#kakuzu's face ended up looking wrong

[junk-heart]

Zombi combi but actually zombies

In my au Kakuzu got bitten early on, when the outbreak was starting, but he somehow regained the ability to control his body, and now he lives in symbiosis with the virus (he still needs to eat people tho)

Hidan is immune, and he got into a weird cult that worships zombies/indulges in cannibalism, and they see him as their messiah cause he can't turn, even though he got bitten many times

More art beneath the cut

He used to be an office worker, got turned at work

Clothes he wears are the cleanest ones with most coverage he managed to find at work after he regained consciousness, so they don't really fit him

Tries to appear human so he doesn't instantly get hunted

Hidan started following him around after trying to eat him and figuring out he's the only other "conscious zombie"

He is not infected, but thinks he's a zombie nonetheless (cause of the cult)

[tozettastone]

So… akatsuki ranked by hugging capabilities when?

Okay. That's a good one. I'll answer that one.

--

10. Zetsu

Zetsu doesn't know what's happening and he might digest you. I would say he does not have hugging capabilities.

9. Kakuzu

Absolutely not. This man trusted someone one time to try it out and he has looked upon that moment with profound regret ever since. He does not do well with physical affection.

Do not hug Kakuzu. Do not make physical contact with Kakuzu. Honestly, if at all possible, do not even make eye contact with Kakuzu.

8. Konan

Konan is as distant as a statue until she has committed herself to a goal. She disdains most social bonds, and I don't think she hugs often even among people she regards as close. I think she is wary of obligation because she takes obligations very seriously. If someone takes comfort from her, what will they want next?

She will offer an arm to Nagato on a bad day, but he usually refuses anyway. Extremely low hugging capabilities.

7. Nagato

Nagato would certainly benefit from hugging but I see no indication that his hugging capabilities are especially developed. Besides, he's kind of immobilised, and the animated corpses he's piloting aren't exactly comfortable participants.

I think he and Konan were both much, much better at this before Yahiko's death. Very low hugging capabilities.

6. Tobi

Tobi is absolutely 100% capable of hugging properly. He scores highly in hugging capability. Technically. But, one, I think you will not be very good at actually landing a hug on this man. And, two, if you do, he's dissociating because he can't confront other people's positive regard for him, and your body is so much meat to him.

On the balance of probabilities, this is more likely safe to attempt than not. Tobi is more amused by making fun of people than killing them for touching him. But I just don't think hugging Tobi is, like, very productive.

5. Sasori

This one's interesting, because Sasori has actually practiced hugging — with his parents' corpses, right? As with all skills, practice helps you perform better! But I don't think Sasori has a very good relationship with his own body and I don't think he views other people as particularly more agential than the dead bodies.

So I'm ranking him somewhere in the middle: no natural hugging gifts, some practice, very little inclination to participate. Don't hug Sasori, because if you get that close at all, something is already very wrong.

4. Deidara

Deidara appears to be among the most socially normative of this cohort. I imagine he has, at some point, had at least one affectionate kohai among the Rock ninja he left behind. However, as an adult (uh, as a... teen over the age of ninja majority, anyway) Deidara appears highly suspicious of people attempting to initiate contact with him.

Moderate hugging capabilities, but if he thinks you're tricking him or you're being too familiar for the strictly defined relationship category you occupy in Deidara's head, you're going to be rebuffed. It won't be fatal... the first time.

3. Hidan

Hidan is an athletic guy who's used to feeling what other people are feeling and getting up close and personal with their physical experiences of their bodies. I really think Hidan is among the better huggers in this cohort. Capabilities genuinely pretty strong.

That said, hugging Hidan is a gamble. Either you get a bone-creaking squeeze from someone who is tall, warm, and has absolutely no issues with physical contact, or you end up dead. You would be rolling the dice on this one. Remember: eventually, the house always wins.

2. Kisame

Kisame does not have a lot of practice at exercising his hugging capabilities. Most people don't look at a giant shark man with a face full of razor sharp teeth and a sword as big as a teenager and think, 'ah, yes, a perfect source of physical affection.'

But I think as long as you don't startle him with any sudden movements he will respond to being hugged by very carefully lowering his arm over his hugging buddy's shoulders. It's weird but he's not mad. Pretty safe option.

1. Itachi

Itachi is not great at hugging but people who receive Itachi hugs are so impressed that they hardly notice. Also, it's pretty safe to hug Itachi: the worst outcome is that you discover you're hugging an illusion and feel mildly humiliated while everyone is impressed you even attempted such a feat.

He ranks this highly because I sincerely believe that as a big brother, he has attempted to hug at least one other (live) human being before. Sasuke might not have been old enough to remember it, but he's done it successfully and nobody died.

[justsasuke]

Akatsuki scars

For @animucomedy Because I don’t usually do akatsuki content but I’m making an exception for you. (Sorry it took a million years T^T). Also I only did the main members of Akatsuki (except Zetsu and Tobi)...hope that's OK.

Inspired by this post

. . .

Hidan: there isn’t a part of him that isn’t a scar. He carves himself up in the name of religion but everyone knows he does it because he wants to. Hoarding scars and wounds and stitches like Kakuzu hoards money. His most prominent scars are from all the times his partner has sewn him back together leaving large, ugly stitches just because he can.

Kakuzu: also covered in scars. This man has 12 hearts and he’s still a Scrooge. He still has the marks of each self conducted surgery because he’ll never spend anything on medicine to help them heal better. Theres something horrible about his scars. All of them violent and ugly and raw with suture marks from surgeries he performed himself that look barely scabbed over even though it’s been years.

Itachi: the lines on his face are scars left by the tears he never shed. Or that's what Kisame says anyway. He's always favored Genjtusu over contact fighting so he hardly has any scars. He has a 10 cm scar on his forearm though from when he was training for the ANBU test. It happened in a moment of distraction when a 6 year old Sasuke walked right into a trap he had set for training. He ended up needing stitches for it. It healed quickly but the scar is still very visible.

Kisame: His skin is tough, basically knife proof so he has other scars. Burn patches from a mission that ended in flames, a chunk missing from his thigh from when he fought a Shinobi with wind-type jutsu. Sand burns on his shoulders from a mission in Suna. There's a huge scar on his side that only Itachi has seen. It looks like something sunk it's teeth into him and spans from his ribcage to his hip. Where it's from is the only thing he won't tell his partner.

Sasori: he’s a puppet now but when he wasn’t, when he was still human his fingers were littered with callouses and cuts, splinter scars from carving and carving and carving puppet after puppet, searching for connection through string when all else was severed.

Deidara: he’s covered in burn scars from failed bombs and singed with phosphorus that exploded too early. There's a scar on the side of his face from a bomb gone wrong that took of his eyebrow when it happened. It's healed now but there's still discoloration. Half of his fingerprints have been melted off by acid and his fingernails are always bitten too short from his anxious habit.

Konan: She looks scarless but her fingertips are covered in hundreds of tiny paper cuts from folding thousands of origami shapes wishing for the war to end. Writing countless of wishes for her family and friends before she learned to use paper as her weapon. Her scars are mostly inside. In the way she keeps cautious distance from everything and silently observes all that happens around her. It’s in the intensity in her eyes masked by a cool expressionless facade.

Nagato: His body is broken, everyone knows that. But his scars, like Konan's are on the inside. Ultimately Akatsuki is his scar.

Yahiko: He has scars from the war, permanent cuts on his knees and hands from clambering over rubble in search of food. The worst scar is the stab wound that ultimately killed him. It never healed.

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 16: Laplace's Angel

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: Hurt people hurt people.

Author's Note: The song for this chapter is Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) by Will Wood.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Have you ever died in a nightmare?

Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate?

Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis

And collapsed and threw the planet away?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kakuzu flips through another page. It isn’t the same book as before, not his catalog of horrible villains and great heroes alike (there is, of course, no difference once your body hits the ground), but rather an innocuous one pulled from the small library in this home they’ve invaded. A long time here with no daily escape as before necessitates a way to pass the time, and a good read or two or ten will do. How long has it been since it was occupied? How long since these texts have been touched? The traveler wonders this, idle hands behind her back, as she watches Kakuzu read.

…

…

Neither say a thing, though for different reasons. The performer walked in, had something to say, and is now distracted with the mere sight of him. Ditsy, as always, huh? Kakuzu curses with the shape of his lips alone behind his mask, no voice for her to hear and take it the wrong way. His stare is locked onto the yellowed pages, and they are brittle in his fingers. He is not going to talk to her, at least not if he has to start it.

In the corner of his reddish eye, the hunter sees her pick a book off the shelf, back facing him and one foot sticking up in the air behind her. It’s as if she was acting as someone getting a book instead of simply...someone getting a book. Her selection is made with a sing-song humming tune he doesn’t recognize and she plops down next to him on the long couch, not quite touching but still too close. Frankly, even if she had sat as far as possible, it’d still be too close. Kakuzu moves his eyes alone to watch as she places the book upon her lap, opens the cover to the back instead of the front (just as she did the first time) and pretends to do the same as he.

…

…

Kakuzu has the revelation that he can’t just ignore her, can he? Fuck. Though he doesn’t mean to squint, the expression is made anyways as a result of scrutinizing the woman so hard for this strange behavior.

“What,” he mumbles in the back of his throat. His voice is unpracticed and staggered, as if he hasn’t used it in conversation for a long while. “Are you doing.”

“Sorry,” she begins, because of course she begins with that. “I just figured...you know, how kids just learn how to read by beginning to try? Maybe it could work for me.” Perhaps the nervous element of her wide smile is invisible to him. He answers simply:

“You aren’t a child.”

And though the corners of her mouth stay up as she looks over her shoulder to him, they no longer reach their cheeks.

“No…” she admits, clinging to hope, “...But…”

A horridly awkward silence, and her instincts for keeping damn dreams and ideas to herself receive painful reinforcement. She waits just a second, for the sake of perhaps not appearing too hurt, before setting the book down on the end table so soon after being picked from the case for the first time in years. Kakuzu doesn’t get a glimpse of her face as she walks out the same way she came, but she can see her shoulders slump down, tighten closer to her sides. A double edge sword of relief hits its blow to the man’s chest. She isn’t here. He doesn’t have to worry about her being around in this moment anymore, about the tension he feels after everything.

But now...she isn’t here. He’s pushed her away.

Dammit. In his mind, he curses her for not making this easy, but deep down he knows he’s the one that should be reprimanded. His own book closes and he massages the bridge of his nose. What a damn headache…

What was Pain thinking, sending him back?

And what a painful existence old books have, interest in them merely a flight of whimsy, ending as soon as they have no purpose.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ooh, could you take a look at me?

(It’s the norm for animals, it’s the norm for chemicals)

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

(It’s the norm for particles, eye for eye for tooth)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What’s it like?!”

“Tobi—”

“Huh, Takara-chan??? What’s it like to be from space!”

“Tobi!”

Though the distraction for her prior social faux pas is much appreciated, the traveler folds her arms as patience wanes. She’s not literally from the stars...right? She didn’t fall from the sky. Not as far as she’s been aware.

“I’m not from space, I- I don’t mean to lie to you, so listen!,” she requests, “There’s just people who have gone there!”

“What did they tell you about it?” The insatiable mask cocks his head. He’s like a toddler, always asking “why” not for the answer but to see how far he can go.

“Tobi, I-...I don’t know them!”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t!”

“That’s like saying everyone personally knows a Kage, Tobi.” Kisame smirks; he looks simultaneously weary and relaxed, perching his inner elbow on a bent knee as he sits on the front porch steps alongside the two, who are leaning against the railing. “Give her a break.”

She blinks. “A..Kage?” she repeats, slowly. Someone in the background rolls his eyes but is ignored.

“Ah...that’s right. You must have different government structures than us. A Kage is...literally speaking, the ‘shadow’ of a nation. Depending on which one, they may be closer to a king than a democratic leader. Some nations choose based on merit, some based on silver spoons in a newborn’s mouth.”

The woman hums, rolling the word of her tongue again. It’s familiar…:

“The Kage is an idiot, isn’t he?! All that power means nothing with no respect. What’s a land without a leader?”

Oh yeah...back from that first day with Hidan. You know. The one where she killed a man. Goddammit Jesus Christ, she had nearly forgotten about it, but she just can’t get away, can she? She exhales, long and loud and tired, reason seemingly inexplicable to anyone but her.

“What, you getting bored?”

“Mm?” The woman looks up to the voice over her shoulder. “Oh, hi Hidan.” She opts not to explain herself, creating a fair gap of time where the reaper walks from the door, down the stairs without giving the swordsman on them a glance, and turns to face her while he stands on the ground. “What’s up?”

“I asked ya a question.” He rolls his neck upon his shoulders as if he’s stiff with idleness himself. “Are ya getting bored?”

Blink blink. Is it an insult to say she is? The woman looks to her fellow performer, the other jester in the group who wears orange and black to clash with her blue and white. Seems like he has the same idea in mind, not talking to her but mirroring the movement she makes to look again at Hidan.

“I…” she stutters. But Hidan simply raises an index finger:

“Remember how I used to make your day by bringing you snacks and shit so you didn’t just eat Kakuzu’s shitty garbage?”

“……” She narrows her eyes. It wasn’t Kakuzu’s food, it was food he gave her money to buy. She’s also pretty sure loaves of bread don’t count as a snack. That’s more of a staple food. “...Yes?” she has no choice but to say.

“Then boy is it YOUR fuckin’ lucky day!” A thumb is used to thrust into his own chest with this uproarious promise. The shape of his mouth and the intensity in his eyes is somewhere between excited and manic. “This guy is gonna take ya out to dinner! That should make up for lost time, yeah?”

Kisame can’t believe his ears. What is it with the zombies and being uncharacteristically generous when Takara is around? She seems receptive, too, her face lighting up.

“Oh hell yeah! I’d love to!” And then those bright eyes turn to the shark. “I’d love to take everyone out to eat!” That is not what Hidan offered, but he can’t interrupt fast enough. “We can get seafood!”

“Seafood?!” A sound to feign puking comes off of a tongue he sticks out in disgust. “I was thinking steak. We aren’t fish.”

Kisame grunts under his breath. That’s right. Hidan is looking right at him, clearly with something to prove.

“Oh. Sorry...” The mousy girl shrinks into her lean onto the banister. “I just promised Kisame we’d...have seafood the next time I went to town...” Oh how heartbreakingly quick the woman deflates; she lowers her head and purses her lip, getting so hushed she’s almost not heard at all. “We were talking about how we loved it…”

Kisame gives Hidan a look. Hidan simply...looks.

He looks.

...Like he’s being asked to eat dogshit.

“I don’t mind waiting on that type of cuisine till a better time,” the swordsman offers, to save the day, voice smooth and eyes locked on magenta ones. “I’ll still tag along. Steak is fine.”

“Aw, Kisame…!” Hidan squints at the way she coos at the blue guy, how she hugs his arm in appreciation...admiration? Adoration?! The reaper’s lip thins until it starts to hurt.

…I see what game yer playin’, asshole, Hidan says only with his sharp stare.

You’re insane if you think she’s going to be alone with you for so long, Kisame returns.

It’s so nice that they’re actually getting along… the performer dreams with her eyes closed to their bickering.

