#uchiha flex

[kitsumirae]

UCHIHAS doing it the flashy way.

[everymadara]

Chapter 691

[kankuroplease]

Aweee how cute, I’d love to see Katsura give madara the sword ✨🖤

She would be so proud to present her blade ✨

[vulpes-fox]

sasori is the most boring member of the akatsuki ngl

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Chapter XI

Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.

Word Count: 9.6k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Chapter I | Previous Chapter | Part XI (Current Chapter)

Notes: A one month turnaround for me and this series is becoming unheard of. Probably due to the lengths of these chapters. Why do they keep growing???

Hashirama enjoyed lingering in a lovely garden, and political figures, no matter the rank, tended to flock around Hashirama. So, to accommodate Hashirama’s tendency to idle in nature and the massive posse of political figures that vied for his attention, a sizable courtyard area was built near the Senju dwellings.

When Tobirama tore through the garden and stormed inside, he appeared troubled, much more so than usual. While he usually tried to ignore Hashirama’s bids for laughs and attention, the speed and force with which he stormed through the courtyard raised Hashirama’s brow. 

Tobirama was granted a brief reprieve. However, his brother's delayed presence was strictly attributed to the many political figures Hashirama had to gently dismiss before he could follow Tobirama inside. 

Tobirama was already hunched over a desk, penning away at some lengthy document with his forehead in his palm. While the desk was cluttered, the mass of papers and stationery items were allotted into neat, well-maintained piles for their size. Hashirama frowned in the doorway, allowing his brow to twitch a minuscule amount before he quietly shut the door. His head dropped before it rolled back.

“What happened?” he asked. 

Tobirama didn’t answer. His back flexed with more tension than needed for the simple task of writing. Hashirama let out a deep sigh. 

”I did tell you that it would not end well, now did I not?” 

“I was the swiftest messenger,” Tobirama snapped, slamming his quill on the table. The sound reverberated across the near-empty room. He sat straight, facing forward as he took a steady breath in. But the moment he took to calm himself did nothing for the volume of his voice. “What do I have to shrink away from regarding the Uchiha? We had all killed our fair share on the battlefield. Facing a fellow warrior with a grudge is no matter to me!”

Hashirama flinched neither at his brother’s volume nor the physicality of his outburst. His face slowly melted from its usual brightness to a concerned neutrality.

“Well, this tells me that you did not engage with a fellow warrior.” Hashirama’s gaze narrowed. He hardly let a beat pass. “What did you do, brother?”

The room fell silent. Tobirama should have known that his brother was far too clever to let him ignore what happened at the Uchiha compound. He didn’t expect that in any reality. The moment his hands found your skin, Tobirama knew there was no coming back. It would have to come out eventually, given that this was surely the end of the Uchiha-Senju compromise for which Hashirama had worked so hard. 

And for what he had told you about slapping the scroll out of his hand, the incredulousness he committed was far more severe and far more reckless. 

Tobirama turned, his face nothing less than severe and neutral as he approached Hashirama to kneel and bow deeply at his feet. His head hardly touched the wood flooring below for Hashirama to be filled with dread.

“I have committed a great error, for I have laid hands on a member of the Uchiha council!” Tobirama proclaimed, his forehead digging into the floor. 

Hashirama took a moment of pause above him. 

“And this was in self-defense?”

Another moment of pause came. Tobirama didn’t let it last for long and spoke what he knew was the truth, “No,” he said.

Tension grew in the stale air.

“For the sake of clarity,” Hashirama started. Tobirama’s heart had already begun to palpate in anticipation of the words he knew would come next. Hashirama’s voice had hardly wavered, but Tobirama knew his brother well enough to know that Hashirama was barely restraining rage. “You had laid hands on Madara’s companion.” 

Your name followed, spoken in the same way one would name a jutsu. The mere word stilled the atmosphere in such a way that Hashirama didn’t need explicit confirmation.

Tobirama breathed in.

“Yes.”

Hashirama hummed, deep in thought behind his neutral eyes and deepening frown. Yes, his mind was working quickly, perhaps almost as swiftly as the rising heat of rage in his chest. Hashirama hardly wore his expressions on his face when it came to grave matters, a stark contrast to his usual jovial demeanor. 

“Pick yourself up, brother.”

Tobirama obeyed, and just when he got to his feet, Hashirama’s fist flew mercilessly across Tobirama’s face. It was a strike thrown without frills, just hard knuckle against skin at a velocity unseen. The sound snapped through the room, as red stained Tobirama’s starkly pale skin. He recoiled, having been forced down to one knee from the sheer power of such a simple strike. Hashirama hardly had anything to add, watching as his brother maneuvered his own jaw, popping it back into place. Tobirama’s hand came away with a streak of blood from his ruptured nostril. 

