast with a sword as pale as bone and smelling just like one.

‘“You’re not the only bone witch out there, cous.”

Sakura started to fly through hand seals, forgetting that she didn’t need them anymore. “Abort mission now!”

“But Madara-”

“He’ll be fine on his own!”

Sakura pulled a bone from her wrist, still slick with fluids and threw it between Gaara and the other bone witch male, knowing it wouldn’t hit but hoping it would be intercepted. She was finished with her own seals, she just needed to get in contact with both Gaara and Konan again.

Kimimaro caught the bone and stopped, rising out of his stance to hold it in one hand and eye it critically.

Sakura used that moment to grab Koan, or what was left of her paper body, and then turn for Gaara. He was close, but she dragged Konan with her to touch him because that was important, they had to be connected otherwise it didn’t work.

She grabbed Gaara and felt bone between her ribs, ripping through her shirt from an outside source. It was pain, but she grit through it and pulsed magic into the seal that would take them all back to the place in the middle of her living room where a seal had been painted right after the incident at the festival.

She saw sticking out of her side, her same bone, thrown back at her. The boy was glaring at her and it was a glare that promised another encounter-one she wouldn’t be able to run away from.

#kimimaro #Sakura #the barn #barn #Menma #Gaara #Madara #Konan #fight fight fight #bone witch #the other bone witch shows up

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dreamscript · 8 years ago

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HEY IT ME AGAIN-- LITERALLY SAME I GOT SICK AND LIKE IM STILL COUGHING AND I WANT IT TO STOP. LIKE. RIGHT. NOW. I hope you feel better soon! I can only imagine how bad you're suffering! Make sure to get lots of rest and binge watch Naruto hehehehe// I got sick around Christmas so it's kinda just here// But yeah lol just excuse me late responses (; 7 ; ) and yas girl just embrace you're inner otaku its okay xD (i wanna re-read Naruto actually//) OMG YES PLZ I LOVE YOUR FICS AND-

{CONT} YO HOW DARE YOU WRITE THAT JUNGKOOK FIC IM SHOOKED JKSDFNKJD// LMAO IF THAT AINT ME IN ANY MATH CLASS FUKFFKFKKFKF BUT ITS OKAY YOU CAN DO IT I BELIEVE IN YOU! There was freezing rain here a day or so ago. That was fun . u . (sobs) IF YOU COULD TWEEK MY BLOG OMG ID LOVE THAT. But the theme isn’t originally mine and I’d assume the original owner wouldn’t want the original code changed?

{CONT} IDK I wanted to change my theme for a while now // Something not endless scroll but just boxes for previews? Also I wanted a minimalistic theme based with pastel colours and black and white hehe/ ANYWAY NO NO WORRIES SOMETIMES IM JUST HERE WONDERING IF YOONGI SUED BIGHIT FOR DYING HIS HAIR TOO FREQUENTLY AND NOW HE BALD (LOL) BUT YEAH APPARENTLY THEY ARE SUPPOSE TO HAVE A COMEBACK IN FEBRUARY AND MY WALLET IS UPSET. I ALSO WANT THE NEW ARMY STICK FOR NO GOOD REASON AT ALL LOL

{CONT 3 xD} I’ve only read Naruto Manga so if you wanna screech with me about that lets do it ahaha/ HECK YES I WILL READ THEIR FIC- I WILL NOT STUDY JAHAJSDSDKJF Shout out to Cat and Fae too like i seriously love their fics- your Christmas series had me shooked!! Anyways I have so much work to do and so i will bother you later :) - Sakura !

IM HEALED AND BETTER NOW THANK YOU I HOPE YOU’RE FINE NOW TOO??!?! but i remember my doctor telling me once that if you’re still coughing like a month later you should get it checked out or something D:

and oh. my. god.

naruto.

LISTEN I LITERALLY CRY EVERYTIME IT MAKES ME SO EMO. I WATCHED NARUTO THE ROAD TO NINJA MOVIE LIKE TWO NIGHTS AGO AND I CRIED LIKE A BABY WATCHING HIM INTERACT WITH HIS PARENTS AND ALL LIKE D’:: highkey still hated on sasuke though

but yeah no it’s okay! i have super late responses as of late…. and it’s really only because i’ve been too emotionally spent by the end of the day or tired or busy or just “not feeling it”

idk, but i hope to get back into being more active. i miss this place. i miss interacting with others, as little of it i seem to be doing right now (guh _ _)

LOL I HAVE SO MANY SEX SCENES ALREADY PREWRITTEN OUT FOR HTE JUNGKOOK FIC AND SO NOW THAT I’VE GOT THE HARDEST PARTS DONE, IT’S JUST DOWN TO FILLING IN THE PLOT AND SUCH. aaaand that’s kinda hard too, but i think i’ll manage. hopefully.

