#navi uchiha

[randomhatthief]

She has so much fun being a sidekick <3

I found the pose on pinterest, and it's clearly from a set of other poses but I cannot for the life of me track down a source outside of pinterest. PLEASE lemme know if you know who I should really be sourcing: X

[opens-up-4-nobody]

My half of an art trade with @narusasuart :-]

[gyroshrike]

There is one, ONE (1), Lee/Sasuke/Sakura poly fic on ao3 (technically 3, but one is in another language and one was discontinued after 1 chapter) and it's the only thing holding the fabric of my universe together. HOW is this ship so nonexistent I NEED it I need it so bad hnnnnggghhhh I am going to wither away into dust

[sixtymillionoverdueideas]

‘Don’t you dare touch them!’ Kyosuke for Sasuke //twinuchiha

Sasuke whirled around, twin kunai at the ready,,,. “Don’t touch him either!!” The Uchiha jinchuurinki snapped, an edge of wildness making his voice a touch deeper -- they were surrounded, in a bubble away from either of their genin-groups and their jounins by Iwa-nin. He itched to... do something,, anything, whisker-marks distorted on his cheeks as a slight snarl curled his lips. 

Be careful, Kurama rumbled as the presence of the Kyuubi pressed closer to the forefront of his mind. Usuratonkachi.

[eskumii]

soft yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha x reader hcs

TITLE: " BAD ROMANCE " — navi. — read part two.

A/N: i'm clearing out my drafts ,, was in a huge naruto phase when i started this blog!

☆ genin sasuke is pretty mean. he doesn't notice you for your looks, personality, or even your prowess as a young kunoichi. you're just... you. in which, you don't cling to him like sakura does, and you aren't delusional like ino is. you're just okay at first, and there's not much he can go off of when he never really interacts with you. it's nothing personal, really.

☆ although sasuke is typically not a stranger to the prospect of romance, the reason why he doesn't indulge is simply because he fails to understand what romance is. if sasuke is anything, he's aware; of his surroundings, the people in it, and the turmoil that churns inside of him. the more he loves, the more he'll eventually hate, so he gathers that there's no room for it in his life. it's his curse to bear.

☆ genin sasuke would eventually notice you after being placed on team seven together, of course. you're pretty hard to ignore from thereon. in between the bouts of sakura clobbering him and naruto screaming in his face, his eyes are on you. both naruto and sakura wear the extent of their capabilities on their sleeves, but you're hard to read and that intrigues sasuke.

☆ it's not until much later that sasuke notices his feelings for you are much different than before. after all the trouble you've been through together (near death experiences & the dreadful antics of naruto), he feels like he's finally got a foothold on what it is that makes you so interesting. he's not a moron—yes, it would appear that he does like you beyond the "like" that he holds for the rest of team seven. however, it's such a foreign feeling that he's not even sure how to handle it, being that he's never had to deal with it before. does he tell you? does he not? would you even feel the same?

☆ in the end, sasuke shows his fondness for you in more subtle ways. it's not really his style to outright confess. sometimes he'll ask you to spar with him (alone, which he stresses), or he'll happen to have a "spare" tomato (or onigiri, if you don't like tomatoes) on him when you complain about being hungry during missions. if you get ambushed by rogue ninja on a mission, he'll instinctively step in front of you, or if you're out of kunai he'll lend you a couple of his—things like that. he's quite thoughtful when he wants to be.

☆ even under sasuke's merciful tolerance of you, you're not off-limits when it comes to his biting insults and sarcastic comments. normally he doesn't speak much but with you he becomes rather talkative, if you can even call it that. when someone else tries to butt in, sasuke's brooding and murderous glares scare them away. they should really know better than to talk to you when he's around.

☆ sakura obviously hates that you've suddenly become the apple of sasuke's eye when she's been vying after him since their early days at the academy. you're not even that pretty, honestly. but any attempt to sabotage you or make you look like a fool in front of sasuke is thwarted... by sasuke. he always thought of sakura like a whining gnat in his ear so it's amusing to see her cry when he blatantly ignores her for messing with you.

☆ when sasuke leaves the village, you're the first person he visits beforehand. you're asleep but that's just fine; actually, it's perfect because you don't see how he gently caresses your hair and how he gives you a kiss on your forehead. you don't hear him when he finally admits that he likes you. loves you, even. you don't hear him when he says he wishes he could take you with him.

☆ but don't worry, he'll be back for you...

[beatriceportinari]

Another year, another outfit to die in! Happy birthday again Izuna!!!!!!

Like last year, I played with someone else's lines for these charming patterns, thank you so much Lena @elhnrt ! I had a ton of fun :D

Check the readmore for pattern references and explanations, there are some easter eggs in there :)

(x,x,x,x)

My goal for this piece, in addition to playing with patterns and textures and adding some Naruto references, was to add as many death flags as possible.

The idea of having Izuna in a fireman's coat is obviously not from me. I've always like the idea of Uchihas in fire resistant clothes, and the opportunity for a thick texture alongside a reversible double pattern is very appealing. I used the image of the second reference as a base, with skulls on one side and stylized lightning patterns on the other (visible inside the sleeves and collar). Both were common immagery of firemen coats.

The actual skull pattern is taken from the third reference. I'd seen this one before and before even learning anything abt it it was too beautiful to pass up. Those white and navy gradients are absolutely delightful and I enjoyed using my gel pens for them very much.... This particular type of imagery with skulls and bones in a field is called Nozarashi, inspired by Buddhist representation of death and transience.

The lightning pattern itself is a reference to water and lightning dragons :) Like Tobirama's iconic jutsu, it's one of the hints of what's abt to happen to our little guy. The scabbard is also decorated with dragon motifs for the same reason.

The background pattern is taken from the first reference, another fireman's coat with an illustration of Raijin, the thunder god. He is often representated with drums decorated with tomoes. It works nicely as a standard looking sharingan illustration, with a reference to Tobirama's hiraishingiris with the thunder imagery, like the thunder patterns inside the coat.

If you're interested in this I recommend the book linked in the second reference! It is entirely about skeleton motifs in japanese clothing of the early 20th century.

[vulpisnocturna]

Itachi x reader where she's Sasuke's best friend but Itachi and Yn likes each other and Sasuke also likes yn. It's kind of like a love triangle

Y/n is living the life once again. I might have taken it a step too far, but what can I say, it is what Y/n wanted so badly lmao

Warnings: no-massacre au, y/n is one lucky gal, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, dom Itachi, Itachi cockblocks Sasuke AND takes his crush

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You’d been friends with Sasuke for many years. You two had grown together, gone on missions together, shared meals and fights and loss together. He was your best friend, the person that knew you as well as you did, the person you knew would always be there to support you. 