“I cannot say that was not deserved—”

”You best have a great explanation.” Hashirama fidgeted, moving to turn but jerking back toward Tobirama. Hashirama held a hand to his own face, squeezing and massaging the skin of his cheeks as he heavily pondered. He stared off into a corner of the room. “Madara loved Izuna more than anyone else, and I had just barely managed to persuade him into these negotiations—”

—“I know this, brother, the deepest apologies could never—”

“Tobirama, you do understand that you have attacked a civilian?” Hashirama asserted. Another great pause filled the space between them. There was too much to say and little time for it. “You have laid hands on a civilian much smaller than yourself, a diplomatic ally, and the very person that has the most sway over Madara and, by extension, the Uchiha as a whole.” 

Even now, Hashirama's voice held great patience but left little room for escape. He spoke to understand, even as the fate of a unified Land of Fire looked as if it would crash down around him. 

“I need an explanation,” Hashirama said. “If I am to face Madara— for there is no doubt that Madara has already heard word— I require your reasoning.”

He looked Tobirama in the eye, concern and complexity swimming around his dark irises. Tobirama had since picked himself off the floor.

“I am sorry…” Tobirama’s head bowed. “I cannot offer you an explanation that Madara would accept. I am certain that the truth would only make him more furious than he already is.”

“You have bigger issues than Madara if you refuse to speak,” Hashirama said with an acute frown. “Without information from you, I can only assume the worst.”

Tobirama ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, especially out loud. But in the face of his brother, with such important things in the balance, Tobirama couldn’t hesitate. 

“We were involved long ago when we were but children… Perhaps for a series of weeks… Perhaps less,” Tobirama admitted, and to his slight surprise, Hashirama wasn’t fazed. Why would he be when he had also snuck off to see an Uchiha in his youth as well? Tobirama expected no less. He squared his shoulders, clasping his hands together as if delivering a report. “Seeing her after so long… She had brought up things that had happened, and I lost my temper.” His slender eyebrows wrinkled his forehead. He gave a nod of acknowledgment. “I spoke in a foul manner. She, rightfully, retaliated… and I did the same tenfold.”

Tobirama nodded, thinking as to whether he had left anything significant out of his brief summary. Shame coated him like a blanket. It all sounded so trivial when put in such a way.

Hashirama placed his hands on his hips, casting his gaze toward the ceiling. He breathed in deeply, then out.

“Of all the women…” Hashirama sighed, letting his eyes close. “She did not sustain lasting damage, did she?”

“Of course not,” Tobirama defended, sounding almost insulted. “You think I would brutalize a council member unprovoked in the middle of the woods?” He shook his head, his fingers momentarily finding the hair just above his forehead. He raked the strands back like a comb. Tobirama’s eyes also fell shut. He took another breath in as if preparing himself for his next confession. “I pinned her by the neck.”

“By gods, Tobirama!”

“My aim was not to kill or injure.”

“I am sure she was petrified all the same! And you know as well as I that Madara would not see it that way,” Hashirama asserted. “All he will be able to think is that you attacked his companion when he was away—”

—“Please stop referring to her as this.”—

“You could have faintly touched the shoulder of her robes, and that would have been far too much aggression shown toward an Uchiha woman.” Hashirama shook his head.

Tobirama rolled his eyes.

“My regretful actions aside, I do not understand why it should matter whether she is a woman or not.”

“Because the Uchiha are of a different culture, brother. Only a handful of female Uchiha warriors have existed in their history, that being only so many you could have come across, and yet you had to choose Madara’s closest companion to pick a fight with!” He shook his head, letting it fall back into his hand again. “I must go tend to this. We can only hope that Madara remains in a headspace from which he can be talked down.”

Hashirama grabbed his haori, pulling it over his shoulders as he primed himself toward the door. Tobirama didn’t budge. He knew that the mess he made had to be mended by Hashirama. No one else could pull off such a feat.

“I am prepared to take full responsibility,” he said with certainty.

“Madara will certainly demand your head,” Hashirama countered gravely. “We can only hope that creativity finds me on my journey there.”

***

“Where have you been?” you snapped. Madara had barely made it to the compound before you were upon him. “You have been gone for hours!”

You barged out from the Uchiha compound, marching across the dirt clearing to Madara, who stood still. A massive beast was slung across his shoulder, its head handing over his back. 

He scowled. You spoke to him with quite the tongue on you for as long as he could remember. He hadn’t been particularly fond of it then, and ever since he had been chosen as the head of the Uchiha, his tolerance for your attitude had dwindled immensely. Madara checked you far more often, unashamed of using his title to silence you. Still, your familiarity with each other was enough to overpower formalities more often than he would have liked.

“Hunting,” he deadpanned. He spared a momentary glance at the beast draped over his armor.