And here Tobi thinks: this is going to be such a fun shitshow, isn’t it?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And now we're singing

Ooh, whatever you think of me

(It’s the norm for chemicals, it’s the norm for particles)

If you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do

(Yes, it’s only natural)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Their wrists swing back and forth as they reach the depths of the forest trail, a smile on her face as she arrives with two of her closest friends (and one guy who is just there to see it all go down). Hidan’s head, oh so slowly, peaks past the girth of Kisame’s cloak to frown at his disciple’s hand holding the shark’s. There’s no way that’d be fine by Jashin.

“…” Purple eyes slide up, deadpan and hooded at the woman, waiting as if she’ll realize her folly herself, but she does not. He needs to ask the obvious:

“Takara...why the hell are you holding his hand?”

And though she blushes and rubs the back of her head with the free palm, she laughs and her grasp does not stop. Even worse, Kisame does not make her stop. “To not get lost,” she explains, and before she can excuse it herself, Hidan interrupts with his admonishment:

“What?! What are you, fucking five?”

It always stings more sharply when someone else says what you’re thinking. So ashamed, she lets go.

...But Kisame catches her mistake, putting his grasp back into place.

“I rather prefer I not get lost.” He beams down at her; yes, she has a comrade in him. This is okay, be as silly as you like. Kisame earns her smile yet again. Hidan grumbles.

Over the next couple steps, he makes his way over to the woman’s free side and wordlessly threads her other set of fingers in his own. The two men glare sparks over the top of her head. As he’s distracted, Hidan’s other hand is held.

He nearly swings Tobi off the face of the planet.

“TOBI! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Wao-oh-wao-oh!” he bounces with each attempted fling, sticking like flypaper to his arm. Awkwardly, the traveler giggles.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We’re only tuning to the tone of the bell curve now

Ask not for whom it tolls

But with my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground

And from up here you look like ants in a row

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hidan catches a couple of people looking at his back, tugging each other’s sleeves and whispering nonsense about being Akatsuki. His lip curls down, his annoyance practicing in his throat before throwing over his shoulder.

“If you guys have a problem, you can stop being cowards about it! Eh?” The villagers are allowed to leave without consequence as Hidan gets distracted, the woman tugging on his own cloak sleeve. She’s frowning at him, like she’s worried. He doesn’t get it. “...What?” Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t come up with a soft enough explanation for him in fast enough time. “What!”

He’s just sort of...a lot. There’s not really a quick and easy way to say that to someone kindly, she realizes. “...Never mind.” Her mission was accomplished all the same, and there’s no more conflict. At least, not any she’s aware of yet.

“Takara-chan!” A gloved hand grips a surprised lady’s shoulder, pointing over to a shop with a green awning. “We should go here! I found something you’ll LOVE!”

“I—” An unwillingness to leave a distinctly sensitive Hidan alone cannot beat out Tobi’s forceful guiding, and she is taken by the arm and swept away, leaving the two red-clouded men alone together on the street, ordinary life surrounding those who are anything but. Fish eyes glance over, above teeth that grin less in joy and more like a predator bares fangs.

“It’s you they’re looking at, you know,” Kisame coolly accuses.

“What?” Hidan responds in disbelief, tilting his head to the side to make his sideglance harsher. “Watch yourself. You’re the damn walkin’ talkin’ shark, you freak.”

Words like this mean nothing to the swordsman. “Not like this they were, last I was here. It’s definitely you.”

More frowns and concerned mumbles fill Hidan’s backdrop as citizens stop what they’re doing to note his presence; he looks so different in daylight. He can’t help but turn his head around trying to take it all in. Kisame offers no forgiveness as he becomes the focus of the reaper’s gaze once more. Sharks, after all, do love toying with prey.

“From what I was told, you only have come here at night, only to brood next to her menacingly.”

Hidan’s fist is clenched so hard it begins to shake—

“Hidan-senpai!”

The crowd gasps and children’s eyes are covered as the named man punches Tobi square in the stomach the instant his shoulder is tapped. The injured part of his body is quickly held, head bobbing side to side to convey wooziness where a face cannot.

“How many times do I have to tell you! Don’t FUCKING touch me!”

“Oh, zombie?” Kisame asks.

“WHAT!”

Undeniable now, everyone’s staring right at the silver demon. Hidan has never, once, in his adult life cared what other people thought…

In the distance, he glimpses her. The figure in white so serene, so content, in slow motion loses her delight as she turns to see what he has been doing.

...He has never cared what other people thought until now.

The social outcast pushes out of the crowd straight to her, needing to forget anything has ever happened. “Heyyy,” he slides in, ignoring the stares that continue to press onto him as he joins her in the shadow of the street shop. Each word is structured, and therefore they arrive stilted. “What’s...happening? What. Are ya. … … Heyyyy.”

…

She frowns at him with worry, answering his sorta question with a mindful gaze. “I was looking at these little guys.” His too-tense stare follows her point. All in a row there are several miniature animals upon this table, none longer than your pinky, made of clay and the finest love as they stare up with marble eyes. At least, that’s what the shopkeeper tells her.

A brow raises. “What? These things?” Hidan glances down at them again from the bridge of his nose, evaluating each like he’s missing something. “...Toys?”

“Figurines!” an all-too eager craftsman chimes in from behind the counter. The tone alone is enough to make Hidan lose all interest.

“Takara,” he asks, holding his forehead, “Can we forget the window shopping and get some fucking food?”

“Who said anything about window shopping?”

An indigo fin of hair ducks under the green awning to join them, a bloodthirsty grin on the swordsman's face. Hidan hardly manages a mumble before Kisame swoops in once again:

“Oh, fuck you—”

“Takara-hime," he interrupts, "Why don’t you pick your favorite? I’m sure you’ll give it a lovely home.”

Behind her back, a man that looks closer to a wizard than a real human being nods over and over in great, nearly frantic approval, though the traveler herself hums long and in the negative. “Oh, Kisame...I don’t really need anything like this…”

“Why yes, yes you do—!”

“Can you shut UP, old man!” Hidan spits.

“How rude,” Kisame notes, much like how one would when a dog not your own misbehaves. With pupils so small, it’s impossible to tell quick if he’s looking at her or today’s rival. “I don’t think it hurts to pick just one.”

The stars in her eyes grow bigger, and the reaper realizes this is a threat. Just as her mouth opens, Hidan beats her to it, brushing by and pressing every bill into his pocket onto the table in one smooth, instant motion, gifting the shopkeep with the best day of his goddamn life.

“All of them.”

Everyone has a moment of silence before clarity kicks in. The prize talks first:

“...Hidan, I don’t—”

“All. Of them,” he repeats. Purple locks directly onto small dots on a gilled face. Between them, folded hands pressed to the front of her mouth, the woman now can feel the electricity between them using her as the conduit. A few more seconds pass. She glances to the side. ...Wait.

“...Where did that shopkeeper go?”

Poignantly, the space where the seller was is empty, as is where Hidan’s entire month-long allowance was. All of the figurines remain, his new wealth. The traveler gets the strong feeling they just bought cursed artifacts and that she can hear cackling laughter in the wind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It doesn’t take a killer to murder

It only takes a reason to kill

We’ve all got evidence of innocence, it’s "everything’s coincidence"

The difference twixt fate and free will

Is whether you’re singing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Soooo?” Tobi opens, resting his cheek against his palm as the others seat themselves alongside his table. His plate is already empty, nothing but crumbs. Did they really take that long, she wonders…? He continues: “Did Takara-chan get the kitty statue?”

A thud sounds beside her chair, a sack cloth with the weight of a whole baby hitting the floor. “Yup. You could say that.” She doesn’t sound very happy about it, Hidan notes, mentally blaming anyone but himself for this. And this was all good fun, but Kisame has none more in him for this nonsense anymore, so instead of arguing, he brings up the menu to his face and reads.

Hidan watches intently as she leans over to look at the fish’s list instead of her own.

“What are you getting?” she whispers, to which Kisame shrugs.

“Haven’t decided yet.” A finger points at something Hidan can’t see, to which the woman hums. “I bet you’d like this. Yakisoba.”

“Oh! That sounds nice.”

“Why.” Hidan puts his fingertips over his eyelids and pulls them down, as if it’ll make him see things clearly again. She is not a goddamn helpless kid. “Are you letting him pick for you.”

“I just...haven’t really been to a place like this?” A nervous smile covers up the truth about her literacy— at least she hopes. This isn’t really the ideal time to inform Hidan about it.

“Then just find something that damn sounds good and go for it!”

“Oh. Well...—”

Right on cue, the waiter is there, looking down at her. Oh, the social pressures of a restaurant; she’s never done well with them, ordered many a meal she did not really want. With one word on her brain, she chooses it. “The...yakisoba. Please?”

When it arrives, Hidan scarfs his own food down as fast as he can and walks outside.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So if you wash your hands of where you’ve been until you flood the second floor

Neatly fold your skeletons but still can’t shut the closet door

The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough

So evil ones should get a little more

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What’s your fucking problem!”

“My problem? You’re the one poising about like you can’t have eyes off of you for more than two seconds.”

“You’re the one that keeps butting in!”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, really! You invited yourself to OUR fuckin’ dinner.”

The accusations are thrown back and forth over her as they are nearly done walking back home. For a while, her gaze follows like it’s a tennis match, but eventually the bouncing gets too sore on her eyeballs and she chooses to look at Tobi. This situation is exactly what she was worried about.

...Minus the large bag of figurine animals she did not ask for.

The clowns share a gaze for a moment, her emotions on full display while his are gloriously hidden. The male one sighs to himself. Oh, perhaps he can do her one favor. He thinks she could play along to well enough to let one slip in reality slide. A hand grips her shoulder while the other brings a finger to where his lips should be. The woman catches on, following his suit of stopping and remaining silent, so the others meander on ahead with their arguing.

“Close your eyes and I’ll take us through a shortcut.”

Okay.

Sure.

Why not.

She’s too tired to argue this.

Some minutes later, the two cloaked men have walked all the way back to the front porch without noticing they are no longer being followed, nor that the bag of her gifts is resting upon a chair.

“See, the difference between you and me— it’s that I was there BEFORE anyone was ordered to do shit. Stop pretending like you care. You fucking don’t!”

“And you let her live in filth?”

“I was fucking busy and she never complained and it was NOT that bad!”

“Your perception of reality is in the gutter.”

"Don't treat her like a baby, she's a grown woman and can make her own damn choices! Even saw her kill a guy with her own two hands!" And a world class triple bladed scythe, but Kisame wouldn't believe regardless.

"Now you're just being ridiculous. Are these the kind of lies you tell yourself?"

"Better than thinkin' she's some kind of space princess. The hell you call her that for, anyways? Princess!"

Oh, they’re still going at it. The performer laments this fact as she wanders out the door to the spot where this all started, her leaning against the railing outside of her home. A shortcut only silences the voices temporarily. She begins to see the only solution is oh so painfully in her hands:

“Can you guys stop?”

Acknowledge her, they do. Pause their statements, yes. But stop? Hell no.

“Takara, isn’t this just fucking WEIRD?” ...Oh god.

“Weird? I say that’s how you behave. There’s a reason you weren’t allowed alone with her.” Oh god. She has just made this all even worse.

“The hell do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, cretin. The only reason you were sent on a mission was so she could be safe. Don’t you remember how we were proven right?”

She wants to crawl out of her own skin.

“OI! That was NOT me!”

“But did you stop it?”

“I—”

“Kisame!” the woman shouts from her raised position to the fighting men, much like a damsel does from her tower. She already explained this to him, that it was an accident. Why is he—?

The sound of her distress only pushes him onward. He has honor to protect. He tastes blood in the water. It twists his expression into something terrible, something Hidan is quickly starting to match with absolute abandon.

Talking is over. Milliseconds split whether Kisame draws his sword first or Hidan his scythe. The woman screams, and they don’t listen, so she has no choice but to throw herself forward until they do.

Both men tangibly feel the weight of their smiling lips drop as soon as she comes between them once again.

Shing-clink, THUMP.

Two stories over their heads fly a sword of scales and a scythe of blood, in a near instant hitting the earth. Both cling into the dirt like their ends were cut off and the flat edges glued where they landed, just absolutely, firmly in place, even as thick as Samehada is. Both animals have their jaws dropped and eyes wide, but not for the hunt. The sight that splits them is their bounty, a woman uninjured yet still twitching and flinching.

Looping around her over and over— around her waist, her raised arms, her heaving chest— are black, metallic threads. Kakuzu has never said her name like this, not since he gave it to her.

“TAKARA!”

It’s a mere split second she’s kept on the battlefield, immediately whipped backwards to stand beside him at the front door. She’s horrified as she looks upon him in this new, battle ready state, still on the brink of losing everything thanks to adrenaline and misunderstandings between her friends, and the bounty hunter decides it is the best time to teach her of her place.

“What are you thinking?” His volume is so much lower, and yet she’s even more intimidated. This is a goddamn nightmare. Her saviors nearly killed one another, and now here she is captured by something she can only describe as eldritch coming forth from another who she has come to trust. The threads wiggle around him; they're so dark and tinged with a glimmer that it's almost look like you took a pencil and scribbled onto the air itself. They writhe from his sleeves like worms. Gemstones bore into her.

And boy do they see every inch of her foolishness.

“You. Were mere inches from death.” His eyes will hurt later from glaring so hard, going without blinking so long. “Do you know a damn thing, girl? Do you know how so, very close you are to dying every moment you are alive in our presence? Do you KNOW?”

The threads don’t let go, but as he looms over her so much his shadow consumes all of her body, it’s one of the last things on her mind. The stitched doll is relentless. He had warned her. And he had given her proof to be afraid. It needs to be drilled into her empty skull. His voice raises:

“Can you not even THINK?!”

“KAKUZU!”

Though Kisame’s mouth had opened, it’s not his voice that speaks. Beside him, the swordsman sees Hidan seethe. His body is leaning forward, both fists clenched to his sides. Slowly, the same way a prisoner may drag their chains, green irises fall onto the silver haired man. There’s an expression about him, the way the muscles in his face twitch with effort to hold their position; it is more than just outrage…a bit of the same thing as the night of the meeting where it started to go wrong. And then into his ear, a little sound is made, as soft and small as a squeak from a mouse. The chains drag back, eyes finally seeing her again instead of just through her.

Helpless in his grasp, like a fly twirled into spiderweb, the performer can do nothing with her body but cry. She tries not to— because he is right— but no amount of biting your bottom lip and sniffing up the tears can keep the emotion away. In fact, it only makes it uglier. Hidan says his name again, more distant to Kakuzu’s spiraling mind, and the woman feels the bindings retract, piano wire slithering away like snakes. Kakuzu steps away, gawking at what he caused, the way she holds herself exactly in place as he had demanded of her. But others are here now, judging, and so panic sets in.

He can’t even manage an apology this time as he must walk away before it gets worse.

A third time Hidan says his partner’s name, and he runs right by her to chase him, to demand answers wherever the stitched man is going to hide. Kisame is the only one left now, a frown on his face. She looks so small on the stoop, frozen with sudden terrors and harsh words. Gently, he walks the gap, approaching her in such a way he may not frighten her any further than she already is. He manages to kneel in front of her, he on a lower step on the porch than she, and a ringed hand reaches out to touch—

“Kisame.”

The hand flinches back. The one who uses his cloak like a sling is in the doorway, staring him down. As the woman throws her freed palms over her face to hide fear and shame, Kisame can only wait to be given permission. He waits, so painfully he holds his breath and waits. He waits as Itachi walks to where they are. As he takes one hand off her face to hold. As she looks to him so very, very shakily for something to stabilize her after all this.