And yet, things had gotten complicated about a year prior. Sasuke had started acting weirdly, being more distant. Whenever you went to his house, he’d lash out at his brother and then he would be really jealous. Sasuke didn’t know you had had a crush on Itachi for the longest time, but it made you uncomfortable anyway. He was twenty-six, six years older than you and Sasuke, and he was to die for. Where Sasuke was pretty, Itachi was breathtaking. And even though Sasuke could be cool sometimes, Itachi had an enigmatic air about him that made shivers run down your spine every time you saw him. And the little smirks he gave you sometimes, as if he knew what was going on in your mind… it was too much. 

That day, you and Sasuke had planned to see each other. You had trained for a few hours together, and because it was late and you were already at the Uchiha training grounds, he offered to let you stay the night at his. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, and he had said his parents were on a mission anyway. You asked about Itachi, and Sasuke begrudgingly admitted he would be home, though his expression grew cold straightaway. You regretted even bringing Itachi up. But every time you’d slept at Sasuke’s house, Itachi seemed to appear out of nowhere, brushing past you in the corridor and trapping you against the counter as he leaned to get something from the cupboard. If you didn’t know he loved Sasuke so much, you’d think he was doing it on purpose, just to show that he could. And you were ashamed to admit how worked up you got every time he did it.

‘It’s okay, little one. Just getting some tea’ he would say, though his eyes would gleam with wicked shrewdness. 

You groaned softly, staring at Sasuke, who was glaring at thin air.

‘Come on, Sasuke. Let’s go’ you said, smiling slightly at him. He hesitantly smiled back, heading towards the street. 

‘I- I’ll make dinner’ he said, fidgeting with his haori. You smiled, elbowing him in the side playfully.

‘You know you can’t cook, Sasuke. Just let Itachi handle it, okay? We can relax in the meantime’ you said. Sasuke’s eyes narrowed slightly.

‘Relax?’ he repeated, scanning your face. You nodded.

‘You know, I’ll be able to take a shower, and we can talk and stuff’ you said, smiling. Sasuke nodded absentmindedly.

When you two got to his house, Itachi was already in the kitchen, cooking some food. It smelled amazing, and your mouth watered.

‘Are you with someone, Sasuke?’ he asked from the kitchen, and Sasuke groaned, kicking off his shoes. 

‘Just my friend’ the way his tone dropped around the “my” part unnerved you. Itachi, however, did not seem bothered. As you walked by the kitchen, he turned around, eyeing you lazily.

‘Welcome back. As Sasuke’s friend, please, stay for supper’ he said, and somehow, the way he said Sasuke’s was mocking, taunting. You swallowed, eyeing him. He was as beautiful as ever, wearing a plain navy blue t-shirt and comfortable black trousers. You averted your eyes, only to bump into Sasuke, who put an arm around your shoulders.

‘We are going to my room’ he said, his jaw tight. Itachi smiled slightly.

‘Of course. It’s going to be ready in about ten minutes. Please, feel free to have a shower if you want. Don’t take too long though’ he said, the epitome of politeness, and yet, there was something more to his tone. Some kind of wicked taunt. 

‘I’d like a shower. Thank you, Itachi’ you said, offering a small smile to Sasuke as you went off towards the bathroom. 

You barely managed to dry your hair after your shower when Itachi called you both to dinner. It was awkward, sitting down with the both of them. Itachi asked you about missions and made conversation in that easy way he always had about him, and Sasuke kept sulking, stabbing his food with his chopsticks.

‘Sasuke, are you ready for the mission tomorrow?’ Itachi asked, smiling at his brother. Sasuke lifted his eyes, nodding.

‘Yeah. It’s nothing much’ he only said, glancing at you. 

‘Sasuke has gotten a lot better, don’t you think, Itachi?’ you said, trying to lift the general mood. Sasuke looked at you, his lips slightly parted, and Itachi smiled.

‘You have, Sasuke. You are a very capable shinobi’ he said genuinely. Sasuke sucked in his lips, looking conflicted.

Itachi left you both to talk in Sasuke’s room as he washed the dishes, and Sasuke seemed cross.

‘What’s up?’

‘What’s up? What’s up is that you like him! You like my brother’ he said, his eyes hard. You swallowed, your heart thumping in your chest as you looked away. 

‘That’s- not true’ you stuttered, your cheeks warm.

‘Yeah, right’ he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Your brow furrowed, your own gaze hardening.

‘And what is it to you anyway?’ you crossed your arms, standing up. Sasuke gritted his teeth.

‘Like I care- you could just be less obvious’ he spat. For a moment, his tone made you think he might be snapping out of being hurt, but his words got the better of you, making you angry.

‘Goodnight, Sasuke. Guess I’ll see you in the morning’ you spat back, walking out and closing the door behind you. Part of you wanted him to stop you, the other part just wanted to be left alone. Why wasn’t being best friends enough? Why was he so pissed off that maybe you had a little crush on Itachi? Everyone did. You weren’t the first, and you would not be the last one. 

You went to the guest room, closing the door and sitting cross-legged on the bed. For a while, you just sulked, brooding over Sasuke’s words and getting angrier and angrier. 

After an hour, though, you decided to go and get a cup of tea. Maybe it would calm you down. You couldn’t believe he would say that to you, with Itachi in the house nonetheless. Did he want to humiliate you? Was that it?

‘Careful, little one’ 

You startled, looking up just before you bumped into Itachi in the kitchen. The light was off, but the moonlight offered some light. You could make out most of his features, but you’d been so lost in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed him. 

‘Trouble in paradise, mh?’ he asked, dipping his head to look you in the eye. You swallowed, looking up at him. Had he heard? Your stomach was in a knot.

‘What’s this I hear? You like me, little one?’ he murmured against your ear, hot breath fanning your cheek. Your heart was hammering in your throat, and you shifted on your feet.

‘He was just- being a dick’ you managed to let out, and Itachi clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

‘It’s a pity Sasuke likes you so much. I almost feel guilty about doing this’ he said before he cupped your face, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed you. Your brain shut off completely, your knees weak as your stomach dropped. It didn’t take you long to melt in his arms, and you kissed him back, flinging your arms around his neck, touching his hair, which felt even softer than you could have imagined. 

He nipped at your bottom lip, drawing a whimper from you, only to lick it, soothing it with his tongue. You parted your lips for him, and his hands roamed your body, gripping the small of your back and pulling you against him.

‘Or maybe I don’t. You taste too sweet to give up on making you mine’ he said, one of his hands settling on your ass. You blushed, biting your lower lip, tasting mint toothpaste and something entirely his that made you want to go beyond just kissing.

‘You could sleep with me, little one’ he said, turning you around and starting to kiss your neck, making you stifle a moan when he sucked on the curve of your shoulder, just underneath your t-shirt.

‘I’ve wanted to do this for the longest time’ he said, lifting your t-shirt to splay his hands and slender fingers on your stomach. 

‘Itachi- I want you’ you said, drunk on his touch. It was much better than what you had imagined as you touched yourself. So maddening. 