(help)

dude it was rainy and windy and cold today and i had to go outside and the entire time i was walking/running/dying to class i was thinking a) why b) this was a Mistake

ah well in regards to your theme, usually the theme makers are okay with minor changes (sometimes major ones too) as long as you keep the credit and the changes are for personal use (as opposed to commercial use/redistribution, etc). just to be sure, you can just check their rules. they usually have that whole page/pop up or will simply include it in their theme code.

hmm what do you mean by boxes for previews? i don’t think i’ve ever seen such as thing. it sounds interesting, though. are they previews for like posts or…?

YEAH OMG I’M REALLY EXCITED BECAUSE FEBRUARY IS BOTH MINE AND ALSO @taesthetes‘ BIRTHDAY MONTH SO ITS LIKE A BIRTHDAY PRESENT WOOHOO

thank you for loving our collaboration! i’m still amazed on how quickly we got things put together and everything… honestly… cat and @zephyoongist are so talented i don’t know what i’m doing here :’) (or where i would be without them)

and now finally…

(for the maaaain event)…

okaY OKAY I WILL SCREECH WITH YOU ABOUT NARUTO. RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW. just under the cut because spoilers:

I’M SUCH AN EMOTIONAL WRECK OVER NARUTO THE ONLY BEST WAY I CAN TRULY EXPRESS MY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AT THE MOMENT IS JUST THROUGH BULLET POINTS SO:

i love kakashi

i also love gaara. i can’t choose between the two, but lately i’ve been more biased towards kakashi. i blame it on my sister because she’s always had a thing for him

(i still love you gaara its okay my sand child)

kakashi’s backstory had me in tears… like… with obito died and he’s telling kakashi he’ll give him his sharingan (the sharingan that he’d always been talking about that would get him to hokage) to be his eye to see the future…

i just..

fucking broke down man like dude… stop… you’re killing me here… and then how kakashi really changes afterwards

(okay but listen child kakashi was savage as fuck though and it was hilarious)

(also i know it’s a filler but that one episode in which it showed guy and kakashi comparing dick sizes as kids….,,..,.

….,,..i wasn’t expecting that at all but i don’t mind the info heheheheh heh /dies)

OKAY BUT THEN RIN DIES WHY

literally if she hadn’t died a lot of the issues in naruto wouldn’t have occurred but they fucking did

no i’m not blaming her she died for a noble reason okay it just makes me really sad i’m sorry

AND FINALLY MINATO DIES TOO AND KAKASHI IS THE LAST OF HIS TEAM IM EMO

on a side note minato and kushina were cute as fuck

ANYWAYS GAARA OH MY OH MY GOD MY POOR BABY as a kid he was so cute and just wanted some friends and was out helping all those villagers and such but then his damned dad just had to go and screw those things up like STOP IT HE;S MY CHILD

even though i love those two, my favorites are actually the akatsuki

like. they hate each other but istg they secretly love each other like have you seen kakuzu and hidan’s interactions??? they tease and insult and threaten (and have killed) each other but kakuzu is actually patient with hidan’s rituals and such, and hidan will still accompany kakuzu to the collection centers

also, when he sees asuma’s guardian shinobi thing the first thing that comes to mind is kakuzu and how he’d want him for the money and he’s like u gh but like !!!

and AND when hidan at first thinks he’s accidentally killed kakuzu in his fight with shikamaru & co., he has that look of panic ooooh my god I JUST GASHUDFJSDIJASD

also hidan is just hilarious. like when they go to recruit him he’s like “who are you guys, all wearing the same clothes?? are you guys an orchestra or band or something?”

/points at kakuzu/ bet you play the bass

/points at konan/ bet the girl does vocals and keyboards

/points at itachi/ …or do you do vocals…?

and then the first thing hidan and kakuzu do to each other is kill each other

the look of utter disbelief on both of their faces

“what the–why aren’t you dead?”

“bitch that hurt–wait. why aren’t you dead?”

but anyways we can’t forget about itachi and kisame either, now can we?? like. they are actually like the only partner group that openly got along with each other, and they were sad oh my god they were sad upon realizing each other’s death’s

and idk just the way kisame says “itachi-san” does something to me

i t a c h i

oh boy i have so much to say about this kid

but before i move on i must! address! the others!!

okay so like deidara is actually op as fuck and sometimes idk i feel like he doesnt get enough credit?? idk.

BUT LIKE LISTEN OKAY HE GOES THREE DAYS AND THREE NIGHTS TO SEAL THE ICHIBI AKA SHUKAKU AKA GAARA’S TAILED BEAST and then immediately after decides to take on naruto (and kakashi)

AND HE ONLY HAD ONE ARM AT THE TIME HAVING JUST LOST ONE IN HIS FIGHT WITH GAARA LIKE WHAT IS THIS STAMINA AND HOW DOES HE NOT BLEED OUT THIS KID IS FUCKING AMAZING WHAT THE HELL

and he’s 19 like lol what bye

but anyways, after his “fight” he loses his other arm because kakashi and now he’s armless BUT THIS KID STILL HOLDS HIS OWN though completely on the defense AGAINST TEAM GAI LIKE WHAT THE FUCK HE’S AMAZING and then he manages to create a bomb without using any sort of handseals and fools them all into thinking he’s dead

i love this boy give him a metal why did he have to die so early why (yet another reason why i dislike sasuke lmfao)

black zetsu scares the fuck out of me (esp when i learned of his true past and intentions) but white zetsu!! he’s such a sweetie holy shit