You looked at it incredulously.

“Is that a deer?” The rest of the council, who were used to your spats with Madara, completely passed the two of you by. They carried their gear, chatting amongst themselves and paying little mind to what you were on about. “You know better than to hunt deer in Nara territory!” 

You placed your fists on your hips, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest after being pent up all afternoon. Of all the times for the Uchiha men to get restless, it had to have been the time you needed them most.

“Well, I will inform you now that while you and the rest of my kinsmen have disappeared for half a day, Tobirama Senju came to this place in search of you!” You huffed, too wrapped up in yourself to notice Madara’s darkened demeanor. You opened your mouth wide to continue, ready to spit venom and fire alike. “I do not even know where to start when it comes to the absolute nerve—”

“I am able to believe such things,” Madara interrupted, his intonation a tick lower than usual. The volume surprised you. He looked at you straight on with a severe air about him. “What did he want? It better have been a very important message to compensate for his coming to this place. Tobirama should know better than to show his face here.”

You sputtered, thrown off by not being able to finish your earlier thought. But with Madara’s words, you were suddenly too caught up in what he said to remember the entire rant you wanted to unleash. You blinked a few times. You had a whole tirade ready that you had carefully been scripting in your head since you dragged yourself back to the compound to await Madara’s return. Now, as things weren’t happening the way they had in your head, you found yourself thrown off.

“Only to deliver a scroll,” you stammered, trying to pick a direction. Your personal issues aside, was there a reason that Tobirama should have been hesitant to show himself at the Uchiha compound? “Did… something happen between you and Hashirama? Because Tobirama came to this place absolutely—”

“A scroll? Bah!” Madara shook his head, waving a hand. He began to march off to follow the rest of his men. “If you are asking just me, I would believe that Hashirama and I are on favorable terms,” he announced into the evening atmosphere. Madara spared a brief, singular glance back at you. “Unless Tobirama suggested otherwise… Even so, a discussion with Hashirama would be paramount before I believe a word that man speaks!” 

Even for his noises of annoyance, Madara appeared almost unconcerned. And while you could see the visible tension in his form on his dismayed expression, Madara continued on.

You followed behind him. You had never been able to keep up with Madara’s long and fast strides. You were convinced he walked like that on purpose. 

“Madara! Will you just let me speak?”

“You have been allowed to speak for the duration of this. Out with whatever is negging you so.”

The head of the beast he carried laid limply over his shoulder, or perhaps the better term would have been heads. It was some sort of two-headed deer with great antlers, a good portion of which dug into the back of Madara’s armor. It couldn’t have been comfortable to carry. 

You breathed in with certainty.

“While you were away, Tobirama had come to this place and raised a hand to me—”

“Madara! My friend! Talking about me, are you?” Hashirama’s voice drowned you out completely.

You turned in shock as Hashirama made his way up the hill, trudging through the dirt path with a great smile and wave of his hand. From the little time you had been acquainted with him, he had always been rather loud when he grew excited. Even during negotiations, the sheer volume of his voice was enough to hear from several rooms over. 

Madara turned as well with a sigh. He readjusted the deer on his shoulder.

“Will no one let me place this thing down?” He lamented to no one in particular. His voice rose when he called across the clearing. “What do you want, Hashirama?”

”No need to be so hostile, Madara!” Hashirama laughed, making short work of the distance between you. “Do I need a reason to visit?”

It was in one moment that you made eye contact. Hashirama’s gaze met yours, and in that connection, his eyes flickered from wide and jovial to wary. The upturned corner of his lip faltered, and it all happened in an undetectable fraction of a second.

He knew. 

There was noise all around you. Madara continued to speak, sighing and complaining as the noises of nocturnal bugs seemed to grow to an unbearable volume. Even the gentle evening breeze seemed to hit your ears in just the right way as to be almost deafening.

Despite how authentic it might have been, you knew that Hashirama’s upbeat and charismatic demeanor was a calculated tool. For as energetic as he was, there was always a certain volume that masked the way in which Hashirama played his cards close to his chest. 

And yet, for all the noise, it only took one look at Hashirama—one pointed gaze that pierced through his carefully crafted diplomatic demeanor—to understand your mutual situation instantly. 

He had come to begin damage control, and you had yet to tell Madara what Tobirama had done. As long as Hashirama wasn’t here to pick a fight, the discussions were still on the table, contrary to Tobirama’s earlier threat.

— “Hashirama?”

Madara’s voice cut through your mental stare. Hashirama’s shock was visible but melted quickly into an endearingly sheepish expression.

”My apologies, my friend, you must speak up!” he laughed. Madara groaned with a roll of his eyes, once again readjusting the deer on his shoulder. 