‘Let me give you a little taste of what I’m going to do to you’ he said, drawing you  more in the shadows, your back against his torso as his hand cupped you between your legs. You moaned in a low voice, rolling your hips against him, gasping softly when you felt his erection against your ass.

He snaked a hand under your  trousers and underwear, his middle finger drawing circles  on your clit, making you whine for him.

‘You are so wet for me, little one. And so tight’ he said as he slipped two fingers inside you and scissored them, making you grip onto him.

His palm rubbed your clit, and his fingers curled inside you. You were finding it almost impossible to keep your moans low enough, but when you heard Sasuke’s bedroom door open, you startled, your eyes wide. Itachi did not let you go, though. He pulled you more into the shadows of the kitchen, covering your mouth with his hand and speeding up his ministrations.

‘Shh, little one. Wouldn’t want Sasuke to hear what you sound like when you cum. I want to keep that all to myself’ he breathed in your ear, his talented fingers pressing again and again against your g-spot, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm. The bathroom door closed, judging by the distance of the sound, and Itachi pushed two fingers in your mouth. You sucked them desperately, rocking your hips against his fingers, the knot in your stomach increasing painfully to near torment. 

‘That’s my good girl. My little brother wouldn’t know how to get you this desperate’ he whispered against your neck, licking your throat. You clamped around his slender fingers, sucking his fingers more to muffle your moans. The bathroom door opened again, and Itachi chose that moment to make you cum. You saw white, your legs wobbling, but his strong arms held you still through it before he removed his fingers from you. You stared at him with hazy eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.

Sasuke’s door closed, and he smirked, picking you up effortlessly. You hooked your legs around his slim hips, clinging to his shoulders.

‘Come on, darling. I’m far from finished with you’

[damien-wolfram-art]

Breath

“I know it hurts, Tobirama, but can you please, Please try to drink?” Hashirama pleaded. On a bedroll before him, was the broken form of his last remaining younger brother. His thin pale lips were blue from struggling to draw breath.

It had been like this for over an hour. Hashirama’s strong limbs ached from the force of his chakra being channeled into his hands in his repeated attempts to heal the damage Tobirama had been dealt from inhaling fire in a recent battle with their clan’s greatest rivals, the Uchiha. He didn’t let the pain stop him though.

Pressing his knees into the hard wooden floor even more than before, Hashirama leaned over his brother and let his green glowing hands hover over his throat. The superficial burns there were mostly gone now, but Hashirama knew most of the problem was tucked away from his sight.

Minutes passed. He wiped a bead of sweat from his worry wrinkled brow with the long navy sleeve of his undershirt and exhausted, sat back on the balls of his feet once more. His deep-set brown eyes began to lose hope as his brother’s chest continued to toil away at the now laborious task that was normal breathing. “I understand. This must be very difficult for you, “he resigned but his sad gaze was met by a determined red glare. Up until recently, Tobirama was unresponsive when his elder brother spoke to him. It made Hashirama feel guilty to see that even in his run-down state, Tobirama felt it necessary to scold him. “Y-you’re right,” he ceded, “It isn’t like me to give up so easily. You are my little brother after all.”

With newly found confidence, Hashirama picked up a small cup full of a medicinal liquid. “In that case, I’m going to need you to drink this,” he demanded, bringing it to Tobirama’s cold lips. The frail white-haired man drank slowly, but even this pleased Hashirama.

As soon as he drank enough, Hashirama went back to work. His tired tan hands worked up their green glow once more and his long brown hair swayed with the motions of his body as he manipulated the liquid to heal the damage from the inside. Slowly, Tobirama’s breathing stabilized.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll never give up on you again. I promise to stay by your side. Will you forgive me?” Hashirama begged when his brother was finally in the clear.

“You idiot,” was all the answer he needed.

[lightweaving]

Can I uhhhhhh have Itachi/Ibiki or Kakashi/Itachi in “We’ll always toe that fine line but never actually, like, cross it, will we?” 🙏

Listen I love kakaita with a passion so obviously it had to be these two ❤️ I just have so many feelings about their senpai/kouhai dynamic and also the fact that they've both suffered so similarly and THEY CAN HEAL EACH OTHER'S EMOTIONAL WOUNDS OK

Wallflower

Length: 1.3k

Summary: Kakashi finds Itachi hiding out in the Uchiha library.

Regency AU, set after a war that's implied to be an analogue to the Napoleonic Wars

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Itachi willed whoever it was to walk past the library, to leave him be. But the stars were not in his favour on that day, for the sound paused before it continued, muffled by the carpet that covered the library.

"One would think," a teasing voice sounded, and Itachi felt himself perk up, "that I would be able to locate Lord Uchiha at the ball thrown by the Uchiha Family. And yet, here you sit, far from the festivities. Where I had planned to hide, in fact."

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Has my absence been noticed so quickly?"

Kakashi chuckled as he entered Itachi's field of vision. He cut a dashing figure as he always did, clothed in a navy blue waistcoat. As Itachi's eyes roved down his figure, a familiar warmth sparked to life within him. "You know it has, my lord. The noble Lord Uchiha, awarded a medal of valour for his daring deeds against Orochimaru? The devastatingly handsome heir to the Naka Dukedom, recently returned from the warfront? The debutantes are casting their eyes all about the ballroom to be the first to spot you. Oh, and your mother is looking for you as well."

Itachi sighed once more, and snapped his book shut. He should return to the ballroom. It was the height of rudeness for him to hide in the library at a party hosted by his own family, and yet…

"It just seems so trivial," he admitted quietly, casting his eyes out the window, watching the steady flow of carriages in and out of the Uchiha Manor grounds. "All the social niceties, pretending I have any interest at all in discussing the weather or the races. To watch them, you would never realise how close to ruination we came. We fought as hard as we did in order to preserve this way of life, and yet, I find myself wholly unable to enjoy it."

Kakashi nodded slowly. "I keep hearing Obito's voice," he admitted. "Nagging at me to ask the wallflowers to dance. I almost did. And then I thought of having my back to all those people."

Not much more needed to be said. Both men well knew the horrors of war. It was not a thing of glory as the poets painted it – it was a thing of fear, of wondering if the man you embraced in the morning would live to see another sunrise. Of praying you would still be able to eat, dress and wash without requiring assistance at the close of each day. Kakashi had been fortunate to have only lost an eye in the conflict. And Itachi? The stars had smiled upon him indeed, for all his scars were invisible ones.

"And so, you sought out this wallflower instead," Itachi said, attempting a moment of levity. That was how it had been between them. Kakashi, bereft at losing Obito, and Itachi, still aching from Shisui's death, had found comfort in each other's company. Taking turns to wallow in despondency, and taking turns to lift the other out of the morass of grief. Just being with each other had soothed the sting of the loss, and he had almost believed himself healed.

Thankfully, his remark worked, and Kakashi snorted. "Of course," he mused. "My Lord Uchiha is hiding because he is too shy to dance! The only way to rectify this would be with a dancing lesson."