Permission will not be given this evening, and the Uchiha alone escorts the stranger to where she may calm down in peace. That bites more than any blade could cut Hoshigaki Kisame to the bone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You, could you take a look at me?

(You could break an angel’s fall, and ignore the Devil’s call)

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

(Still forsaken shoulders fall silent now)

Now we're singing

Ooh, whatever you think of me

(It’s no more than cultural, you and me inseparable.)

If the shoe fits would you walk that mile? You could put it on the other foot, it’s the same size

(It’s a small hell after all.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An owl of the night is a poor singer of lullabies, its voice too low and its rhythm too disjointed, the woman convinces herself. No, certainly not the fact this isn't her own bed, not that she is in Itachi’s chosen room, the man himself seated in the corner. She glances from the window to the guardian whom moonlight swathes so generously, like if he could be drowned in the stars, perhaps the night may be able to drink him in. His eyes are closed. The stranger in a strange bed has her suspicions. Worried she had accidentally started a fight, an aching heart doesn't help her wondering if she's causing more problems.

“Itachi?” Hardly a whisper, hardly heard by her own self, and yet one lid cracks open. His eye is as dark as dark can be. Hands folded over the blanket and head propped up on pillows, the woman looks to him with worry. “We can switch if you’re having trouble sleeping.”

…

He considers not her offer but the words themselves. He will not be sleeping tonight. He hardly ever does. In the end, he opts to close his eye again instead of speak. Perhaps she will not press, and she may simply drift into her dreams.

The Uchiha should know better than that.

“Itachi?”

Eyelid flutters again to see her sitting on the edge of the mattress to face him. She’s the type that if someone else is upset, so is she. Please speak your troubles, dear, her aura calls to him. My burdens are not freed until I may carry yours.

What a predicament, since that is his job.

“...You should try to sleep, Miss Takara.” No matter how softly he speaks, she can only shake her head to that.

“I don’t want to be alone…” she restates, just as before when this predicament was arranged. “...But I don’t want to keep you from sleep, too. I’m okay,” she promises, seriousness weighing her head into a downward tilt. “I’m okay if I can’t sleep. I just don’t want to be alone.”

To have emptiness in a room would allow her imagination a stage for what it’d look like if someone really did get hurt today. The vacancy primes her mind for a shadow puppet show of corpses and blood spray upon the blank walls, the turbulence of the day’s events a tornado tearing it all apart.

What a dilemma the crow is tangled in. To reveal the truth of his insomnia is to put more upon a load he means to lighten…and yet here she is, unceasing all the same. Seconds pass. Time is allowed to bring forth the solution she wants to hear:

“...We can stay up together.”

And with the warmth that weary smile beams upon him, Itachi suddenly wouldn’t want anything more. But he has his mission, his sworn duty to her. He must refuse.

“...Another night, Miss Takara.”

The smile offered lightens but does not entirely fade, just as the moon does not disappear when merely a crescent in the sky. The man closes his eye again.

...And he hears her shuffle forward and sit down on the floor, right next to his chair, where she will remain until her body demands she finally fall sleep, whether she'd like to or not.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You, could you take a look at me?

(Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals)

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

(Any form mechanical, thank you God)

Ooh, whatever you think of me

(From the hordes of cannibals, to psych wards of hospitals)

If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you

(It’s a small world after all)

Oh oh right

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[ladykissingfish]

Idk really really disjointed thoughts but I was thinking about this on the bus in-between the stale cigarette smell and the man ranting about port-a-potties.

so what if Sasori and Deidara go on a mission and of course Sasori is all careful planning and strategizing but Deidara is Deidara, everything is boom bang flash.

and normally things somehow work out for them but not this time. this time, deidara gets horribly injured. bleeding out and nearer to death than he’s ever been.

it’s only by a miracle that Sasori gets them safely out of there and back to the hideout. and he takes him to Kakuzu to be treated because Sasori can’t treat him, he literally can’t. he can’t look at Dei, he can’t be in the same room as him.

and the others assume that it’s because Sasori is furious at Dei, not only for ruining the mission and endangering them, but in the process of saving Deidara, Sasori has to sacrifice some of his more important puppets.

but that’s not it at all.

Sasori could care less about those damn puppets.

but Deidara …

he had never seen Deidara that badly hurt before. and he can’t shake the feeling that it was his fault, because if he had stopped Deidara, if he had yelled or attempted to curb his recklessness even once, none of this would have happened.

eventually, very late at night, Kakuzu comes to him. and he says that Deidara is alive, he’s conscious again, and he’s asking for Sasori. at first Sasori brushes it off and says he’ll see him in the morning but Kakuzu says the kid won’t relax until he sees you.

so Sasori goes, and Kakuzu gives them privacy.

and Deidara is near tears. he’s speaking softly, he’s apologizing for what happened. he says he talked it over with Kakuzu to give half of his pay to Sasori for the next few months, until he can replace the puppets that Sasori lost. and he’s rambling on and on until finally Sasori holds up his hand, temporarily halting Deidara’s words.

and he stands there staring at Deidara in bed, more bandages than flesh, bruises everywhere.

“If you ever presume to make me worry like this again, you’ll no longer have to fear the enemy taking you out; I’ll end your life myself. Am I understood?”

and Deidara looks at him, thinking that surely he heard wrong. “worry”? Sasori didn’t worry about anything; Deidara doubted that word was even in his vocabulary. and even if it was, and he HAD said that —

“Why would you be worried about me? I mean, if I died —“

“I don’t want you to die!!”, Sasori snaps at him, his normally expressionless face a sea of emotions. “I - I —“, and here he pauses, because he can’t see the next words coming from his lips, but he forces himself: “I LOVE YOU, Deidara!”

and Deidara isn’t sure whether it’s the events of the day finally breaking him down, or his exhaustion, or some side effect of the heavy painkillers Kakuzu has him on, but … he starts to cry.

freely, uninhibited, without even bothering to lift his hands to his eyes, he starts bawling.

and Sasori is alarmed, to put it mildly. is Deidara in a great amount of pain? did … did Sasori’s words upset him that much? was —

“I … I love you too, you stupid idiot!” Deidara manages to get out through his tears, and Sasori is floored. no, for real, he has to sit down on the floor to process the confusing emotions going through his body.

Deidara can barely move but he manages to lean up and look over the side of the bed at the redheaded puppet muttering to himself on the floor.

“Hey! That was my first confession, hm! I know you’re an old man but I’m young, and this is a big deal for me! So get up and hug me or something!”

Sasori smiles and shakes his head; how in the world is he going to handle this annoying brat now?

well, no matter.

it’s a challenge, and there’s nothing that stimulates Sasori more than a good challenge.

he gets up, approaches Deidara, leans down and hugs him. awkwardly (he hasn’t hugged anybody in over twenty years) but gently. Deidara’s hair presses against Sasori’s cheek and nothing in the universe could possibly feel softer.

“Do I get a kiss, too?”

he says it playfully, a teasing lilt in his voice, clearly not at all expecting Sasori to act, but 

Sasori cups Deidara’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, moves his lips to the target and gives the blonde what he asked for.

“How was that? Good?”

Deidara nods, and his face is doing its best impression of Sasori’s hair shade.

“Ah, so THAT was all it took to shut you up? I wish I had known this sooner; I could have spared myself many a metaphorical headache.”

or something like that.

Next thought:

so Sasori is dating Deidara and he thinks it’s going good but he starts to worry about their lack of a sex life. he knows that Hidan and Kakuzu are “dating” and he definitely knows they have sex because Kakuzu’s room is next to Sasori’s and Hidan makes no effort to be quiet. and although they’re infinitely more discreet he knows that Itachi and Kisame are experiencing that, too.

but Sasori’s puppet body isn’t exactly equipped with the tool(s) for love-making. and he’s worried. Deidara has never brought it up to him but he knows he’s “friends” with Itachi and Hidan and the three talk all the time and he thinks what if he hears the others talk about it and feels cheated because we’re not having it? after all Deidara is a young, vibrant, healthy 19 year old male and he probably wants it, right?

so Sasori works day and night creating a “human No jutsu” for himself, one that he’ll be able to maintain for a few hours at a time, hopefully long enough to give Deidara a good time.

so he calls Deidara into his room and transforms for him. but. unexpected side effect of being fully human again: emotions. everything that he’s repressed/gotten rid of over the years immediately comes to the forefront of Sasori’s mind and. 

he starts crying.

and Deidara is more shocked than anything. it’s surreal enough to see Sasori as flesh and blood, but to see him cry? insanity.

so Deidara sits down with him and holds him, comforting him and soothing him. and eventually Sasori calms down enough to tell Deidara why he chose to inhabit this form.

and Deidara is flattered beyond belief.

but.

Deidara has no interest in sex.

he never did.

he explains that he likes when he and Sasori hug and kiss, and hold each other, but sex is not something he’s ever even considered. he says Sasori stimulates him mentally and emotionally, and for him, that’s more than enough.

and Sasori cries more.

the big crybaby spends the whole two hours of his human No jutsu just sitting on the floor bawling his eyes out.

but it’s happy tears.

or something like that.

I don’t know, I guess this is what’s living in my head today 🤷🏽‍♀️

[sharkfinx]

<  @uchihacollector | cont’d >  stages of a break up

What a wonderful night! When the sunrays kiss his blue skin from the gaps of the curtain, Kisame lazily turns on the bed. Yawning, a stretch that moved the sheets from the bed. The morning's cold, the softness of the bed that calls for just another 5 minutes of sleep that almost makes him feel guilty for some reason. What’s wrong with a bit of comfort? He wishes for a little more as he nuzzles the pillow and finally opens his eyes.

He doesn’t pay attention to his surroundings as he gets up and brushes his teeth. His partner always had many secondary tasks whenever they stopped by any village. Just like Kakuzu with his bounties and Sasori with his art, as long as it didn't interfere with their main goal it was harmless. By the end of the day that same annoying dubious smile would show up as if nothing happened, rambling compliments to appease to his good side. Shrimp flavored rice crackers matched with bats of eyelashes are the key to him not get questioned.

"Writing is too bothersome as I thought… Something simpler shall do, Nee." 

His mind was too entertained with that simple date to give a second look on what happened in that place. He has always been a simple minded person, or just innocently excited with planning a simple celebration. 

“One whole year...” He whispers to himself as someone that tried to make a script.

Something simple. I nee something simple.

Kisame is back at their room, a tray filled with food (mostly from the complimentary breakfast.) is by his side on the bed as he sat there with crossed legs. There's three slices of bread, homemade mayonnaise, three boiled eggs and an Omurice.The shinobi picks one of the boiled eggs, peeling the shell; His own fault for doing it once, forgetting Orochimaru's tendencies of being spoiled and now having to do it every single time. Unless he wanted an annoyed gaze for the rest of the day as if had insulted him deeply.

That makes him chuckle as he takes another egg in his hands.

"Kekekekeke. He's such a weird person, my partner, neee. ~ " A joyful smile fills his face in a manner he only remembers from the past. Peeling scales of fishes that his mother caught during a long day of summer. At the last egg, the shining of the ring finally cut the denseness of Kisame's mind. A note? That should explain where he went this time.

"............" 

The glittering curtain that covered his days for the past one year finally drops.

5:00 pm

It 's evening now.

Denial. 

How long has he been staring at the same spot on the wall? Hand still holding on the same note as his face had stuck in the same expressionless gaze as the moment he got tired from rereading it over and over. He's drowned by feelings he doesn't understand and cannot comprehend. Stuck, frozen in place. He wants to puke his own guts; something hurts inside. He is unaware what. For a moment he wondered if he was poisoned or in a genjutsu. 

He finally moves, eyes staring at the breakfast tray. It especially stares at the Omurice which has a simple snake and shark drawn on it with ketchup. 

"What a bummer." His throat is dry as he forces a grin. 

He slowly lays down on the bed, his eyes are tired like his body for some reason. 

Maybe he was really poisoned.

Anger.

The next day his work truly starts; checking every bit of that room for a single clue. His missing note, the scratches on the floor, the clothes missing from his bag.

How could he not see it? It's almost like a yellow scroll in the middle of a green jungle.

Impossible to miss. 

What's wrong with a little comfort? That's his answer right there. He has to pay for the fine for staying longer than he’s supposed to be. 

Bargaining.

A week from that day is where he stands alone in their meeting, he's the only one by himself as the other pairs explained their gains from their last missions. Curious eyes waited for Kisame's turn like vultures. 

" He deserted. Orochimaru fled while I was asleep." There's silence, rude jokes that he doesn't listen well. There's demands and questioning that he also takes a while to process. What more he can explain? He  He got comfortable. It’s his fault.

" It was my fault, but If you wish for I—" Orochimaru wasn't a priority in their plans. Hunting him would only delay their next move, especially someone as Kisame. He can't really say anything about it, can he? 

He loves the comfort of following orders. The way he doesn't need to think or plan his own desires and seek them. 

Doesn't he? He agrees with Pain and quietly accepts his next mission.

Depression.

He's doing little jobs now as others get bigger missions for the time being. 

Eating is bothersome—he doesn't really need to eat everyday. That was a habit developed to be more human. He can go well for weeks with only one big meal. 

He catches himself cutting around the tenderloins again. Suddenly his appetite stops and he leaves the rest of the deer to the animals in the forest.

Kisame just keeps completing missions non stop—sleeping only when his body collapses, usually in a body of water where he stays at the floor until he regains consciousness again. Samehada complains daily in little grumbles of the quality of Kisame's chakra. It's too much but without any taste–But Kisame can't do much about it. He can't get bigger missions without a partner, and being paired with another pair made him want to pull his guts away. 

He tries to reassure Samehada, changing its bandages as an apology.

Acceptance.

"......There's no missions...right now." Zetsu exclaims, having to repeat it a second time. 

That's the first smile Kisame has in a month, with Samehada on his shoulder. " Then I shall spread my wings a little, could you warn the others?" 

As Zetsu nods and disappears, Kisame looks at the horizon. Bearing his fangs as he used to before.

It's time for the hunt to start.

That past year he learned a lot too. Kisame's dislike for long plans and alike wasn't a lack of intelligence but rather because it was boring. Talking, negotiating, bargaining; all of them were qualities the sannin had. He was always beside him, listening and watching. Subconsciously learning too.

He can't solely count with his own hunting skills—maybe if he started three days after he vanished or had any clues perhaps. From zero it would be a little harder.

He shows the note for the first ink's seller he finds.  “Excuse me, where I can buy this Premium Black starline Ink? Nee ~”

—----

Six times, it was six times where he was close to his goal. 4 entire months. Did he had any sleep at all? The excitement and adrenaline pumped his body every single time that scent turned stronger. Even his tactical plans had become better, no more useless fighting with minor pets. Let them drown between the crumbling walls and their bases. Only then he would then enter inside to check the gains—as long as anything precious would go back to Akatsuki's funds it was an excuse to continue his hunt. 

It's just too exciting to stop now. He feels truly more a beast than a human—driven only by that desire to find and end Orochimaru's life. Is that what desire tastes like? It's a powerful thing. Another thing he learned. He will be sure to thank him when he bites his head off.

Lighting country. 

The sky is clear, there’s no sign of rain soon. There's a distant tremor and a loud crash that scared the birds from the top of the mountains. Cracks on the wall that start slowly to leak water. Light rain starts to fall followed by a strong torrent from the top of the mountains that suddenly seems as if someone broke down a barricade. 

Another louder tremor.

Finally.