I JUST REALLY LIKED THAT TIME WHEN HE BURSTS INTO THE 5 KAGE SUMMIT AND HE’S LIKE “HALLLLOOO!!!!!!” WITH THE ARMS AND EVERYTHING DAW OMG

and also unlike so many others he actually likes everyone and when he saves deidara he’s like “you’re a fun guy to be around” and then and then later when he’s talking to tobi he reveals that he’s sad that so many of the akatsuki members died like D::

let’s not forget when black zetsu called him weak (they had split in two at the time) and white zetsu just kind of D: and wilts a little like ooHH NO oo baby it’s okay it’s okay

ahem

konan is so strong… holy crap… like… her ultimate attack? with the bajillion paper explosive tags disguised as a lake?? that go off for 10 minutes? holy fuck.

yahiko’s pretty damn hot if you ask me (yes i know he’s a cadaver in the main time period but listen)

idk my favorite arc of the entire thing was pain’s invasion of konoha… like from the moment jiraiya’s message arrived to when everyone got revived…. and then kakashi almost became hokage…

it was fantastic

i think it’s mainly because it was a mystery, race against time, battle thing all in one and it was so neat i guess

also you could see everyone in the village working together, fighting their hardest, showing their potentials for like, the first time ever

um um um okay sasori mentally scarred me as a child, and now whenever i hear the rattling puppet noises i immediately think of these scary nightmares i had after watching his fight with sakura… yeah, puppets scare me a lot now

orochimaru is a creep ‘nuff said moving on

tobi! i love this alternate ego of obito/”madara” like idk he’s so jumpy and honestly it’s fucking hilarious watching him because he’s so secretly op certain people underestimate him at first (and then others overestimate him because of his association with akatsuki)

like. when he was warding off konoha from itachi vs sasuke’s fight (which i am still emo about) he was just like playing whack-a-mole with them and then he’s like lemme use this ability! frill-necked lizard!

and they all kinda stand and stare at him intensely execting something legit

but in reality that’s it. the extent of htat ability is just him hanging upside down with the cloack falling behind him to look like a frill-necked lizard

and it’s fucking hilarious

i also thought it was fucking adorable when he and deidara first confront sasuke

and the little bitch goes ahead and slices through him

literally through him

and HE MAKES THE MOST ADORABLE NOISE BEFORE FALLING FLAT ON HIS FACE GAH

but sasuke thinks that he actually killed him and sasuke’s all like “one down”

and deidara just kinda

ugh this kid

and tobi gets up and brushes himself off like wow that was rly fast!!! and sasuke just >:/

URM OKAY ENOUGH ABOUT THE AKATSUKI MEMBERS

sorry i thought i should make this clear but i lowkey highkey have this vendetta thing against sasuke like this little shit

i mean ofc i know the reason for his disillusionment really isn’t all his fault like @ itachi really?

like really when he goes back to konoha and sasuke tries to kill him… he goes and easily breaks his wrist

and he kinda just considers him for a moment like

…hm

how about i….. make his situation even worse…?

and then traps him in a genjutsu that forces him to relive their parents death for 24 hours like why the fuck this is literally all your fault

and also on a side note, fuck danzo. why the fuck did the 3rd not kill him when he was supposed to. why. all the wrong people lived for far too long.

anyways

but yeah no idk i just really don’t like sasuke after he defected and became a Vengeful Teen

AND ITACHI’S STORY MAKES ME CRY EVERY TIME HOLY SHIT IT MAKES ME SO SAD WHY DID THIS BOY HAVE TO SUFFER SO MUCH and then mess up his little brother’s psyche to the point in which he starts killing like everyone wtf

AHEM

another favorite moment arc of mine is the very beginning

like the first 15ish episodes

IRUKA SENSEI

he’s such a blessing. he’s literally one of those crucially important side characters and i appreciate him and i love him and it would’ve been nice to see more of him, but hey, that’s okay too.

(his part in the naruto road to ninja movie had me in tears. like at the end. fucking tears.)

like naruto and kakashi may be super close and stuff, but when he needs someone as a guardian, naruto turns to iruka and idk i feel that says a lot about their relationship and it makes me cry all the fucking time

um anyways yes i also love zabuza

he’s so strong and empowered

AND THAT WHOLE ARC MADE ME CRY A LOT TOO AND THE FACT THAT IT BECOMES SUCH AN IMPORTANT PART OF THE STORY MAKES ME SO FUCKING HAPPY

i have a lot more the say probably but it’s getting late and i need to take a shower and sleep and get up early in the morning to make food so i’ll just leave it at that

(i wrote a lot i know i’m sorry)

(hope i didn’t blow you away with any spoilers D:)

#my naruto gushing got a bit out of hand but i regret nothing #also when i say i cry #I ACTUALLY CRY #LIKE FULL ON CRYING #I NOW HAVE A BOX OF TISSUES ON MY DESK BECAUSE OF THIS #replies #love people #polarbearchan

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