Itachi felt his lips quirk upwards. Kakashi always had that effect on him. "If my Lord Hatake would be so kind," he murmured. His heart beat faster at the thought of having Kakashi in his arms once more. They had not touched since they had left the warfront.

Two men sharing a tent and even their bedrolls was not looked askance at when female companionship was lacking, but back in polite society? It was utterly unthinkable. It mattered little that his and Kakashi's touches had been entirely innocent ones – holding each other through nightmares, stroking each other's hair. Any hint of the intimacy they had shared would be enough to court scandal.

Kakashi's hand settled around Itachi's waist, scorching even through the layers of cloth that separated it from his skin. "My Lord, if the purpose of this lesson is to restore my confidence in dancing, should I not be the one to lead?" Itachi remarked, desperately attempting to reduce the tension that had manifested the instant they had touched.

"If it was a normal dancing lesson, then of course," Kakashi replied, eyes twinkling in that way which always lightened Itachi's heart. "But you are a wallflower, and so you must be coaxed. And of course, I am taller than you."

By a scant few centimetres, but it was not as if Itachi was keeping track.

They were entirely silent as they twirled around the room, with only the books to bear witness. And then Kakashi dipped Itachi low before lifting him back up, and both men paused. There was an electricity crackling between them that they were both unwilling to extinguish.

"In Icha Icha," Kakashi said finally, "this would be the moment when the two lovers would kiss."

Itachi could barely suppress his smile. Kakashi had carried that noxious orange book everywhere, even breaking it out during column formations to break the tension before they met the Oto forces in battle.

He lifted a hand to Kakashi's face, tracing its hard planes. Looking into the eye that, like Itachi's, had seen far too much.

"Are we lovers, then?" Itachi whispered.

"We could be."

They could be, if Itachi was willing to forsake his duty as the heir to the Naka Dukedom. They could be, if Kakashi was willing to cry off from his engagement with a wealthy heiress, one that had been arranged while Kakashi was still in the cradle. They could be, if they were willing to be condemned by the ton for their unnatural desires.

But could Itachi truly abdicate, casting all responsibility onto his younger brother's shoulders?

Kakashi must have read the conflict in his expression, for he tilted his head and smiled in that way which forced his eye closed. He had once confided to Itachi that he did it when his eye watered, to prevent a show of weakness. Even as he took a small step back, his hand tightened on Itachi's waist.

"We have always toed that fine line, but it appears that we will never cross it," Kakashi said. Anyone else would have thought he was utterly unruffled. But then, anyone else would not have soothed him through the nightmares he had experienced after Obito had taken a bullet meant for him; would not know that precise set of his shoulders which indicated he was a single step away from the complete annihilation of his dignity.

Itachi felt the breath leave his chest. Something told him that if he allowed Kakashi to walk away now, this would be the end of everything. Of late night conversations over a bottle of whiskey they weren't supposed to have, of verbal spars and practice sword fights which ended in one of them getting pinned beneath the other, sweaty and panting.

Of dances set to a funeral dirge which only they could hear.

"No," Itachi whispered. He swallowed, and forced himself to say it once more with greater emphasis, to ensure Kakashi heard his resolve. "No." He had lost Shisui, and had only survived the loss of the man he loved because Kakashi had been there to patch the hole Shisui had left behind.

If he lost Kakashi too, it would end him.

Seizing Kakashi's face in his hands, Itachi pressed his lips against Kakashi's.

The music crescendoed as their hands and lips explored each other, finally allowing themselves the release they had denied themselves for far too long.

They had given enough of themselves. Perhaps now, it was time to allow themselves to take instead.

[purpleajisai]

"Promise"

Chapter 2: Hatachi

> Chapter 1

Madara Monday!

Notes: This chapter is centred in the brotherhood dynamic of Madara (20 years old) and Izuna (17 years old). You may notice several references to being 20 years old (hatachi / 二十歳), which had been considered the age of maturity for centuries, both culturally and legally in Japan. Here you have two links on the subject if you’re interested: link 1 link 2

Hatachi

A cold breeze entered from the half-shut windows of a simple room, furnished by a desk and many shelves stacked to the top with documents. Two men were working together, opening the fancy seals of delicately crafted scrolls. Madara, who had just become an adult according to his clan’s custom, was scowling at the workload. Even more than usual. His eye bags were nearly the colour of his navy blue robe as it was clear he hadn’t been sleeping well for several days. As the sound of another seal being opened by his brother snapped him out of his choleric state of mind, he turned his head and read the message.

“If I get another damn marriage arrangement proposal from that daimyo once again, I will burn his lands to a crisp!”, he exclaimed as soon as he saw the title of the message. This particular daimyo had already sent him five requests. One for each daughter he had, trying to blindly guess what sort of woman Madara would like.

“Well, this guy is determined to get one of his daughters into this clan one way or another. Goodness, let’s hope I don’t have to deal with him once I’m 20!”, Izuna replied. The younger Uchiha shook his head and handed his brother a blank scroll for him to write a rejection letter once again.

“I will be blatant with him this time. I’ll make it clear that if I get another proposal from him, we will never provide services to his lands ever again.”

Madara submerged his brush on the suzuri, letting the black ink be soaked into the bristles and then he started writing with a frown. Izuna peeked at the contents of the reply and was quick to interrupt, slamming his palm onto the table.

“No, elder brother! Not like that! You can’t be so rude, he pays well for our services! Just say something like… um, you’re not looking for a wife? That you don’t want to rush it?”

“I’m done with this crap. You write the rejection letter and I’ll drink some of the tea before it gets cold.”

Izuna simply rolled his eyes and smiled a little. He knew that his brother was stressed and that it was best to let him relax before he got back to the many duties of a clan leader. After redacting a polite rejection letter explaining that Madara had too much on his plate to go and tie the knot, Izuna closed the scroll and closed it with a ribbon. Madara was finishing his mug of tea while gazing into the horizon through the window, so Izuna decided to snap him off of his trance by patting his shoulder.

“You should cheer up a bit, elder brother. Take the constant requests from many daimyo as a flattery or something. You think any sane, rich man would want his daughter to marry a bad catch? We’re a powerful clan, we have lands and prestige! I would safely bet a nice barrel of umeshu that the daimyo were counting the days until you turned 20 to start sending these.” 

Madara, now more present in the moment, put down his mug and sighed as soon as he glanced at the mountain of similar messages on the desk. Sure, he had a big ego but this wasn’t the way in which he wanted to be appreciated. He lowered his head and ran a hand through his pitch black hair before speaking in a rather quiet voice.

“If Father was here, I wouldn’t have to deal with all of this nonsense. Instead of writing the same rejection letter over and over again, I could actually have time to find a partner for life and read my books. I don’t think I’m doing a good job at this clan leader thing, Izuna.”