A thing jumps from the top, failing down right by the border of the platform. Samehada breaks the floor upon landing. The bigger figure has his face down, the shinobi doesn't need two hands now to do signs. The mist invades their stage and only his shadow can be seen. 

"Found you, neeee. My Cinderella.... Kekekekekekeke. ~" 

He knows better than anyone to sub underestimate one of the sannins; the shadow grows in size as Samehada's silhouette disappears. The monster is five sizes his own figure, on his fours it seems even larger.  Gray skin, claws that tap over the ceramic's floor. Dorsal fin is what can be seen the most in between the thick mist. 

This form had not been used before in that whole year, it was rather something he rarely needed to. However for this execution, everything needed to be special. To clean his mistakes—to end that headache of wrong choices. It's just like in the sea, the Monster of Kirigakure circles and circles. Until he attacks, he pins down the male figure down to the floor.

He lost weight.

His fangs are closer to their cheek, he breathes closer as he drools out of anticipation.

He changed his shampoo. 

Its time. 

Because killing his comrades is his special mission. What a terrible life.

and, The monster drags his tongue over Orochimaru's cheek. 

[hylaversicolor]

When under the servitude of Takigakure as an elite ninja, Kakuzu took on a mission to assassinate Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage. This mission, however, ended in failure against the God of Shinobi. Despite the insurmountable danger faced on the mission, what awaited his return to his village was the stigma and harsh punishment associated with the failure of his objective. In response to this treatment, a wrong levied against a shinobi who had put life and limb on the line for his village, Kakuzu came to hold a violent hatred for Takigakure as he escaped from imprisonment. In his flight from the village, Kakuzu killed the village elders, took their hearts, and fled with knowledge of the village's most prized forbidden techniques. He made a living off bounty hunting on the black market, and tearing out the still-beating hearts of powerful shinobi to extend his own lifespan and arsenal. At some time in the past, he apparently encountered the Gold and Silver Brothers and witnessed Kinkaku's jinchūriki transformation.

like this HAD to have been after hashirama got kurama bc i think at that point it was not clear which nations would arise as the five great ones so everything was up in the air. staring in disappointment at kishimoto not establishing that kakuzu's failure wasn't just "boo we're disappointed in your lack of skills" but rather "boo you failed to put takigakure on the map now we'll never be rich" . i think the first shinobi world war really just came down to who could mobilize the fastest (eg assemble all the clans of their land together towards a common goal, perhaps via forced assimilation if necessary - look at the yuki clan). suna already had a tailed beast so they were at an advantage. i NEED to know what happened in the other villages though i feel like kiri was a hot mess in particular

also kakuzu has met kinkaku and ginkaku ?? ?? ? ? ?? kishimoto i need a full length naruto founding era prequel NOW

[shisui-uchiha-anon]

“I know you. You aren’t this terrible person people see you as and made you become. There’s still some light within you. I see it…”

"Is that supposed to be a joke? Because I don't see me laughing" Shisui answers taking down his Akatsuki cloak. His infiltration mission was over. The Akatsuki were gone last one standing fell. Shisui had all the data inside the scroll that he handed over to Orochimaru. Once the cloak was off that left only a bandage over his head to be removed. A perfect deception to fool everyone that he is missing it, the eye. Shisui was that familiar face that made even Itachi lower his guard. Akatsuki maybe got rid of one snake but they sure didn't hope to get another one who had a boyish face of Uchiha Shisui.

A light inside him? Sannin was not wrong, there is a thing with Orochimaru he is almost never wrong. There is a light deep inside of a cruel cold heart and dismissive behavior. A child that is locked deep within him. A child who loved Konoha who loved his parents, his lover, and his friends who respected the elders. But one by one those things were taken from him at a young age. Elders who should stand for the good betrayed him. So he choked the light to survive and he did survive.

"I have detailed report as you predicted all died in a way you said they would. A detailed report along with their secrets" Shisui extended his naked arm to a small white snake with red eyes, a small creature slithered over his warm bare arm ending up wrapped around his neck, nuzzling Uchiha's cheek as if that was the most natural thing in the whole world. Poison? Shisui has no need to fear it. Bearing the curse mark makes him immune to all poisons.

"Sasuke killed Itachi, or Itachi made it look like that. In the end, Itachi just gave in to him" The light in Shisui wanted to rush in and help Itachi, but the man who was now Shisui denied it. Eyes closed, the heart of stone, Itachi was nothing to him now. "Sasuke took his body and took out his eyes. Deidara fell to Sasuke as well, his obsession to kill Uchiha was his downfall. Hidan died as he lived stupidly cut in pieces like a fish. Kisame the tuna breath killed himself. Kakuzu fought well he almost got them but they figured out his secret. Masked man hilled Konan. Or should I say Obito. A puppeteer of this show yet just a puppet himself for Madara."

Shisui waited to hear what Orochimaru has to say to all that? Also, he waited to hear him explain that light thing he started. "So I am still waiting to hear a punch line of that light in me threatening to blind all with goodness?"

[shinnogi]

      The old miser hummed, intrigued by the younger’s word once more. In his point of view, despite being very much like all of the members of the akatsuki in the sense that they were all misfits and cast out from where they should have belonged, Itachi was much like those of the generation the young Uchiha had been born to.

      ❛  Considering where you come from,  ❜  Kakuzu began, deep voice showcasing neutrality which to him almost meant softness.  ❛  You’re practically the poster child of your generation, Itachi.  ❜  Kakuzu was fortunate — or not, to have experienced the brutality of two different nations. Tasted the rot of Takigakure as they sent him on a suicide mission to face the god of shinobi, and the rot of Konoha as said god decided to follow through and practically murder a child.

      No one in the organisation knew, and Kakuzu was never going to tell them, but he was not meant to be at the front line of anything back then. He was a doctor, a medic-nin and yet his village still sent him to kill quite possibly the strongest shinobi that had ever lived — without telling Kakuzu exactly who he was hunting. It was because of that, that the miser knew Itachi wasn’t as well as he pretended to be. Though he was unaware of what ailed the younger man, he knew it was probably bad.

      ❛  There is a certain type of suffering only those who were born and bred in Konoha experience.  ❜  He commented, unique eyes forward, not looking back at the child behind him.  ❛  To grow up believing your village righteous and good only to experience the rot within, to be thrown to the wolves.  ❜  Kakuzu did not know how that village conducted itself now, but from the looks of Itachi and Orochimaru, it couldn’t have changed much.

      The masked man turned his face slightly, so that the corner of his eye could catch a glimpse of the young Uchiha behind him.  ❛  That kind of betrayal lingers on your generation and the older one.  ❜  Kakuzu had gotten revenge on those who had wronged him long ago, he would not lie and say the anger did not remain, but he was no longer as chained by the betrayal as he had been as a young boy.  ❛  It’s something not even money can heal.  ❜

      Kakuzu hummed again, surprised to find himself agreeing with the younger man in parts.   ❛  Money is the source of all evil. Though if you control the money, you’ve a choice in your hands that wouldn’t be there without it.  ❜   It was simply the basis in which their world worked, lives were not worth more than a few Ryo, villages perhaps a couple billion. Nothing more, nothing less in the end it all came down to who owned money and how much of it they had.  

ㅤIt hand't been his intention to speak out loud, truly; just ramblings that came and went, in a mind that rarely ever [if at all] was allowed tranquility. Perhaps it was even that exhaustion causing the little mishap, after yet another night of no sleep. Which, of course, he told Kakuzu nothing about, because it was none of his business and Itachi would never allow it to interfere with the mission, as it was. He could deal with accidental conversations, that was damage control simple enough to carry out.

«I'm afraid I'm no accurate example of my generation, however.»

ㅤThe quirky child who'd once been said to be as wise as a Hokage already, by the Lord Third himself. And what did that serve him, in the end? A big load of nothing; his parents still butchered, his brother still scarred for life.

ㅤ«But I do prefer to see them as such. As nuanced. And with the potential to be changed and improved, if we so wish and are willing to make the effort.»

ㅤAkatsuki's goal, in a way. And that suddenly made him curious about his temporary partner, because he'd never stopped to consider where Kakuzu's loyalty resided. In a completely different shade than Kisame's, that much was clear as rainwater - but did the man care for the organization's ultimate plan at all? Or was it, simply, a means to an end and convenient for him to follow, for the time being? Of course, Itachi also knew better than to ask. Unlike Hidan, if his head was to be separated from the neck, it would very much become useless assuming Hidan's head had a use to start with.

ㅤ«Yet, I do not entirely disagree with you, Kakuzu-san.» Getting the hint, the Uchiha made himself stand and bravely ignored the way in which his entire body protested, grateful that at least his lungs were paying him a break for the day, and followed after the older one. «Capitalism is far too ingrained in the world to be removed. I personally see no sense in it, but I cannot downplay its importance.» 

[saintrocklee]

❛ i broke my rules for you. doesn’t that mean anything? ❜

for daddy kakuzu pls 🌸✨

💰 kakuzu x reader 💰 supernatural (ish) AU part one | part two | part three warnings: mentions of alcohol. kakuzu is an old man who’s sick of reader’s shit. we love that for them.

this is part three of my kakuzu prompt series. i recommend reading parts one & two (linked above) before indulging.

with how angry kakuzu had seemed during his last ... visit ... you didn’t think you’d see him again. at least, not for awhile. it was funny, that he didn’t terrify you. even in his anger you weren’t afraid of him - there was just something about him.

you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

and wasn’t that ironic?

huge, scary, supernatural being with horrifying tendrils of thread that you were sure could snap your neck or choke you out in seconds. bright, more animalistic than human eyes that tracked your every move. you’d never even seen the rest of his face.

and you weren’t afraid of him. because he’d never hurt you.

you couldn’t say why you knew that.

it would make sense, for you to be afraid of him. regardless of what he was, your past dealings with men have left you scarred. large, angry men gave you anxiety and you avoided them like the plague, lest they lash out and hurt you.

but not your monster. never him.

you’re busy painting your toenails, surrounded by lit candles and low light, when he shows up again. his sudden appearance startles you and you end up swiping your foot with red polish, sucking in air and almost choking on it.

did supernatural monster men not know how to knock, or was your devil just a special kind of rude?

he says nothing, just stares down at you with that damn look in his eye. like he’s aggravated, like you’ve somehow wronged him.

"christ.” you gasp out, heart pounding in your ears, before capping your nail polish and twisting it shut. kakuzu doesn’t say anything to you, just keeps you pinned with his gaze, and you grab a kleenex to try and clean up your foot.

you hadn’t spoken out loud to him in a few days, deciding to forgo your habit of muttering things out loud to yourself, ever since he pinned you to a brick wall and declared you were his. the moment had left your head spinning, picking apart every word he spoke to you. you had so many questions, but your tongue had remained heavy in your mouth.

this moment was no different.

after you cleaned off your foot, you toss the dirtied kleenex into the trash next to your couch. kakuzu follows the toss with his eyes before turning his gaze back to you. you meet him head on, and lean back, crossing your arms easily over your chest while your bare feet rest against the coffee table.

he came to you. if he wanted to talk, he could.

the boldness you’re feeling, the confidence - it’s new. it tingles under your skin, skimming against your nerves. it’s warm and you feel like your spine is straighter than it’s ever been. you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

it feels good.

the silence between you two is crackling. thick. you watch him unblinkingly, and while you’ve decided you wouldn’t be speaking until he did, you would honestly give anything to know what he was thinking. your monster was confusing, and you know clarity isn’t something he was going to offer you.

you belong to me.

what a strange thing to say. you know he meant it.

but why?

you were sure you had sold just your heart to him, and only after you were finished with it. you didn’t realize you had given all of yourself to him. you were certain it wasn’t part of the contract.

you were certain he knew it too.

so why -

“you’ve been awfully quiet, girl.”

ah.

you blink, his voice pushing gravel up under your lungs, along with a heat that’s foreign to you. it was heat you hadn’t felt in a very long time, and it catches you completely off guard - just like his comment.

was he ... bothered by it? your silence?

“is that why you’re here? to check on me?” you ask, voice soft. green eyes narrow at you in annoyance and you have to fight a smile. he was always so annoyed, your monster. always so put out, so bothered. like everything you did managed to get right under his skin and stay there, burning nothing but irritation through him.

you wonder if you’re the first. to bother him so much.

the heat in your tummy burns hotter.

he doesn’t answer you, and you don’t expect him to. the confidence you felt earlier is starting to fade, being replaced by a lighter feeling. a small amount of giddiness is welling up inside you and you feel ... playful.

you sit up, putting your feet on the ground and lean forward, resting your elbow on your knee and your chin in your hand.

“i could sing, if you like.” you muse, biting your tongue to keep from grinning at the way kakuzu blinks at you.

“not that i’m very good at it, but if you’re wanting to hear noise so bad -”

“quiet.”

you have to pull your lips into your mouth to keep from laughing. he’s well and truly angry now, and you’re sure you see movement from where you assume his hands are, resting at his sides. clenching his fists maybe? or was it his magic thread, dancing under his cloak?

you find yourself hoping he’ll bring them out.

kakuzu watches as your eyes sparkle in amusement and feels his fingers twitch with annoyance.

idiot girl.

stupid girl.

foolish, foolish girl.

you had thought yourself to be clever, to tease him - to try and pull him into your game.

you were just digging your own grave.

your heart, beating just under your skin, called out to him. he could hear it clearly - the sweet melody pulsing in his ears, making his blood and nerves sing. his own hearts catch up to your tempo immediately and he’s once again drawn to you.

that and your sparkling eyes have him rooted where he stood, not wanting to move. there’s a irritating burn coursing through him - it has him on edge and his thread coiling around him, begging to reach out. to touch.

he wants to laugh, he wants to throw it all in your face, he wants your fear. you were so naive, to not be afraid of him - to not cower in his presence. he can’t ever recall meeting a human as ignorant as you. dense. absolutely mindless.

and yet, his thread pulls toward you anyway.

your silence had been even more annoying. there was no more incessant chatter in his ear, therefore no reason to appear. he thinks maybe this time he’s done it, he’s made you realize exactly what he was and exactly what he would take from you. so he comes, only to find you amused and sparkling, lips hidden behind teeth to keep from smiling. at him.

he’s disappointed at the relief he feels. he’s disappointed that he’s here at all.

you were a mortal, a mere blip on his timeline. you were nothing - the forest he found you in held more significance that you did, the trees that twisted around you held more importance than you did. you were nothing.

and yet, his thread pulls toward you anyway.

annoying girl.

a part of him wishes he could kill you, to just end it. whatever it was you were doing to him was unacceptable and he wanted to just pull your heart from your chest and be done with it. but he can’t, the contract was clear, and for once kakuzu isn’t sure what to do.

he needs to leave. he shouldn’t have come.

when was the last time he had done something so impulsive? so thoughtless? kakuzu wonders if your stupidity was contagious.

he turns, ready to disappear, when your voice stops him.

“you don’t have to leave. you can come by whenever you want, just ... maybe announce yourself? unless your goal is to literally give me a heart attack.”

your tone, so light and playful, heats his very bones. he can’t remember ever being teased, being made fun of. he slices his head through the air, turning his whole body to face you.

“i will not comply with the petty demands of a human.”

kakuzu laces his words with promised threats of harm, his tone unyielding in it’s depth, but you’re not phased. you shrug a shoulder and stand, picking up the bottles of color you had on your table, no longer meeting his eyes.