“Oh come on, you’re doing amazing! You’ve been the youngest leader this clan has ever seen and we’re seeing an improvement in many areas. When was the last time we had more than ten  trained doctors, hm? Or the last time we got over 30 customers?”, the younger man replied with a comforting voice to cheer the worn down leader while quickly skimming through another message. The mention of their father was a sensitive topic, as both men missed him dearly. 

“Being the youngest clan leader ever comes with a downside. I don’t remember the end of my teens and the start of my adulthood. It suddenly came to an end as soon as I swore in that ceremony and renounced part of my independence. Would Father be proud of the way I’m handling things? Maybe I’m too immature and selfish for this.”

“Of course he would be proud. Don’t you remember what he used to say every single time he took us to battle with him?”

“You’d have to narrow it down. He was always saying that you tied your sash the wrong way, hah!”, he joked. Izuna grinned slightly as his attempt to lighten the mood was working. Then, the younger brother cleared his throat and made his best imitation of their late father’s voice.

“This clan crest entails the great honour of a caste of mighty warriors. It is a symbol of strength and duty”. Madara laughed as Izuna made a small parody of their father. When they were boys, they’d dislike having their father constantly saying such things. But now it was a fond memory.

Madara didn’t reply to that, he simply pondered silently about what it meant to be… himself. The prodigy, the wielder of a mangekyou sharingan, the clan leader, the son, the older brother. That was until he spotted something from the corner of his peripheral vision just seconds later. What caught his eye was the sight of his beloved younger brother piling up all of the leftover messages from daimyo who were in a haste to get their daughters married. 

“Hey, what are you doing? Leaving those for later?”

“Um, technically I am. Or I am not.”

Izuna then held all the scrolls in both hands and channelled his chakra through his fingers, causing the paper to burst into flames and burn down into mere seconds. Madara was impressed, that was a dangerous move! 

“No! We have to reply or we could lose the good relationships with those lands! You were the one suggesting that we reply politely!”, he cried out, using his hands and another piece of paper to try and make the fire die down.

“We can’t keep wasting time! These people know that you’re not interested and yet keep sending requests! I am indeed an advocate for harmonious diplomacy but this is getting repetitive and useless! I’ve read through them all and it’s the exact same daimyo as always!”

Izuna exclaimed with a hint of anger while throwing the remains of the burnt paper to a bucket that served as a trash can and shaking the ash off his fingers. While Izuna was the one who always helped Madara avoid unnecessary problems caused by the shinobi’s sharp tongue and disdain for weaker ninja, he drew the line at wasting his time with menial tasks. That was the only case in which Izuna would allow himself to have a more aggressive approach.

Madara simply sighed and looked at the pile of ash in the trash can. That must have been at least 50 scrolls, all of which were marriage arrangement proposals. He couldn’t understand why so many adult men, most of which were well educated, would be so eager to have their daughters marry a complete stranger only because of his power and status. It made the idea of marriage become shallow, as if it were only a tool. There were a series of important doubts clouding his mind: would he ever find someone that saw beyond the outside? Someone who saw his heart below the many layers of duty? What people would call a “soulmate”?

After two long hours of working side by side, the brothers called it a day and began to classify the scrolls into the many shelves of the room. One shelf contained the scrolls to be sent with a messenger hawk in the morning, another one served as an archive for the clan’s accounting, a third one was a record of the daimyo who had requested their service as mercenaries and so on. Madara arched his eyebrows at the many service requests that Izuna had handled, then looking at the much smaller amount of accounting and negotiating he had done that was now piled in the shelves.

“You’re quite the productive man, eh?”

“Oh please elder brother, taking care of the requests is simply saying yes or no. You have to do maths, economics and those things. You’re the clan leader, you deal with the main stuff.”

“I wouldn’t have the time to do this if you didn’t help me with those boring service requests. Don’t put yourself down, Izuna.”

“Hm. May I ask something, elder brother?”

“Shoot.”

“Was any of those proposals from… Fuyumi~?”, he said in a mocking tone to his brother. Izuna knew that Madara was slowly catching feelings for that young woman. And in fact, he would be glad if the two ended up together. They were a good duo in the battlefield and knew each other even before they learned how to speak. But Izuna was still in his late teens, so he would never treat the subject seriously at this point. What kind of younger brother misses the chance to annoy his older brother?

Madara had somehow sensed that Izuna would find a way to involve his crush on Fuyumi. So instead of saying a comeback, he jokingly slapped his brother’s nape and laughed.

“Shut up, you little rascal! Finish that so we can go greet Father!”

“Haha! Fine, fine, I’m almost done. But you can’t deny that you wish one of those proposals was from Fuyumi~”

“Hmph! I said shut up!”

Izuna continued to make jabs at his brother until they finally finished stacking the scrolls in their respective places. When the two men in charge of running the Uchiha clan stepped out of the office towards the little graveyard beside the house, the position of the moon indicated it was midnight. Both of them sat down before a long tombstone and placed incense in front of it, perhaps even praying for the soul whose name was engraved in the rock. Izuna broke the silence and nudged Madara with his elbow.

“Elder brother…”

“What is it?”

“Don’t put yourself down. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure Father’s proud of you, wherever he may be now.”

Madara smiled softly at his brother and put an arm over his shoulder. Izuna had been much too young when they lost their father, so the least an older brother could do was comfort a hurt and grieving young man. A single tear rolled down the clan leader’s cheek as many thoughts filled his mind. He remembered his father, all of his advice and what he should do once he grew up. One particular piece of advice resonated within his memories.

“Find yourself a good woman just like I found your mother. Someone whom you will love, protect and cherish. And help your brother find one as well when the time comes, after you both turn 20. You two are meant to stick together and watch each other’s backs.”

Being 20 years old and a clan leader surely did entail a lot of responsibilities, but at least his little brother was proud of him.

[randomhatthief]

if none of his actual friends will comfort him, my other ocs will goddamn it

they all basically have the same trauma anyway

[seoulfulnights]

SOS Month 2024: Day 10 - Rivalry/Heartbreak

Ménage à trois

Pairing: Sakura x Sasori (sasosaku/sos)

Rating: G

Tags: AU – Detective noir, tragedy/comedy, cheating, lavender marriage, SNS served together in the navy that should say enough, sad with a happy ending

Summary:

Sasori frowned as he repeated the request, just to be sure he wasn’t hearing things wrong.

“So, you want me to convince your wife you’re cheating on her?”

He could practically feel the story—the web of lies, the stale love, the empty house with its silent rooms. Konoha’s shiny surface was all mirrors and illusions, but beneath it lay the kind of rot that Sasori lived to uncover. And he had a feeling this Uchiha couple’s little charade might just have enough skeletons in the closet to make it worth his while.

[sixtymillionoverdueideas]

🏩🍰💋 👶

How long does your muse usually wait before having sex with their partner? What is their view on sex and intimacy? What do your muse’s kisses normally taste like? Is your muse a good kisser? Would they consider themselves one? What are your muse’s top three baby names for each gender?

you did not specify so we'll take a random selection!!!

P13! Sasuke is a low-drive bisexual and would probably have to be approached for intimacy. Maybe 4-5 months on his own? His view on sex is that it’s not necessary to a good relationship.

Ferd’s kisses often taste like whatever he’s making in the kitchen, or of ice cream. Why? Because we think it’s funny :)))

Choishi Nara-Akimichi is a good kisser, ‘cause he does have experience. He’s one of the most “cool popular” ones of the Peace-Era rising-star next gen,,,. He thinks he’s decent, he learned some tricks now, why? You want a demonstration?

Ferd’s baby names: Rowan, Saoirse, Callisto for the girls. Aki, Tsukiya, William for the boys.

[shinnogi]

      we can never be gods, after all - but we can become something less than human with frightening ease [...] the knives that will slaughter heaven, our heads bloody but unbowed [...] for ours is a fate worse than death...

      𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 ( @gcldess ) ━ ❛  you look really pretty right now.  ❜ @ mikoto, she just wants to be nice to moms

      Gentle laughter escapes Mikoto's delicate lips, cheeks flushed as the girl's compliment made her feel warm inside. It was rare for Mikoto to dress up, or even attend public events but her husband had hinted that it would be important for her to do so. And thus she found herself dressed in her finest kimono - a navy blue fabric decorated with white lilies, highlighted by the champagne coloured haneri underneath, a black obi decorated with crescent moons tied with a red obijime. All completed by the Uchiha symbol embroidered in the back between her shoulder blades. Her face tastefully embellished by makeup she had applied while pouting and complaining to her poor husband.

      ❛  Thank you, Pucca-chan.  ❜ Mikoto smiled down at the young girl. ❛  Pucca-chan is also very pretty.  ❜ The Uchiha matriarch fought the urge to pinch the girl's cheeks, she hoped Pucca would stay in Konoha a little longer after the festivities, she would love to get to know her better. She was such an adorable girl.

      ❛  Are you having fun, sweetie?  ❜ Festivals were where the shinobi children could run wild and have the opportunity to be children for once, she was unsure if the young girl in front of her was a shinobi, but if not, she was simply a child. And Mikoto wished for her to enjoy herself during that peaceful day. ❛  My children have unfortunately abandoned me today, but if you'd like, I can show you the best spots for a snack.  ❜ 

[holly-natnicole]

If Team 7 were DigiDestineds (Part 3):

Uchiha Sasuke's Crests would be Courage (Virtue) and Wrath (Sin). His digivice is a medium violet D-Ark/D-Power (which lacks the card slot and) which has a navy blue rim (around the screen) & matching buttons & a likewise strap with the clip for attaching the digivice to things being medium violet. The digivice's dark grey square screen has 1 of Sasuke's Crests appear on it in medium violet whenever he connects with his Digimon partner emotionally in ways that link to the either of the 2 Crests. He has a

Puwamon nicknamed as Taka (Sasuke tried to go with Garuda then Aoda, but the birdie Fresh Digimon only answered to Taka). He's male. The duo quickly get along and so easily formed their spiritual connection & caused the digivice to appear, then their platonic friendship bit by bit becomes toxic as Sasuke gets manipulated by 1 of the villainous Main Characters during the 6 DigiDestineds' adventures, 'til the others' help causes him to improve as a perdon & break free from being used by the villain and Taka (who had crossed the line from loyalty to fanaticism) to become independent instead of always clinging to his human partner.

Whenever Sasuke & Taka connect in a way that represents 1 of Sasuke's 2 Crests, Taka digivolves. Either from his Puwamon form into

Poromon from which he then digivolves into

Hawkmon then

Aquilamon then

Garudamon (which Sasuke thinks is funny the 1st time it happens).

The culmination of their platonic bond lets them (with Taka in his Hawkmon form) matrix digivolve into

Susanoomon.

Sometimes Taka digivolves from his Hawkmon form into

Coatlmon/Quetzalmon then

Sandiramon.

(To be continued in Part 4...)

[erimeows]

Complications

Deidara hates Itachi Uchiha. He always has and he always will- or, that’s what he tells himself. He’s in tune with himself enough to know that, at times, he can be hot-headed or jump to conclusions without any real reason to do so, but when it comes to Itachi? Well, he has plenty of reasons, and they all make sense in his head.

It’s a cold December day. Some stupid bug has been going around and Deidara has been cursed with it. Itachi has been, too, it seems, but apparently the Uchiha has one thing or another wrong with his immune system that makes him more susceptible to the symptoms of illnesses. Everyone else is out on missions, leaving them both alone in one of the rooms in the base. He thinks it’s Itachi’s. Pein demanded that they quarantine there to keep everyone else from getting sick. He also demanded that, since Deidara only has a cough and a slight fever, he should be the one taking care of Itachi to minimize the risk of anyone else getting it.

Deidara hates the thought. He hates that he became free of the Stone Village and the control they tried to have over him only to be forced into the Akatsuki so he could be controlled there, too. 

Thankfully, he at least has one solace; his art. He sits on a wooden stool at Itachi’s desk, making statues out of his clay. He doesn’t dare blow them up with Itachi in the room, though. Whatever the older man has seems like it’s a respiratory ailment, and Deidara doesn’t want to make him breathe in the smoke from his explosions while he’s trying to recover.

Wait.

He shouldn’t care about that.

Deidara shakes his head. Maybe it’s just because he’s trying to follow Pein’s orders; take care of Itachi while he’s sick, quarantine, and don’t make it worse. He clears his itchy throat and looks around for something to distract him. He follows Itachi’s charcoal eyes to a framed photo that sits on his nightstand. There’s Itachi in it, though he looks a lot younger; fuller face, brighter eyes, a small smile, even. In front of him is a little boy with a similar face and navy hair. To his left is an older teenager with ash-hued hair and stress lines akin to the one Itachi has now, and to his right is a young girl with long hair and a beauty mark. She has her arms wrapped around Itachi’s shoulders. Her smile is bright and radiant. 

It’s a little too quiet. That’s one thing that Deidara hates about Itachi; the fact that the Uchiha is so comfortable with silence. If he didn’t know better, he would say that Itachi revels in said silence because it unsettles those around him. To break the calmness in the air, Deidara speaks.

“So, who’s all in that picture with you?”

“You despise me,” Itachi says with a sickly rasp. He coughs and sits up just enough to shoot a glare in Deidara’s direction before flopping back down. Apparently, he’s grumpy when he’s sick- the opposite of Deidara, who usually becomes very affectionate. “Terribly so, in fact. Why are you acting like you want to get to know me now that we’re in a situation such as this? You’ve been talkative all day. It’s bothersome.”

Deidara pauses. The sharp words from Itachi’s end make his chest hurt, though he tries to ignore that like he tries to ignore all the other god-awful things Itachi has made him feel since they met. This has been the most talkative that Itachi has ever been with him, and of course, it’s because he’s sick and annoyed by Deidara’s presence.