“that’s fair i guess. demons probably don’t see any use in being polite.”

he stills, hearts stopping in his chest. you were comparing him to scum, to the bottom feeders that plagued him with their continued existence. he sees the quirk of your lip, the beginnings of a smile, and he seethes.

you move to put your nail polish away in the bathroom when there’s a whoosh of air and a cloaked chest blocking your path. you jump at the sudden movement and snap your head up, mouth parting as kakuzu looms over you.

“do not tease me, girl.”

you want to respond, to say something, but all air has left your lungs and your throat runs dry. you idly wonder if he was doing it on purpose, if he was the one who stole the moisture from your mouth and the air from your chest.

but you know it’s just you. reacting. to him.

“i am not one of them.”

he’s closer now, and you take a small step back to steady yourself. green eyes narrow and then you feel it.

his thread.

you feel a soft strand curl around your ankle and it’s touch is so light it almost tickles. it wraps around and around, curling up your bare shin, your knee, and then pressing into your thigh. you can’t breathe, you can’t move, you can’t think.

“i will come and go as i please. i do not answer to you.”

you blink, tongue coming out to wet your lips, and swallow.

“so you’ll be back, then.” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. kakuzu freezes and you feel his thread disappear from your leg entirely. he takes a step back and find yourself taking a step forward before he vanishes. you slump and fall back to sit on the arm of your couch, heart beating furiously against your skin - along with the faint feeling of butterfly wings, just below your chest.

he’d be back.

you were sure of it.

his next visit was far less dramatic.

he’d shown up again as you were watering your plants, and the orange and red hues from the setting sun mixed with the faint noise from the street below you was relaxing. peaceful. you’re finding more moments like these, where you feel completely at ease. safe.

when you feel him behind you, you don’t jump. or move. you wonder if he did it on purpose; seconds before he arrived you felt something heavy around you. it had been fleeting, and then he appeared, cloak actually flapping and making noise.

he’d announced himself. like you asked.

the butterflies in your tummy beat against you and you have to fight to keep from turning to him. instead, you keep tilting the watering can into a pot and move on to the next, until he speaks first. his voice sends heat through you and the depth behind it has your knees turning to mush.

you’re not sure why, but it feels like a victory.

“you do not wish him dead. why.”

oh.

the victorious feeling leaves your body violently and you turn, clutching your watering can in your grip. he’s staring at you like he always did but his gaze is different. he’s still gruff, your monster, but his eyes. there’s no irritation there. just a hard stare, still unyielding and it pins you to the spot.

“i-” you start, before frowning and sighing. you place your watering can on the floor and sit in your tiny chair, mind turning. you actively tried to avoid thinking about your ex-husband and the abuse you suffered at his hand, but you think it’s a fair question.

not that he was really asking. he was demanding that you tell him and something sparks in your chest.

“wishing someone dead … truly dead … that’s a difficult thing.” you answer slowly, and you have to hide a smile behind your hand when kakuzu snorts.

“i was inside his mind, girl. i saw everything. the boy should be dead.”

you stiffen.

“i didn’t realize you could do that.” you reply carefully. kakuzu shifts, and you turn your head to watch as his thread came out, watching as the tendrils seemed to hover and twist around him. there were so many, way more than you’ve ever seen, and you find yourself leaning forward.

“only in times of extreme distress.” he responds vaguely and your spine straightens. that meant —

“what did you do?” you whisper and the corners of kakuzu’s eyes move. you still can’t see his face but you know he’s smiling cruelly at you. your fingers twitch, you want to see him. all of him.

“my methods are none of your concern, girl.”

maybe. maybe not.

“but he’s alive?”

kakuzu snorts again and his thread jerks in agitation.

“he lives. barely.”

you nod, and turn to look over the railing of your balcony. the sun had set further and the street lights had flickered on. you assumed kakuzu would leave but he didn’t, and you could still feel his gaze on you.

“have you ever been married?” you ask suddenly, turning toward him, and you think he might have blinked in surprise at you.

“no.”

you smile again and nod, bringing your legs to your chest.

“never married. magic thread. old. likes hearts.” you murmur, eyes moving down to look at his broad chest. he told you he possessed five hearts. did that mean —

“do you have your five hearts, inside of you?”

kakuzu nods, head barely moving, and you rest your chin on your knees, worrying your lip with your teeth thoughtfully.

“who were they?”

you can tell your question surprises him. his threads twitch around him at your words and he cocks his head ever so slightly. you wait patiently, blinking up at him slowly, and you have to hide your smile when you see his shoulders settle. like the tension was leaving him.

to your surprise, he tells you.

when he’s finished you feel … heavy. full. almost peaceful.

he tells you of a boy who just wanted to save his mother and that he gave her a lifespan to match his own before collecting the boy’s heart when it was time. he tells you of a woman, desperate for children, and says that he collects her heart once she’s able to see them grow into adulthood. there’s a fisherman, wanting to just spend a life as sea with no worries. a town healer, who wanted to save all of his patients. an elderly woman, who just wanted to keep her village safe.

the sun has long left and the crickets you hear barely distract you from the warmth and flutter of wings in your tummy. you knew your monster wasn’t a cruel being, but this proved it. he was calculating, dangerous, impatient. but not cruel. and this new knowledge, the backstories behind his hearts has your mind spinning. you try and come up with something to say, maybe another question, until you just sigh and reward him a warm smile.

“it’ll be an honor, then. to join them one day.”

kakuzu meets your eyes for the first time since he’d started speaking and holds your gaze for a moment before responding.

“yes.”

you break away from those green, green eyes, and rest your cheek against your knees. it was still fairly warm outside and there was a breeze, ticking your skin. you’re sleepy, you think, and need to get up soon to go to bed. but your body has other plans and you feel your eyelids grow heavy without your consent, feeling the breeze tug and wind through your hair carefully.

kakuzu watches in fascination as you easily fall asleep, curled up in your chair, still in his presence. his thread had reached out to you and was currently tangling in your hair, the need to touch becoming too strong. his hearts beat in tandem with yours and he finds himself moving toward you. it wouldn’t bode well, to leave you outside, and he carefully lifts you, once again uncovering his arms to hold you.

it’s a curious feeling, the way he wants. he wants your company, your questions, your touch.

he’s breaking so many of his rules. shattering them without thought and moving without purpose, just letting impulsive choices control his actions.

there’s a part of him that hates you, truly despises you. he’d once been human, eons ago, and no matter what he did his humanity always somehow broke the surface and invaded his thoughts. took over his actions.

this moment was no different.

when you wake, hours later, you’re surprised to be in your own bed and can’t help but smile into your pillow, butterflies making an absolute mess of your insides.

he comes again, and you feel him before you see him. you don’t even react as you continue washing dishes, humming thoughtlessly to the song on your boom box. you finish with a plate and place it on your drying rack before cocking your head at him behind you.

“why thread?” you ask, not even bothering to ask why he kept coming around or even waiting for him to speak first. you were grateful, for his company. for his continued visits.

you think he was maybe grateful for yours too.

“they’re an extension of me.”

you’re facing your sink again and smile at his extremely vague answer. always avoiding your questions, always refusing to give you any kind of clarity. there’s a feathery touch, behind your knee, and then you see long tendrils start to wrap loosely around your forearms.

“so … like limbs?” you question, shivering at the way they inadvertently tickle you. there’s a noncommittal grunt from behind you and you roll your eyes, smile still bright on your face. there’s a tug, around your thigh, and you sigh before dropping the cup you were rinsing off into the sink and turn to face him, drying off with a dosh towel before tossing it back onto the counter.

his eyes are following you like normal, and he’s still covered, but his cloak is open now. your eyes rest on his chest, covered by black material that disappears under his head covering and mask. you can see scraps of his arms, and the large stitches that seem to hold them together. he’s tanned, bulking, and the thread coming from him presses into your skin firmly.

“can you feel with them, or are they more like hair?” you ask, trailing your gaze down to follow where the threads reaches from him to you. you still can’t tell where it comes from and curiosity is making you bold.

there’s another tendril, curling loosely around your neck, pressing into your pulse point. you pay it no mind, focusing on the way the other tendrils seem to dance around your arms and hands, moving around your fingers. they were firm, kind of wire-like, but pliant and you’re reminded of your mother’s long hair, combing through it with your fingers.

“i can feel your heart beat, girl.”

you experimentally capture a thin line between your forefinger and thumb and rub it between your fingers gently. a smile tugs on your lips as you watch the end of it curl around your thumb.

“they’re beautiful.” you murmur and the thread stops it’s movements completely, freezing around your body.

“i’ve killed thousands with these.”

you glance up at him and cock your head slightly.

“is that a brag or a warning?”

kakauzu narrows his eyes in annoyance and you grin so widely you feel your nose scrunch up. he watches you for a moment before his thread is called back and disappears inside of his cloak.

“watch your tone, girl.” he warns, tone harsh and oh so grumpy. you laugh lightly and turn back to finish your dishes.

“apologies.” you say over your shoulder, unable to keep the amusement from your tone. there’s a grunt and then silence and you think he might be gone until you feel something behind your ear. it’s small, soft, and your breath catches in your throat when you feel it wrap around a lock of your hair and tug lightly before disappearing. you whirl around, and blink when you see that he’s gone. you bring your hand, soapy and wet, to the side of your head and smile.

the next visit is instigated by you. you were lonely, bored, and had finished off a bottle of wine. you were supposed to get dinner with a friend but she canceled last minute and now you were at home, drinking straight from the bottle, deciding to move some furniture around. you had just finished, sweat collecting on the back of your neck and the alcohol singing in your system, making you bold. brave.

you want to see your monster.

“kakuzu?” you call out loud, frowning when you notice your bottle was indeed empty. you sigh and move to your fridge, rifling through it for another one. you were off tomorrow and didn’t have plans so, why not.

there’s no answer and you snort before popping the cork off and taking a sip. your devil was a funny creature, coming whenever he wanted but not when you actually called.

“i have a question.” you say, your voice twinkling and playful. taking another swig, you plop down on your couch and curl your legs up underneath you. but still, there’s nothing.

“okay, fine. s’a good question though. deep. th-thought provoking.” you stutter, alcohol making your tongue twist behind your teeth. this pulls a snort from you and soon you’re laughing. here you were, drunk in your apartment, talking to your demon monster.

there’s a whoosh of air in front of you and you sit up, grinning broadly when kakuzu appears. you inhale sharply at his appearance, mind being absolutely wiped of all coherent thought.

he wasn’t wearing his cloak.

“you irritate me, girl.” he snaps, voice sending tremors through you, but you’re distracted by the way his arms are crossed against his chest. the shirt he’s wearing is form fitting, high necked and sleeveless. there are more stitches up his forearms and biceps, along with tattoos. his muscles were bulging, huge and imposing. he wore dark pants that covered his legs entirely and sandals. it’s the most of him you’ve ever seen and you’re breathless.

he eyes the bottle in your hand and the empty one on your counter. kakuzu has to physically fight the urge to roll his eyes.

stupid girl.

“you came.” you murmur, resting your bottle of wine on the coffee table. kakuzu spares you a glance and that’s when he really sees you. you were barely clothed, no doubt due to the hotter weather, and the breeze from your open balcony door tugs at your hair. he sees the thin shine of sweat on your neck, your collarbone, your chest - and once again he finds himself wanting.

you were turning into a dangerous little thing.

“your question.” he all but growls, and has to physically steel himself when you excitedly sit up, once again grinning broadly at him.

“why the mask?” you ask bluntly, reaching for your wine again. you were certain that if you could see kakuzu’s face, he’d be giving you the world’s most annoyed deadpan.

“you said thought provoking.” he grinds out and you shrug, leaning back and taking a drink.

“it is! it provoked a thought. a thought that said, why does kakuzu cover his face.” you cheekily reply and there’s a heat in your tummy at the way he regards you. always so intensely.

“you think yourself to be clever, girl?”

you nod, smile widening at the way he narrows his eyes. you were pushing his buttons, you knew, but you couldn’t help that it was fun.

“do you think it makes you mysterious?” you ask, words slurring a bit, before pushing yourself up into a standing position. you place your bottle on the table again and walk around it, coming to face him. he doesn’t move back, only slowly uncrosses his arms as you approach him. he doesn’t say anything either, and there’s no evidence of his thread coming out. the alcohol is hitting you in all the right places, making you feel fuzzy and warm. your hands twitch at your side and you decide to try and different route.

“can … can i see?”

kakuzu blinks at you.

“i just … i can’t imagine it being anything bad.” you murmur, unaware of the particular effect you were having on him at that particular moment.

he says nothing, doesn’t even move a muscle, and you take it as permission. if wanted to leave, he would. if he wanted to stop you, he would.

you slowly raise your hands, giving him plenty of time to grab you or step back, and inhale through your mouth when your fingers barely touch the sides of his face. the fabric you feel is coarse, heavy, and you slowly start to pull his mask down. you carefully reveal him, breaths leaving you in pants.

his nose was normal enough and you keep going until it falls completely, hanging loosely from his neck, hands hovering by his cheeks. you stare at his mouth, eyes trailing from side to side as you take him in. his lips were normal as well, human like his nose, but …

there were large stitches that started at the corner of his mouth and went all the way up his cheeks, disappearing behind his head covering. more thread, seemingly holding him together, and your fuzzy mind wants to touch.

your fingers twitch and you go to touch his jaw when you feel something twist around your wrists to stop you. a tendril of black thread holds your hands still and kakuzu looms closer, green eyes bright.

“just let me.” you breathe, voice feather soft. he doesn’t move for a moment, doesn’t let up on the pressure - and then you feel his thread slacken. he doesn’t remove the tendrils from you, but you smile softly anyways, and finally press your fingertips to his skin.

his jaw is strong, firm underneath your touch, and his skin was warm. you trail your fingers up, cautiously avoiding the stitching, to push back his head covering.

“i want to see all of you.” you explain, and the thread twisted around your wrist let’s you. you push back the lighter colored fabric and blink in surprise when inky black hair falls from his head. the strands brush against you and you marvel at how soft it is, how long it is.

he’s a handsome thing, your monster.

the heat in your belly is starting to boil against your skin and you take a step forward. kakuzu is unmoving , and you trail your hands down, one falling limply at your side while the other rests just below his mouth. you were having trouble breathing at this point, heart thumping wildly in your chest, and the boldness you were feeling earlier was fizzling out - leaving nothing but nerves and confused arousal.

“you’re beautiful.” you murmur, and your words break the trance. the thread against your wrists tighten and you’re tugged forward, chest bumping with his. he keeps one of your hands pinned to your side while he holds the other one in the air next to his head.

“watch it.” he warns, but you’re past the point of return. you don’t care about what he was, the contract, anything. you just want … you want …

“is all of this, because of the contract?” you wonder out loud, wanting an explanation for the way your skin seemed to be on fire, and there’s a derisive snort above you.

“no.”

“no.” you agree mindlessly, trailing your gaze upwards to meet his eyes. there’s a heat there, behind the fluorescent green, and it makes the butterflies in your belly flap their wings at a blinding pace.

“why a signature, instead of a kiss?”

your questions surprises even you, you didn’t really mean to ask it, and there’s a tightening on your wrists.

“are you asking me for something, girl?”

you tremble visibly at his voice, so deep and inhuman, curling around you like his thread. it was fair, his question. were you asking him for something?

“i … i don’t know that i can. that i should.” you whisper, silently begging for clarity, and kakuzu narrows his eyes. you keep going, your voice hoarse in your throat.