“I was just curious, hm,” Deidara shrugs.

“Izumi, Shisui, and Sasuke Uchiha… Those are their names… Ah, never mind, I shouldn’t get into it. I don’t know why I even told you any of that, actually.”

Deidara’s eyes flicker back to the framed photo. He knows the many stories about Itachi Uchiha, the man who single-handedly murdered his entire family- spare his little brother. If all of it is true, that means that half the people in that picture are deceased due to Itachi himself.

“So, they’re all dead now. You killed them like you did the rest of your clan,” Deidara mutters and looks over at Itachi, who shrugs.

A non committal answer, but if the framed picture of those three by his bedside is anything to go by, then Itachi probably hasn’t accepted it. Or maybe he has and he’s just not over it. 

“Yes, you’re correct... You can leave, if you want,” Itachi murmurs. He’s lying on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Regardless of the fact that Deidara is in the room, he seems totally relaxed. Deidara is a little unsettled by it, to be honest. “I won’t tell Pein. I really don’t care what you do, Deidara. I don’t need you here to take care of me.”

Deidara rolls his sky blue eyes. If he were a worse person, he’d take advantage of Itachi’s illness and off him right now, but that just isn’t fair. He wants to beat Itachi at his best, after all… Or that’s what he tells himself. Deep down, the thought of killing Itachi under any circumstances makes his stomach drop, even if he’s been fantasizing about it for years. Itachi makes him feel things he doesn’t want to feel and having him dead would make those feelings go away. It would make life ten times easier… Right?

“You look half-dead. I don’t want to take care of you either, but if something happens, someone needs to be here, hm. If Pein shows up to a dead you and no one in sight to hold accountable, he’ll be pissed,” Deidara makes up the excuse on the fly, and surprisingly, Itachi looks convinced. “Unfortunately, the person who needs to be here just so happens to be me.”

“I see,” Itachi sits up and pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. It’s an odd posture for someone so tall and lanky, but Deidara doesn’t say anything; simply watches as Itachi rests his cheek against one of his knees. Soft-looking, feathery raven locks frame the circumference of the Uchiha’s neck and head like a halo. They’re so pretty that Deidara briefly considers cutting them off. “Tell me why some part of me was hoping you were here because you cared and not because Pein told you to be? I’m actually a little hurt.”

Deidara’s eyebrows shoot up.

Since when does Itachi care about that sort of thing?

His face flushes. Really, he could ignore Pein’s orders and leave if he wanted to. He could completely disobey Pein and try to kill Itachi right now. Itachi, however, is a subtle and reserved man who usually doesn’t question him about his motives when it comes to such things. He doesn’t question the way that Deidara spends so much time staring at him or question why Deidara purposefully starts trying to bicker with him any time they’re in a room together. It’s a game of cat and mouse, and finally, the mouse has decided to stop avoiding the cat.

Deidara refuses to give in and catch Itachi once and for all. Instead, he stands from his chair, crosses his arms, and starts pacing around the room with his back turned to where Itachi is sitting on the bed.

“I don’t know what gave you the impression that I’m physically capable of caring about you,” Deidara crosses his arms over his chest and looks away from Itachi. 

“I’m not sure what gave me that impression, either,” Itachi says in a hushed whisper. “You have my sincerest apologies.”

Silence hits the room once more, and again, Deidara is uncomfortable. All he can really here is the cacophony of low-pitched noise that is the mixture of his own heartbeat slamming in his ears and Itachi’s sniffly, wheezy breaths.

“Hm,” Deidara starts up. “As strong as you are, I would’ve never guessed that a bug would take you down like this.”

And, to his shock, Itachi laughs. Not a chuckle, not a small smile, but a deep, genuine laugh characterized by him throwing his head back and laughing so hard into the cold air that it starts his cough back up. Deidara snaps his head back around to observe. When Itachi manages to clear the cough with a few slaps to his chest, he shakes his head, grins up at Deidara, and speaks again. 

“You’d be surprised at all the things that could take me down, Deidara.”

Deidara quirks a brow and scrutinizes the wistful look in Itachi’s dark eyes for a few seconds longer than he honestly should.

“Care to give me a list?” He prods in a manner that makes Itachi shake his head. 

“No. I don’t want to make it too easy for you, lest you get bored with your fantasies of blowing me into unidentifiable pieces once you realize just how easy it would be.”

“You must be screwing with me.”

Itachi looks up. His eyes pour into the one of Deidara’s that’s visible, two orbs of charcoal burning into a pool of blue.

“Am I? Am I really?”

A few days pass. Deidara and Itachi both recover from whatever sickness it was that they had. Sasori was even kind enough to help out with some medical ninjutsu to heal the soreness in Deidara’s throat. As much as a mean bastard as the puppeteer can be, there are times where he’s actually quite helpful, hence why Deidara has gone to him for advice a handful of times in the past. Tonight is no different.

“What is it, brat?” Sasori spits without so much as turning from where he’s sat at his so called ‘art’ station, nimble wooden hands fast at work to adjust the threads of a new puppet.

Deidara lingers in his open doorway, his own hands clutching the wooden edge. He gulps and starts to speak.

“Can I get some advice?”

“Advice of what variety?” Sasori asks coldly.

Admittedly, the puppeteer is less than comforting and far from compassionate, but that’s just how Deidara likes his people. It makes things less awkward when situations such as this one come to light. 

“I’m… Not sure how to define it,” Deidara responds and stims by running his nails up and down the rough wooden surface of the doorway. His heart beats a little faster in his chest than it normally would. “Interpersonal, maybe?”

At that, Sasori sets his work down, turns in his chair, and faces Deidara with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

“As in a relationship with another person?”

“Hm, yeah,” Deidara nods and slowly but surely eases out of the doorway so he can sit in front of Sasori on the carpet. The bedroom door is half-shut behind him. “Something like that.”

“Spill.”

“There’s this person that I like… Romantically,” He starts to explain with a rose blush dusting the tops of his cheekbones. Sasori appears interested yet simultaneously unamused. “They hinted the other day that they may like me back, but they have a habit of pushing away anyone who’s interested in getting to know them. I don’t know why they’re that way, but it’s frustrating as fuck and every time I think I’ve made some progress they push me away again.”

Sasori shrugs.

“I think you have a simple problem with a simple solution.”

Deidara pauses, opens his mouth to speak, and allows it to fall shut again. Simple? He has not a semblance of a clue as to how anything regarding his relationship with Itachi could be considered simple. It’s a complicated issue with a solution that he has yet to figure out, because every solution he’s thought of has a vast list of negative complications that could come with trying to implement it.

“Simple? The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t let them,” Sasori states plainly.

“What?”

“Don’t let them push you away,” He reiterates, making Deidara’s brows furrow together in a mixture of awe and confusion. “The solution is to simply push back. People like that tend to push those who care away because they’re afraid of vulnerability despite secretly craving it. If you push back, this person is sure to break and let you in.”

With that, Deidara stands, determination flickering in his core.

“Hm… I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but actually, you’re right,” He nods and looks Sasori dead in the eye before heading towards the door. “Yeah! I’m gonna go give Itachi a piece of his own medicine, hm.”

“Wait, what the fu-”

Deidara excitedly leaves Sasori’s bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Usually, at this time of day, Itachi is locked in his own bedroom or training. When Deidara looks outside through the windows to see that the Uchiha isn’t at the Akatsuki training grounds, he heads towards said Uchiha’s bedroom instead, only to open the door and find that it’s empty. He enters before he can think better of it, one big blue eye darting around and taking in his surroundings.

It’s cleaner than it was the other day when he was there, he thinks. That photo of Itachi and his clan members is no longer on the nightstand, probably hidden away in a drawer or a cabinet somewhere. The bed is neatly made and the floor is spotless. He considers leaving, but just as he does, Itachi walks in behind him and closes the door so quietly that Deidara doesn’t even realize he’s there until the smell of cologne hits his nostrils. 

“What do you want? And why are you in my room?” Itachi asks in his usual monotone voice, that one he uses when he’s around people he’s either trying to blow off or intimidate. After what happened when Deidara was in there the last time, the blond can’t help but be offended by it; by how Itachi is acting like nothing happened between them. “This is quite… Invasive.”

“Drop the formalities, Itachi. Shit happened while I was in here the other day and boundaries were crossed,” Deidara turns, walks to Itachi, and gets in his face. Though they’re only four or five inches apart in height, the difference feels staggering. Itachi doesn’t slouch nor does he look away, simply standing tall and meeting Deidara’s gaze with crossed arms and a painfully neutral expression. “Things aren’t the same and I have questions.”

“Such as?”

“You made that comment about being hurt that I don’t care for you,” Deidara starts, reflecting on that genuinely hurt tone Itachi used and tried to thinly veil with feigned sarcasm back when they were sick together. “I don’t understand how you can expect anyone to care for you when you act the way you do. You do what you can to keep people at a distance and no one knows anything about you except for the fact that you’re a psychotic murderer who slaughtered his entire clan, you’re ridiculously strong, and you have some sort of autoimmune disorder that takes over when you get sick. That’s it. No one knows your favorite color or your hopes and dreams, or anything you’re passionate about, or what foods you like, or what you consider art.”

“It’s not an autoimmune disease.”

Deidara’s surprised at how the first thing Itachi addresses is his sickness. He expected the ravenette to avoid the subject at all costs. His eyes widen in shock at Itachi’s bluntness.

“...What?” Deidara quietly demands, hoping that Itachi will elaborate.

“It’s not an autoimmune disease, it’s… Rare, and terminal. I was diagnosed with it when I was a teenager, just days before I killed my clan members,” Itachi explains and pulls away from Deidara so he can go lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling. Unsure of what else to do, Deidara stands there quite awkwardly and listens to Itachi’s woes. The part of him that hated Itachi and everything the Uchiha stands for from the very start of their correspondence wants to laugh. The rest of him wants to cry.  “It’s a sort of stress induced Chakra depletion. The more stressed I become, the less Chakra reserves I have, and let me tell you, I am stressed. All of the damage that’s been done to my body is irreversible. Eventually, I’m going to slowly run out of Chakra and die, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It just so happens to be more draining when I’m sick like I was earlier this week.”

Silence. Neither of them talk for a few moments after Itachi finishes. Deidara scans Itachi’s body up and down with his eyes, trying to memorize it in case today (or tomorrow, or the day after that, or the next day, or the next day) is the last day that Itachi has in this life. Itachi doesn’t pay him any mind without being prompted to do so, either, so Deidara asks-

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Why not? It’s not like you’ll tell anyone. The one person you talk to is Sasori and the only interest he’d have in my terminal illness is the potential of obtaining my corpse to turn into one of his puppets afterwards, not my wellbeing.”

“I-” Deidara starts, desperate to argue, but Itachi doesn’t let him get more than a word in, simply steamrolling the conversation.

“And even if you were to tell anyone, they wouldn’t believe you. How would telling the other Akatsuki members benefit you, anyway? It wouldn’t. They’d laugh- though whether it’d be at you or at the thought of me dying, I’m not sure.”

“Itachi-”

“So? What else do you need to know for you to care about me?”

And there are a million things Deidara wants to ask. He wants to ask why Itachi murdered his entire family, why he willingly joined the Akatsuki instead of having to be forced in like most of the other members, what kind of art he enjoys, what his favorite foods and drinks are, what books he enjoys, what his favorite color is, whether he’s a tea person or a coffee person, what his deepest fears and desires are. First and foremost, though, he asks-

“When- do you… Do you have a prognosis? Or, any idea of when you’re going to die?”

“If I had to guess, within the next two years,” Itachi answers while raising a hand to look at his fingernails, as if inspecting them. They’re short, yellowed, frail, and slightly clubbed.

“Then why should I care about you if you’re just going to leave me soon?” Deidara huffs and crosses his arms.

“I’m not saying you should. Really, I’d advise you against it, but part of me suspects that you’ve been harboring feelings for me for a long time,” Itachi smiles something soft and wistful that makes Deidara’s heart skip a beat. Finally, the ravenette looks at him, too, something reminiscent of affection in his eyes. Deidara thinks that’s what it is, anyway. Most people are annoyed by him at best and don’t care about him at worst. He actually isn’t quite sure of what love or adoration or any of those sappy feelings look like on anyone’s face aside from his own, but he suspects that this must be it. Itachi must at least like him for them to be doing this, right? For Itachi to be reaching out for his hand, to hold it so gently and intertwine their fingers like they’re meant to fit together in the way that two puzzle pieces would? “You’ve never been one for following orders, and yet you stayed in my room and cared for me like a good little Akatsuki member despite having claimed that you hate my guts since you joined.”

“And?” Deidara whispers. “So what if I do? Harbor feelings for you, I mean… Care for you. I think that’s the term, hm.”

“Then… I’d say I care for you as well, Deidara.”

“You care for me…?”

“I do.”

It’s quiet again. Neither of them say anything else, but Deidara does dare to join Itachi on his bed. He didn’t lock the door, they’re both still getting over their respiratory bug, and Itachi is dying, but Deidara chooses to throw caution to the wind like he always does, ignoring whatever complications are sure to come so he can enjoy this. 

He deserves to enjoy something other than art, right? To enjoy someone loving him for once? Caring for him in a way that a lifeless clay statue never could? Or maybe that’s what Itachi is to him; another art form. Yes, that sounds nice…

“Itachi.”

“Yes?”

“You’re like art, you know that? Fleeting-”

“Shut up, Deidara,” Itachi blankly states and reassuringly squeezes Deidara’s hand. “You don’t have to fill the silence. Let it be.”

“Hm… Fine.”