“i don’t know what i am to you.”

and wasn’t that the question? you’re certain that the contract was clear, a heart in exchange for getting rid of your ex. the visits, the talks, the touches - they weren’t mentioned. none of that was stated. and when he told you of his other hearts, of how he procured them, he made no mention of any extra contact.

were you special?

“i broke my rules for you.”

you inhale sharply and blink, mouth parting in surprise at his tone.

“doesn’t that mean anything?”

he’s snapping at you again. he’s back to being angry, to being agitated. his face closes in on yours and you stutter a breath, heart beating wildly in your ears. you were starting to feel lightheaded and the arousal coursing through you was becoming heated. unbearable.

you wanted him.

“i don’t know the rules.” you say back and kakuzu’s lips curl into a cruel smile. you’re entranced at this point, and the way his lips twist does nothing to help the heat you feel in your tummy.

“stupid girl.” he murmurs, and it feels more like a pet name than an insult. you find yourself starting to rise onto your tip toes, letting the alcohol and gravel in his voice control you. you wanted him. you wanted to —

a tendril curls in your hair and tugs at you, your head falling back as he presses you against his body and towers over you easily. you pant against him, and he watches for a moment before leaning down, mouth just a breath away from yours.

“next time, girl.”

and with that he’s gone, leaving you to stumble back in confused surprise, and a thousand more questions on your lips.

[cosmic-glow]

May I please get either 28 or 32 for our grumpy old man, Kakuzu?

Notes: I love Kakuzu and his bad temper, he's one of my favorites from Akatsuki and I love writing for him, so I hope you like it! <3

I'm back! And I should warn that this "drabble" got too long, so… you've been warned ^^"

 

Drabbles Game:

"You need be more romantic", “And you need be more realistic” and "Are you sick?“, "Yes, of you” - Kakuzu Drabble

Pronouns: They/them.

 

 The man ripped the ends of bills that had already been paid to differentiate from those that would still give him a headache. The task naturally didn't please him, which left him with a static frown on his face. But, this time there was something else bothering him. His big - literally - friend (even if he wouldn't give in to say so) blue and stubborn pissing him off, Kisame.

- Come on, I saw how you look at them, you don't treat anyone like that, there's no use denying it, you like Y/n - the man smiled waiting for the older's reaction.

 Kakuzu snorted and set the documents aside, realizing he wouldn't be left alone to finish the task.

- Frankly, your ability to think and say nonsense is admirable - he got up from his chair, already impatient.

 Tried to get away from the man but he chased after him even more excitedly.

- Oh, I knew! You always try to get away from the subject when it's something that makes you nervous! 

- You get on my nerves! That's right!

- Come on buddy. There's no harm in being interested in someone… especially when that someone is as attractive as Y/n…

 The brunette slammed the drawer that held the folder with the documents. His body's automatic reaction to hearing someone talk about you that way.

- I'm old for this shit! Love relationships are a waste of time and money, only cause headache and stress. I understood this a long time ago.

- You need be more romantic…

- And you need be more realistic!

 Kakuzu turned in a spin toward Kisame, a quick movement that caused Hoshigaki to stop abruptly to avoid falling on the man. It was clear from the look in his eyes how irritated he was by the prolongation of this matter, but his voice remained calm in his usual tone.

- Y/n is young, still has a lot to live. I have lived too much, seen too much, stopped believing in too much, can no longer offer what they wants or deserves in this kind of relationship… So stop insisting on this idea.

 The tall man fell silent, was it possible to see a sad look fall on his face, perhaps with pity for his friend?

- I just thought you could allow yourself to experience something like that again…but I see what you mean.

- Stop thinking and worrying so much about something that even I don't care about, Kisame - the man thought of saying something else but had to stop to turn around and sneeze.

- Jeez, are you okay, friend?

- I hope so, someone has to work here - he said before leaving the room and ending the conversation.

(...)

 To the man's misfortune, he was wrong and had fallen ill.

 And here he was, locked in his room after stuffing himself with meds, trying to be productive while flipping through his bingo book after giving up on taking care of Akatsuki's savings when it started giving him a headache. He quickly skimmed over the names of the ninjas to see the value of their reward and circled those that interest him, but his mind was far away. He thought about what Kisame had told him. The man was not mistaken, Kakuzu did look at you with different eyes, in addition to treating you differently. There was something about you that soothed him, that fascinated him and made him want to be with you, almost as if he needed it. However, the man knew that he had no head for these things anymore, his youthful years were over long ago, believing he could no longer give you everything you want, feeling afraid of being just an annoyance to you.

 Kakuzu was absorbed in all these dying thoughts when the loud slam of the door against the wall as it was abruptly opened pulled him back to reality. He turned around ready to defend himself or kick out whoever it was. Yet there you were, smiling at him.

- Oh, so it was really true that you had been hiding here.

- I thought I locked the door.

- You know a door is never locked for me, Kakuzu… this one was just a little stuck.

 The man huffed and rolled his eyes as he realized he couldn't get rid of you. It was true that just locking a door to stop you was useless, as one of your greatest skills is being able to unlock any type of padlock. Kakuzu looked back at the bingo book but wasn't reading anything else, his attention was on you now. Sitting on the edge of the bed you raised your eyes to the man expecting his to meet yours, and when he did you smiled once more.

- But then, why are you here?

- In my room? I think I should ask you that.

- Oh, you get it! Why did you lock yourself in here?

- It's not your proble- before finishing he was interrupted by a sudden cough.

- Oh, are you sick?

- Yes, of you! Can you leave now?!

- Okay, okay - you got up - … I'll bring you something.

 The man tried to protest, but you had already left the room and closed the door, leaving him alone again in the silence. Not even an hour had gone by when you re-entered the room, this time holding a bowl of, apparently, soup in your hands. 

- Here it is! My grandmother used to make this soup for me when I got sick… What happened often when I was a child, I had a bad immunity, anyway, I hope you like it! - handed the bowl carefully to him.

 Kakuzu analyzed the broth for quite a while before taking the spoon to his mouth. It wasn't like you had a reason to poison him, but never know. It was very hot, the ginger flavor stood out, was really good. After taking it he could feel the sense of relief in his throat. 

- Okay, now you need to rest, I'll take this, and this - you said picking up the empty bowl and the paperwork and the book that occupied his mind.

- I'm not a child, I'm fine - he insisted in a harsh tone.

- I know it's not, but if you don't get better soon the "kids" who work with you will set this place on fire, so rest ok?

 For an instant, due to an old custom in this situation, you moved your face close to his ready to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, but you held back, which resulted in you standing close enough to feel his breath on your neck. You didn't know what to do, I mean, that was normal when someone was depressed and donte, right? But still it was Kakuzu, how would he react? Completely lost you put the back of your hand against the man's forehead before saying "yeah, you still have a fever, good night Kakuzu!" and quickly leaving the room. God, he should think you're a complete weirdo idiot right now.

 The door to the room closed, but Kakuzu was still looking in the direction. Static and unresponsive to what had just happened. He realized that your initial intention wasn't to take his temperature, but then what was it? Was it…? No. He had to be hallucinating from fever to think of such a thing. But one thing he was still lucidly sure of, you cared for him. And thinking about it made him take a long sigh before lying down on the bed.

 Maybe Kisame was right, maybe he could allow himself to experience certain things. Or maybe it was just the fever not letting him think straight, who knows.

 Maybe another visit from you could make up his mind.

Masterlist

[effeminateboyninja]

hiii!!! i hope you’re doing okay 🥺 your writing is so cute and good <3. may i request hidan’s reaction after an argument w his S/O. it can be hc or one-shot, whatever you like~ ty already 🧚‍♀️

aw thank you honey!! I’m doing okay, just getting through the end of the semester. I hope you like it! 💚

Shot thru the heart - Hidan hcs ♡

arguments with Hidan are usually petty. he’s a bit of petty guy, lbr. he has a cutting tongue at the best of times, but when he gets in one of his moods he can turn that venom on you and say some pretty harsh things

which on one hand is nice because you don’t often have serious fights, but on the other, it gets tiring sometimes having to deal with his naturally abrasive attitude

and he feels bad about it, he really does. but he’s not used to admitting he’s wrong, or owning up to his actions or any of that boring stuff

relationships are new to him, ya know? the life of a travelling cultist/ninja gang member doesn’t leave a lot of time for romance after all

one night you’re sitting in the hideout between missions when Hidan storms in, slamming the door behind him and throwing his scythe across the room hard enough to knock the few pictures that you’d scattered across the walls to make the dingy safe house more homey on to the ground

“hey!” you snap “what the hell?!” but he doesn’t even acknowledge you, moving to the hideouts kitchen and swinging open the fridge

“no fucking alcohol... of course, there’s never anything good in this shithole,” he grumbled, rummaging around looking for something to take the edge off his day

finally, he turned to you, and instead of saying hello or apologizing for his childish outburst he just sighed loudly and began complaining, “Kakuzu was riding my ass today,” he drawled on but you didn’t listen, hands propped on your hips as you scowled at him and waited for him to notice your displeasure

eventually he took note of your sour expression. “what’s the frown for doll face? it doesn’t suit you.”

you rolled your eyes, motioning to the picture frames scattered on the floor by his weapon. his gaze followed your hands to the mess and he scoffed, “big deal. if it bothers you so much why don’t you clean it, huh? I’m not your bitch,” he spat out the last word and you stepped back involuntarily

it wasn't his words — you were used to him coming home in a state after a particularly tough job — it wasn't even the mess. it was the way he didn't seem to even notice about the discarded picture that lay amidst it, the only one you had of the two of you

"fuck you, Hidan!" you screamed, turning on your heel and stomping towards the bedroom where you promptly slammed the door and locked it behind you

"fuck you too, sweetheart!" he retorted, trying his best to maintain the sting in his tone from earlier but it was no use, the guilt crept in all the same as he caught a glimpse of your tears before you had a chance to hide them

he let out a frustrated groan and crossed his arms in a pout that didn't at all suit his intimidating appearance, pacing for a moment before the photograph caught his eye. his heart sunk and he leaned down to pick it up, smiling in spite of himself as he cherished the memory

"damn it," he hissed, cursing the softer side of him that you brought out as he trudged towards the locked door, dragging his feet in a futile effort to prolong the time until he had to reduce him self to an apology

"princess?" he called sweetly through the thin wood, hoping your favourite petname would soften you up, but it only earned him a muffled, "go away!' and the heavy thump of something being thrown against the door

he slumped against the doorframe, letting himself slide down to floor with a dramatic sigh before trying again, "c'mon, baby you know I didn't mean it." after a beat of silence you answered, "you really hurt me, Hidan."

his heart panged at the way the fight had completely drained from your voice. he'd always prided himself on being a heartbreaker but but it's the last thing he wanted to do to you

that's when he had a "brilliant" idea. his heart. then, without taking another second to think, he pulled out the extendable rod he used to torture his victims from his cloak and plunged it into his chest

from inside the room you heard a pained cry, and your curiosity got the best of you, pulling you to your feet and towards the noise. when you flung open the door you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, blood gushing from his self-inflicted wound

"hey princess," he looked up at you, his mischievous smirk only slightly marred by his wincing, "I hurt your heart, I heart mine - now we're even," he offered

your mouth fell open in disbelief and you sat beside him to start tending to his wound with your medical jutsu. "this is the stupidest thing you've ever done," you muttered, "and that's saying a lot."

"I know," he chuckled softly, his smirk turning down into a rare serious expression, "but I'm not good at apologies, or any of this,” he trailed off, motioning vaguely between the two of you. "this is my way of saying... I'm sorry."

he spun his head around, a light pink creeping over his cheeks at the admission and your anger softened just a bit. he was right, this was new to both of you and he was trying in his own demented way

you cupped your face in your hand and sighed, “you’re lucky you’re handsome, you know that?”

his wide grin was back in a flash and the next thing you knew he was scooping you up into his arms and pulling you to your feet. “I love you so much, thank Jashin you put up with me.”

you giggled as he spun you around, placing a myriad of kisses wherever he could reach. “and I love you too, but put me down! I haven’t finished healing you yet!”

but he was already moving towards the mess of broken glass and picture frames. “a little pain never killed anyone,” he joked with a smirk, “besides, we have to put that picture back up, I want everyone to see our pretty faces whenever they come back.”

at his words you relented, and you spent the next half hour watching him clean up. and by the time he finished hanging the photos, the one of you two placed proudly in the centre, the argument from earlier was far from your mind

you smiled across the room at him and he crossed the space between you in two long strides, taking your face in his strong hands for a passionate kiss. it was hungry and deep like all of his kisses, but underneath was a new softness, a sort of wordless apology hidden in the way his tongue ran over yours and the uncharacteristically gently way his hands found their way to your hair

things with Hidan might never be someone’s idea of a fairytale relationship, but that was never what you wanted anyway, was it?

[immoralimmortals]

Name 1: Hidan

Hello! I've decided that I have enough tidbits I've written for some Akatsuki members in my fic that I can make posts of them. There's a running story, but I hope you can enjoy this standalone post. Think of them as drabbles c:

Additional note: the subplot with Hidan in particular heavily explores self harm, exploiting his immortality.

“Sorry.”

“...Shut up,” he murmurs.

“Sorry.” She shuts her eyes.

But just as soon they have reason to flutter open; they can only do so, of course, when she finds a gentle hand takes her own. Hidan’s fingers brush over her knuckles. It’s him, this time, that won’t meet her eyes, his own narrowed while closed lips try to seal in the little breath not lost. The chain around his neck rises over his head. The pendent is set into her palm, and then his own palms fold underneath it. Abruptly, the world is hers.

“We praise Jashin for this pain, for this blood. Thank you for our lives, as we are reminded of the mortal cycle. In life, we anticipate death. In death, we begin to feel alive. Thank you for blessing your disciple, lord Jashin.”

He’s never prayed out loud before in the time they’ve known each other, let alone for both of them. There’s a long pause; the assumption it’s her turn comes around. What should she pray for?

...She doesn’t know. But still, with this spectacle, she’s filled with something overwhelming, and it should come out. Instinctively, she leans down at the end of his prayer, and Jashin’s cold silver sigil is pressed to her lips gently, reverently. He’s foolish enough to look up at this moment and witness this kiss. For the first time, in all her pure, weary glory, Hidan sees he was wrong. He sees she is radiant. He sees she is beautiful.

And silently, unknown to her, he repents for the sin of doubting his lord.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Perhaps she’s danced too close to the line, the joy of peeling his layers till his emotions are defenseless, because her pulse jumps once he whips back around, practically growling in the back of his throat. The groans fluctuate up and down as he, for once, is wordless, face bright red and his restless hand not knowing if it should clench into a fist. A wary Kakuzu watches as those fingers twitch into a flat palm, and with as much awkwardness in the air as water is on a humid day, he firmly pats her head. It's the first time anyone has given her affection, and it puts the moon in her sky and stars in her eyes. She's turned dumb with wonder.

“...Don’t die, alright?” Hidan’s touch ponders the softness of her hair before pulling back, lest he linger too long, dare to grin back. There’s nothing to be happy about; why pretend? “Do what I taught, n’ Jashin won’t let you.”

With nothing else left in him to give, the prophet walks away, out the door, and waits to leave. The breeze plays with the edges of his cloak like it’s trying to steal him away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“...Don’t worry about me, angel.” Another word...another thing he has never called her. Not out loud. She isn’t sure if this is a nightmare or a dream. She isn't sure anymore if she wants it to end. “Whatever can be done to a human body, I’ve done it. It’s been done to me. Whatever you feel...it’s nothing to me. I'll soak your suffering like a sponge. I can take that shake in your damn hands and carve it into a prayer.” Into his flesh. Into his soul. Jashin will surely hear them this way. “Just trust me.”

The stranger is unable to move her own body; it is so very easy to guide her fingers to clasp around the kunai’s handle...but something still isn't right. What is it?

…Ah, the most important part.

“Do you believe me?” he asks. “Do you believe me when I promise I won’t hurt you back?”

…

…

“I. Don’t.” Her mind is not in her body. “Know.” His fingers trail across her knuckles like butterfly kisses.

“Will you let me prove it?"

This is a nightmare of misunderstandings. She merely meant to say...that sometimes things are hard. Sometimes things scare her. And sometimes she needs to leave. This is far too drastic. There's no way she should ever ask this of him, that it'll do nothing but craft a desire to hurt other people. And yet.

And yet.

Religious purpose is used as an excuse to explore something truly deplorable.

"...Yes," she concedes, breathless.

That's all that is needed for the man to give her his everything. Hidan guides her grip on the kunai  with his own, and the disciple allows him, starting by pulling her down to his level, to her own knees so the symbol of his faith bleeds onto her dress. He brings the tip of the blade to the same palm he’s already struck to make his sigil, the hand laid face up between them with the wound's thin edges pinkened by healing cells. He grits his teeth at the first pinprick from the weapon she holds with his fostering attention, but he soon exhales in release as the line starts to draw. The new cut meets in the middle of his own and keeps going to forge an "x", the same orbit as star-crossed lovers.

Drip.

Drip.

His blood is now on their hands.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

There’s much that one does when in the company of friends they would never do otherwise, especially with the awareness that after being so open, you may as well continue. Thoughtlessly, as she would to others in a prior life in thanks, the woman states something he’s never heard, not genuinely, just as he turns his back to climb down and out of the attic:

"I love you."

The tone catches him off guard as much as the words. They echo in his ears.

I love you.

His eyes widen and his face pinkens, unseen by her even as he peeks over his shoulder to evaluate, to pick up the puzzle pieces and mash them together; she does not yet realize her mistake, and so she looks and sounds far too casual. And Hidan doesn't know how to say those words back , so he's left to just swallow them up and continue to go. She's going to wonder, later in this dark dank room all alone , if he heard her or not. How mortifying . But she means it, and therefore she cannot regret, even if she should have chosen her words differently as to be fully understood.

But she does love him, even too in a way she won’t admit to herself. Oh, she has no idea how abruptly she had just changed his life.

I love you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Next thing she knows, he’s sitting in the middle of his ritual circle, hooded eyes halfway between meditation and ecstasy as he lets the disciple crawl over and around him, though none of her skin is upon his own. She doesn’t cut; she traces, brushes the edges of him with the knife experimentally, savoring the sensation, feeling the way he reacts. The long edge of the kunai tickles down his jaw, lines down the shape of his neck and keeps going. Hidan’s lips are parted, and he behaves as if a lover is stroking him with their fingers instead of a weapon.

He dares not speak it, lest she stop, but now she really is a tease.

Hidan loves it.

Her eyes are wide, a quiver in her grasp that is both so terrifying and so very, very thrilling. Hidan is so...beautiful. She’s admitted it from the beginning— she has fucking eyes, of course he’s beautiful. From the way he slicks back his hair to the way his violet stare beguiles to the way he carries himself like he has nothing to lose. He is, indeed, a very conventionally attractive man.

...But she, too, remembers that the first day they met, he told her she’s not pretty. Not even good enough to sell.

The priest’s disciple is not a conventionally attractive woman, she knows, at least not to his returning gaze. Intentionally or not, he made that clear from the start. She has no chance, not in that sense.

Does he remember that as well? Probably not. But he doesn’t need to. She understands; she can take it. It’s okay if this is the closest she’ll ever feel to intimacy with Hidan, likely with anyone at all. It’s absolutely fucked, and she whispers so to him as if she’s going to stop...but if he likes it, she’ll do it. She'll pretend she does it just for him. That a piece of herself doesn't enjoy this, too.

He does nothing but smile at her little comment about indecency, a twitch so handsome it makes her concentration break. To her horror, the millimeter’s difference of pressure and contact is crossed. Red begins to emerge from a slice, over flesh that protects his heart. She remembers— she remembers the first and only other time she has cut someone else, even by accident. It was the day she and the reaper crossed paths, the moment she stole his scythe to take another’s life like she had the right to. The nights she doesn't dream of hands on her body are the ones where she has nightmares of the way that man's midsection split horizontally, pooled her in his blood, wrapped her ankles in his intestines.

Hidan sucks in a breath, and she's so afraid, so sure he'll regret everything...

...But the immortal grins, nice and wide. And with that, they both share the same high, one very familiar with it and one not at all. She’s terrified, but he’s here to help his docile master know how to wield a blade. His exhale is nearly orgasmic, tinged with his magnificent, eager voice. Both Jashinists are crumpled on the floor, helpless and as low as insects of the dirt through the view of the old cracked door. A metallic scent wafts an aura around them, sharper than any weapon he can swing.

“...Good girl.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Careful like she’s tissue paper, the dress is slipped off her shoulders, top pulling down first until fabric drifts to the floor. His hands are somehow both rough and soft, a hypocrisy much like him, and though she doesn't know what she feels there is still so very much of it as he lifts her vulnerable form up. The room is colder, but not for long. The sound of water fills her ears. She feels the sponge on her skin, sees his scars on his arms that reach over her, into the bath, and can compare them to hers. She has many where no one could see until now. He looks at her the entire time, those piercing violet eyes, but unlike himself, he says little. It’s a ritual of sorts, perhaps, a strange one to him though he can grasp its importance to her. There is, indeed, something intimate about caring for someone at their lowest. He combs her hair with just his hands and she has nothing at all to compare it to; it is simply an experience entirely new. It melds so oddly with her wondering about what’s under her own skin, the fact that she’s a couple gaping holes away from being the corpse that looks like just her. If she’s undead, is she so pale inside, too, or is she still as alive and vibrant as she feels?

The hands that caress her remind of a past promise.

Hidan really does think it’s a shame no one has seen her in this state before. Purity isn’t real, but a lack of appreciation is, and she already has too much to feel bad about. But it's over now, so soon. In reverse of before, he lifts her up, sets her on the bench. As is only fair, his shoulders become bare and black and red is pressed upon her, his cloak in leau of a towel to dry her off. It smells like Hidan, like death and wet metal and something so alluringly musky; if she's lucky, maybe it'll cling to her so there's a momento of this, however how brief it lasts. She stares at him with wide eyes and wonders what is underneath his skin, too.

Little does he know, she’s about to ask.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Angel…” he moans through the stale, iron taste collecting upon his lips. “Angel…” Exhausted sight raises to watch the glint of his knife, held so high above in two marvelous hands as she clasps it and the chain of his necklace between fists painted in his drying viscera. Light from a crack in his door shines upon her back, hides her face and brightens the shape of her being like she’s the unknowable on earth, heaven itself, here just for him. There’s a thought that runs through his head, distantly with the loss of blood.

Angel...is this what love is?

[theacevampire]

From Heaven II

Pairing: Kakuzu x gn!Reader

Genre: romance, angst

Wordcount: ~2.7k

Warnings: character death, language, canon-typical violence

Track: MEDUZA, Dermot Kennedy – Paradise

From Heaven masterlist

Three days later the Zombie Combo was on their way to Konohagakure to get the Kyuubi’s jinchuriki after the Akatsuki had extracted the Nibi from its jinchuriki. Yahiko, Sasori and I had gathered around a pond to watch the pending battle between them and the shinobi from Konoha who had been looking for them and were now trying to sneak up on them. But they noticed the shadows behind them.

Kakuzu had become suspicious earlier on their way to the village but had remained silent for the moment. “Hidan.”

“Yeah...”

They both jumped to the side, away from the crawling shadows. From somewhere paper bombs came flying and while they managed to parry these, their shadows got trapped by blades. I bit my lip nervously. This fight would be no walk in the park. The shadow manipulating boy was smart. From the very start he had planned to trap them like this.

The boy gave them a look full of hatred. “I bet you know that it’s made from a special metal that absorbs the user’s chakra characteristics. That Chakra Blade is a memento of Asuma, the man you killed. Well, let’s finish this.”

Hidan was trembling and a few drops of sweat rolled down his face, whether out of fear or from the blades, I didn’t know. “Hey! Hey! Hey! To tell the truth, aren’t we pretty screwed?!”

Sasori chuckled next to me. “I didn’t think I would ever see Hidan in distress or anything but confident in general. When did he lose his loudmouth?”

“Something’s wrong.” I shook my head, continuing the nervous chewing on my bottom lip. “This boy is way too confident. He’s too smart to turn up alone.” Looking around I spotted three other shinobi. Two were the teenagers who came as backing at the end of the last encounter and would be no trouble for Kakuzu and Hidan, but the third one would become a problem.

“Kakashi Hatake.”, Yahiko mumbled.

I nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of him. They say he has copied over a thousand jutsus with his Sharingan, right? That’s why he’s called the Copy Ninja.”

Sasori nodded nonchalant. “Yeah, he gave Deidara a really hard time when we had the jinchuriki of the Ichibi. Deidara lost his right arm while fighting him. His skills are no joke.”

“Oh, I remember. Kakuzu had to patch him up and even find a replacement for parts of it, but I didn’t know Kakashi caused it.” I shook my head and stopped the gnawing on my lip. There was no need to worry.

Five. Kakuzu had five hearts. That should be more than enough.

Down there, on the battlefield, the boy had possessed Hidan’s shadow and made him attack Kakuzu with his scythe, but the latter had buried his right arm in the ground when the explosions went off earlier and now managed to pull out the blade from his own shadow.

“You’re intelligent, unlike my partner. But even if you analyze the fight, it doesn’t mean everything will go as planned.”

Suddenly the other boy jumped at Kakuzu while curling into a spikey ball. “What’s going on?”, he asked when he leaped out of the cloud of dust, landing next to the shadow boy.

The latter furrowed his eyebrows. “I knew it. It’s just as Raidou said. It might be a jutsu for hardening his body. That’s his power...”

“Nice analysis... That’s right. No physical attack will work on me.”

In the meanwhile, it seemed Hidan had regained his confidence, judging by his manically laughter. “Be afraid, you atheist jerks! Kakuzu, break this jutsu already!”

But neither of them saw what we saw. Still hiding behind one of the rotten trees, Kakashi had charged an attack, his hand covered in a lightning. This was bad. From one millisecond to the next his attack had pierced through Kakuzu’s chest from behind.

His face was distorted from the shock. “It can’t be... You snuck up behind me... without me sensing you...”

“Too bad... I saw the jutsu you use for hardening your body. Judging from how you formed your seal earlier, I’d say you’ve got an earth change in chakra nature.” That goddamn Sharingan...

Under Kakuzu’s mask I could make out a slight smirk. He enjoyed getting to fight such a strong and famous opponent. “I see! You’re... the Sharingan Kakashi.”

“Earth is weak against lightning...”, Kakashi continued without touching upon the other’s comment.

Kakuzu’s legs gave in and he fell to his knees. Violently Kakashi pulled out his arm from the body, causing it to fall over. The last one that had taken a heart from him had been Pain, when he had invited Kakuzu for a fight to recruit him for the Akatsuki.

Four. Kakuzu had four hearts left.

“You’re next...” Kakashi said to Hidan, charging his lightning attack again, but was quickly forced into a tree’s trunk by Kakuzu’s kick.

Hidan laughed. “Oh, boy. And here you acted all cool and said, ‘You’re finished’.”

I sighed. Kakuzu looked like he wanted to kick him into the trunk next to Kakashi, but he didn’t. Instead, he took of his cloak, revealing the four masks representing his hearts on his back and tendrils leaked out of the mask Kakashi had destroyed earlier. My fingers twitched at the urge to caress his scars and stitches, as the seams stretched under the pressure to release the hearts in separate creatures. His back got ripped apart when they broke free but got stitched up quickly by the tendrils.

“Hidan, stand down for a while. I’ll take care of this.”

Of course, Hidan didn’t listen and started attacking Kakashi. The clink of scythe meeting with a kunai echoed through the air, until one of the masks unleashed a strong wind on everyone around, shredding several dead tree trunks. The storm eased and the mask took a stand next to the other two behind Kakuzu, dust dancing around the four figures. He looked so good, I fell in love all over again.

Charging up a Lightning Style: False Darkness with his other heart, he intended to attack the two boys standing right across from him. They were too slow to dodge or counter the attack and it looked like he would hit them, but in the last second Kakashi appeared before them and parried it. His chest heaved up and down in exhaustion, fighting off the attack hadn’t been easy for him. One person using so high-level techniques of so many different chakra natures had caught him off guard and the shock only intensified, when the third mask send a wall of fire towards them, reducing the trees to ashes in the process.

Hidan used the moment of distraction to attack the jonin again. The latter dodged and parried his scythe, causing their weapons to clash again. They crossed paths at the top of a tree, before landing on the ground across from each other.

“It was the same when he broke my Shadow Possession Shuriken jutsu. If you include his real body, each monster that came out of his body has a heart, and they are all his.” The black-haired boy noticed.

“Then that means we have to crush his other four hearts in order to take him out completely?”, the girl concluded.

Kakashi watched the duo through furrowed eyebrows. “By connecting his chakra network to the others’ heart, he incorporates their chakra natures as well, huh? No wonder he’s able to use several different natures.”

Sasori clicked his tongue. “Looks like they have figured Kakuzu out. It’ll remain interesting.”

I threw him a glance. “Do you think they might lose?” The sudden possibility of Kakuzu actually dying made my heart tighten. Just minutes ago, I had wanted him here with me so badly, but now that it might happen, I just wanted him to live. My gaze shifted back to the depiction in front of us, where Kakuzu just blocked the long-haired boy’s enlarged fist with one hand. His muscles flexed under his skin and I remembered the feeling of them wrapped around me, protecting me from everything.

“The Nara boy is clever, it seems like he can think of strategies and determine which one’s the best in seconds and his skills at manipulating shadows is remarkable.”, Sasori explained. “The girl’s from the Yamanaka clan, they specialize in mind-related techniques. From what I heard they can take over control of someone’s mind when they successfully target you with their jutsu. And the other guy”, he pointed towards the brown-haired boy, “is from the Akimichi clan. They may not look like it, but their brute strength is not to be underestimated. Especially not paired with their Multi-Size technique.”

I bit my lip. “And Kakashi Hatake. He’s definitely the hardest one to defeat out of these four.” A moment of silence passed. “Sitting here, unable to do anything is killing me. But it’s their fight and we can't do anything.”

The tumult was getting intense. I couldn’t follow anyone’s movements. Fire, wind and lightning techniques got thrown around, kunais flew left and right and dust was everywhere. But Hidan and the Nara boy were nowhere to be seen. They seemed to have taken off somewhere.

The other boy and the girl stood still, while Kakuzu managed to get a hold of Kakashi with his tendrils. He slammed him on the ground, sitting on top of him with more of his tendrils ready to rip out the desired heart.

Nothing seemed to have happened, but suddenly his face twisted in pain again. Just like a few minutes ago. Just like when Kakashi had destroyed the first mask. His hand gripped his chest, cramping tightly. No. This couldn’t be. How? He fell flat on his stomach.

Three. Kakuzu had three hearts left.

“Hidan’s curse.”, Sasori said with a snap of his fingers. “They managed to slip Hidan Kakuzu’s blood and when Hidan started his ritual, he cursed Kakuzu and stabbed him instead of one of his opponents.” He nodded, clearly impressed. “That strategy is amazing.”

The lightning mask shattered as the remaining hearts returned to Kakuzu’s body. He got up, tendrils emerging from all the sutures on his arms, his whole back and even his mouth. This was the worst situation he had ever been. Since first capturing hearts, he had gotten down to three hearts only once. At the time he had fought Pain, he had not lost one but two hearts.

His tendrils wrapped around his three opponents. “Kakashi Hatake...” The two remaining masks appeared between the tendrils. “Die!” And the masks released a fire and a wind technique respectively.

“Wind Style: Rasengan!”

“Water Style: Ripping Torrent!”

It was almost impossible to see through the fog, caused by the chakra nature techniques, but the blonde hair was unmistakable. “Sorry... we’re late.”

When the mist thinned out, Kakuzu was faced with four new enemies. This didn’t look good at all. I knew he was strong, but seven to one were awful odds.

“More strange people...” The comment made me chuckle. He was a grumpy old man, but sometimes there was his small sense of humor – even though it mainly consisted of mocking other people. “And he is pretty messed up already...”

Two of the new arrived shinobi were sent after Hidan and the Nara boy, but Kakuzu’s situation was still worrying.

“This is bad.” Yahiko bit on his thumb in tension. “The blonde boy is the Kyuubi’s jinchuriki, right?”

Sasori nodded. “He is. And he’s quite strong. He’s a hothead, he doesn’t think about strategies and he’s bad a listening to his sensei or any command, but he’s powerful and his amount of chakra is unbelievable. He was with Kakashi when he fought Deidara and he seems to have improved his skills since then.” He chuckled. “Even if he still uses the same or similar jutsus. He always uses Shadow Clones and the Rasengan, but admittedly the Rasen Shuriken is a new one.”

Kakuzu fought off the three clones and was about to get hit by the Rasen Shuriken, but it evaporated only inches away from his chest. Using the moment of irritation, he sent his arms and tendrils towards the jinchuriki, grabbing the boy. But the adult shinobi were quick to react. Kakashi cut the tendrils with his Lightning Style, while the other sent a wooden bar in Kakuzu’s direction. The first one hit through the threads but he dodged the next ones following.

Next to me, Yahiko gasped. “Wood Style? I thought only the Shodai Hokage was able to use it? Is he a descendant who inherited this Kekkei Genkai of Hashirama Senju?”

Sasori shook his head, confusion also written on his features. “I don’t think so, the only living member of the Senju clan is his granddaughter Tsunade as far as I know.”

“But what is it then?”, I asked, but either of them had an answer.

The jinchuriki charged another of his Rasen Shuriken. Kakuzu smirked, too focused on attacking the figure he took for the original. Hundreds of his threads bore through the body lying on the ground until it suddenly disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Before he knew it, the Rasen Shuriken hit him in the back, sending him flying and what looked like thousands of little needles through his limbs.

Two. Kakuzu had two hearts left.

Everyone was shocked. Nobody had expected the young jinchuriki to launch such an attack. Twice even. The attack had been more powerful than everything the others had launched at him. Not even Kakashi had been able to pull something similar off.

“Wow.”, Sasori breathed out. “This is impressive. He has improved a lot, since the time I met him. He will do great in the future, more so, if he works on his impulsiveness and listening skills. Maybe he can save the shinobi system. Maybe he can change the world.”

Yahiko closed his mouth, before speaking. “He’s powerful. Not only because of the Kyuubi. The Tailed Beast can provide him with more chakra but the skills are his alone.”

Sasori nodded. “If he ever manages to control the Kyuubi, he’s going to be almost unstoppable.”

I listened to their conversation with half an ear, I was too focused on Kakuzu. His body fell into the caldera the Rasen Shuriken had caused. Numb and lifeless. No. A bitter foreshadowing hit me. And I didn’t have to look to know it was true. I gave up trying to see the scene in front of me through my blurry vision and started full-on sobbing. An arm was draped over my shoulder and its hand squeezed my shoulder. It was a miserable try of comforting.

One. Kakuzu had one heart left.

“Kakuzu!”, a hysterical voice sounded through the air. It took me a second to realize I had been the one screaming. Tears streamed down my face and my hands clawed into the hard stone under my fingers. This couldn’t be true. He was immortal. There was no way he lost four of his hearts in the span of minutes. “Kakuzu!” My heart shattered as if it was one of his masks.

His body didn’t move. Strands of hair had fallen into his face and I wanted to be with him, brush them out of his face and telling him everything would be fine. I wanted to be with him so badly. He was dying in front of me. The love of my life was killed right before my eyes, while I could do nothing. Kakashi stood next to his head, another Lightning Style charged to finish him.

“Don’t look!” Yahiko pulled my face into his chest, protecting me from the sight. His arms wrapped around me, one hand firmly on the back of my head, holding me in place, and the other on my back, providing me with warmth.

“One after another, a new generation will succeed us.”

I only heard the crackling, when Kakashi destroyed his last heart.

Zero. Kakuzu had lost every single heart.

Tagged: @wing-ed-thing

[uchiharomance]

Oh, hello, can I have a headcanon on a blind Akatsuki member reader?

The reader is blind, but can see people's chakra just as faintly visible silhouettes, she is serviceable on tasks and missions, mostly relying on other senses in the form of touch, smell, hearing, and the like.

There were no problems with it, no questions asked, no one guessed.

But then everyone realizes this when she accidentally grabs the wrong Akatsuki member, calling him by a foreign name and blindly looking away

akatsuki: blind reader

Another day, another mission. 

You trailed along behind Kisame, his mass of chakra a swirl of blue before you as you carefully stepped up over the hideout’s doorway and into the main hallway.

“What a waste of time, yeah?” Deidara mumbled somewhere off to your right. “I hardly got a hit in during that fight.”

“You’re just jealous because Y/N handled them all in one swipe.”

You found yourself grinning at the compliment although truth be told the battle had been child’s play. Even without your abilities, the stench of the ninja alone had been enough to pick out their hiding place.

Kisame’s chakra flickered as he moved further from you, passing two more figures as he headed for the meager food store in the back. A short gruff told you that the nearest was probably Kakuzu, and you headed in his direction, your hand fiddling to find the tear in your cloak.

“Kakuzu,” you began as the distinct glow of Pein filled shone out of the corner of your eye and you turned your head to face your leader, “can I get you to repair this?”

For a moment there was no answer and you let your fingers trail down the arm you were holding onto a very smooth hand.

“Do I look like Kakuzu to you?” came Hidan’s scoffing voice.

Though you couldn’t see their eyes, you immediately felt the stare of everyone in the room. Hesitantly you let lose of Hidan’s hand and reached for the other blur of chakra, finding little relief when you felt the telltale threads of his wrist.

“Hey, are you listening to me? I said - “ “Y/N,” Itachi cut through Hidan’s question, voice firm but as kind as ever. “Is something wrong? Are you having trouble?”

Though he had not mentioned the word, the true ending of his question seemed to hang heavy upon the air.

“Ah,” you began, fidgeting just a bit under the pressure. “I was wondering when it would come out. The truth is, I can’t see at all.”

Another moment of silence passed, with not even Hidan filling in the space and then an unlikely sound emerged from somewhere in the corner.

“Really?” said Zetsu, curiosity in his voice. “From watching you fight, I never would guessed.”

“How do you fight?” injected Deidara.

A chorus of questioning noises came from the other members of the group and you blushed as their silhouettes gathered closer around you.

“I rely on my other senses,” you admitted. “Truthfully, you all look like clouds of chakra to me, just human shaped.”

“You don’t even know what we look like?” wailed Hidan, as though the thought had morally offended him.

You shrugged, focusing again on Pein’s intense chakra. The man had yet to say anything on the subject and you found yourself a little worried of the consequences of having, more or less, lied.

As though reading your mind, the answer came almost immediately.

“It does not matter,” Pein said, moving pass you, a flicker of chakra the only indication that he had turned to look at you. “She is your comrade, and you will all give her the respect she and her talents deserve.”

His outline stopped at the door.

“Besides,” he mumbled, “she is still a more talented shinobi than some of you here will ever be.”

[ladykissingfish]

Halloween with the Akatsuki

Konan

Dress-up isn’t really for her, and neither is going out to join in any festivities. She prefers to go the homemade treats and scary movie route, staying either by herself or with her fellow Akatsuki members who think the same way. She’s the one who will decorate the house (often with Tobi’s help) with orange and purple lights, hanging ghosts and witches, and an entirely too-real-looking scarecrow. Might decide to wear some spooky-printed pajamas and/or a matching robe. Also makes herself of use to anyone who’s dressing up and needs help applying face paint or makeup. She also stays up the latest to ensure that those who do go out make it home safe and sound, although she doesn’t tell anyone that this is why she’s still awake.

Deidara and Hidan:

Normally these two don’t get along (to put it mildly) and avoid each other like the plague. However, on Halloween, it’s a different story. These two are the youngest in the Akatsuki and therefore much more into the “holiday spirit” than the others. They’ll help each other with costumes (Hidan figures that his normal getup/ritual black and white paint is scary enough, and Deidara will dress as a literal “bang”; bright, flashy clothing ((definitely with a cape)) with small handmade explosives set to go off at regular intervals). Deidara will likely be made to take Tobi trick or treating during the early hours of the evening, and Hidan will tag along; not because he likes candy but because he figures the sugar will give him a needed boost of energy for the rest of the evening. Once Deidara finishes with Tobi, he and Hidan will set out for some greater fun. Haunted houses are their favorite; they can separate themselves from the crowd and hide within the exhibits, to scare the bejesus out of everyone else. Deidara can throw as many bombs as he wants ((and at point-blank range)), and Hidan can lure countless unsuspecting sacrifices people into the darkness; and the best part of it? Everyone thinks it’s just part of the show. It’s only when the others realize that the “fake blood” and “fake dead bodies” aren’t so fake that they decide to dip out. Likely to end the night sneaking Kakuzu’s sake from his room, getting completely shit-faced, eating ALL of Tobi’s candy (which he’ll cry about to no end in the morning), then passing out face-down on the floor. Will have to be dragged to their own rooms by Sasori and Kakuzu, and in the morning Kakuzu will be as loud as humanly possible to punish the two hungover idiots for stealing his alcohol.

Tobi

A holiday whose sole purpose is to get as much free candy as possible? Sign. Him. The FUCK. Up. He doesn’t really bother with much of a costume (after all he’s already wearing a mask that greatly resembles a lollipop) but might adorn it with a set of cat ears and tail. He’ll beg his senpai to take him trick or treating (which will be refused at first because “You’re a grown man for fuck’s sake, hm!”, but then Pein and Konan will use some “gentle persuasion” on the blonde until Tobi’s wish is granted). He’s thorough with it; he’s had Zetsu infiltrate houses for weeks beforehand to find out who has what candy, so he knows the best route to take. When he’s done (or rather when Deidara’s patience has run out) he’ll go back to the hideout and start eating his hard-earned treats. But not too much; because Konan is also making pumpkin and ghost shaped cookies and green-dyed hot chocolate. Will end the night watching scary movies (during which he’ll hide behind a pillow) with Konan and Kakuzu (Kakuzu insists the movies are boring but for some reason he has yet to leave the room). Sometimes accidentally slips into Obito voice when talking about how much he “gets” Michael Myers. 9/10 will fall asleep and be covered with a blanket to stay on the couch. Also 9/10 will wake up to find his candy gone because of senpai and the jerk Hidan, and will sob about it until Deidara caves and goes out and buys him several bagfuls of (now conveniently discounted) Halloween candy.

Kakuzu

Likes to answer the door for trick or treaters, but instead of candy he’ll give out what he feels is “more helpful”. Like, pamphlets on how to start a 401k, or advice on what stocks are a good investment, or tips how to save the most when shopping at the grocery store. Most children are unappreciative of the old grouch’s “treats”, however, and the Akatsuki house always ends up heavily egged and TP’d. But hey ... that means free eggs ((the ones that aren’t too damaged, anyway)) and free toilet paper: win-win. When not answering the door, he joins some of the others in their “scary” movie fest. Not because he thinks the flicks are in anyway scary ((to him they seem more like comedies)) but he likes to analyze the actions of the main characters to see how and where they went wrong; good practice for future missions.

Pein

Thinks the “holiday” is utterly pointless, but gives his blessing for the others to indulge in in however they see fit.

Zetsu

This is the night of the year that Zetsu brings in the most revenue to the Akatsuki. He scopes out what places are having costume contests with cash prizes, and he enters, and literally always wins first place. Nobody can figure out how he “made” a costume so wonderfully realistic, with the unique dual skin-tone and the lush foliage. This is also a good time for him to indulge in sweet treats ... and NOT the candy kind. Lots of dumb teenagers like to wander out to the woods and have Halloween parties; their exuberance and intoxication lets them see Zetsu as just another guy with an awesome get-up. Getting one or two or ten of them away from the group is child’s play, and devouring them? Easier than taking candy from a Tobi. Sometimes will take a severed hand or foot and enter ANOTHER contest as a carnivorous Venus fly trap.

Itachi and Kisame

Neither of these two like to go out, so they spend time at the house together. Kisame goes out the day before and raids a pumpkin patch, and the two spend a good part of Halloween evening expressing their “artistic” sides on different jack-o-lanterns ((which will be mercilessly criticized by Deidara)). Kisame’s masterpiece is Samehada at his strongest and Itachi’s is the portrait of who he SAYS is himself as a younger man ((but is clearly that little brother of his)). Kisame is not a fan of candy, but Itachi is, so Tobi will bring him a large handful of his own to share. They will abandon their customary tea and biscuits for warm apple cider and whatever confectionary delight Konan is making. Might also join the others for scary movies at some point. Most Halloween’s end up with Deidara and Hidan coming back to the house very late, drinking too much, and falling asleep. This might be the ONLY time Itachi ever initiates an act of aggression against them, as he takes advantage of their out-of-it states to put each of their hands in a cup of warm water ((a trick he learned from Hidan himself)) and letting nature (and overfilled bladders) take its course. Kisame sees him doing this and laughs himself sick; it always amuses him when he sees his partner drop his ultra-serious nature and let loose like a normal young person.

Sasori

It’s always been said of Halloween for sweet-consumers to be aware of what they’re eating, as many unscrupulous people out there can hide poison in the candy. Sasori is that person who parents warn their kids about. However, Sasori doesn’t direct his malice towards children; rather, adults. He concocts a variety of poisons, sleeping agents and other horrors, laces candy or apples with it, and has his secret subordinates in other villages pass them out to pre-selected individuals ((usually people that the redhead has some sort of grudge against)). Sasori keeps careful track of his lab rats by sending small, drone-like puppets out to observe them, and record their reactions from time of consumption to whatever end comes for them. This research greatly helps him in terms of future poison preparations. If particularly bored, he’ll dress up some of his larger puppets in terrifying attire, and send them out in the darkness to stalk and frighten the life out of young trick-or-treaters. He’s likely to join some of the others who watch movies, or, if he’s in time to catch Deidara after the blonde passes out from his night of fun, he’ll take a marker and write “Art is Eternal” across his face ... in multiple languages.