“I hardly have the time for these things!” He frowned. “What are you doing here, Hashirama? If you do not answer, we can settle your matter during daylight hours.”

“The sun still prevails!” Hashirama gestured loosely toward the setting sun, and in the golden light, you stole another pointed gaze toward each other. “But truly, I wanted to apologize for my brother.”

Madara glanced in your direction.

“Go inside.”

“You speak as if I have not participated in every diplomacy session for the last two sunsets,” you countered. 

Madara hardly had the time to eye you warily. And after a long hunt, Madara had too little patience for beating around the bush. He had truthfully wanted to be rid of you and Hashirama. But as he glanced between the two of you, he knew that trying to avoid one would pick a battle with the other. Reluctantly, Madara’s eyes settled on Hashirama.

“Tobirama should have been relieved that myself and the rest of the council were not here to humor his lapse in judgment,” Madara reluctantly gruffed with a deep scowl. “We may be engaging in peace negotiations, but bear in mind that the passing of my own brother was not all that long ago.”  

His words struck you, the weight of them looming overhead as your mind had yet to piece things together. 

“We may be on friendly terms with the Senju as a whole, but a killer entering our estate is pushing the limits on our… courtesy. Especially with a lady present with no guardian by her side.”

Madara didn’t talk much about Izuna or the nature of his death. Aside from the night Madara begged you to accompany him to the village negotiations, Izuna’s name hadn’t come up since, no matter how much you pushed.

You had wanted to talk about him so as not to let his memory fade, but Madara had refused to speak about the matter. You dropped it, a part of you trying to be understanding while the other was far too wrapped up in the fact that the ceasefire had turned your world upside down.

“Most certainly; we are in complete agreement.” Hashirama nodded profusely. “I will ensure that he will not play courier in the future.”

And yet, when Madara spoke of Izuna’s death to Hashirama on a random summer night in the clearing just outside the Uchiha dwellings, you knew the truth. You just didn’t quite believe it. It hadn’t hit you yet.

“That would be agreeable,” Madara agreed. A beat passed. Hashirama made no motion to leave or speak. “Anything else you wish to discuss?”

Hashirama stole another glance at you.

“Yes, in fact, this is not all I wanted to speak about—”

“I was not aware that Tobirama had been the one to kill Izuna,” you said, your voice projected by pure shock. But the volume aside, the words were enough to slice through the clearing and still the powerful men that stood before you. 

The entire sentence had been flat, devoid of shock, hurt, or anger. It was a statement in every sense of the word that nearly forced the air in the clearing to a thick, atmospheric standstill. 

It felt odd to say out loud like none of the words you spoke were words at all. You could feel the reality of it all floating around you, like tiny particles of truth hovering over your shoulders, ready to fill your chest like crashing waves. And yet, no sensation came. 

It was an objective truth devoid of sharpness, unable to penetrate the core of your soul. Reality felt numb, the shapes of things in your vision sharpening significantly as the most minute textures and details became glaring. 

You thought it would have felt as if the world was crashing down… and yet all you could feel was the warmth of the little embers that had been sparked in your chest.

Hashirama’s tongue recoiled as Madara turned toward you with regretful concern. 

“Is this true?” you asked. 

All Madara could do was look at you before deflating his chest with a deep sigh. He didn’t answer. Hashirama stood by. It didn’t take an emotional genius to recognize that now was hardly the time to have the conversation he had come all this way to have. And yet, the repercussions of leaving you and Madara to hash out the details surrounding his beloved brother’s death were even more daunting. 

“Hashirama—” It was another instance of Hashirama not being where his feet were. He blinked a few times, the motion of his surprise subtle as you and Madara stood closely before him. “Unless your matter is urgent, I must ask you to save this discussion for another date.”

Hashirama took a steady breath in, taking the nanosecond that he had to consider the facts in front of him. He saw Madara fatigued and moderately high-strung. And perhaps he could have worked with that if it wasn’t for the outlier: you. 

You stood by Madara’s side, having overstayed your welcome in the conversation long enough to have swerved the topic so off-topic that it would be impossible for Hashirama to even consider bringing up the indiscretion that Tobirama had committed against you. His brother had wronged both you and Madara. Hashirama knew he either had to nip it in the bud and risk making matters worse or leave the two of you alone. In doing so, he would be trusting that, for whatever reason, you would continue to hold your tongue about your interaction with Tobirama.

“Bah, woman, is it your intention to make things difficult? My shoulder has been bearing the weight of your dinner; I will have you know!”

“It is hardly the fault of my own!... Hunting in Nara territory… What were you thinking? You knew better than this!”

Madara scoffed.

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

“Were not these the thoughts that clouded your brain when you held such crucial information away from me, Madara?”

Right. Right. 

Hashirama bobbed his head a few times and held one hand up to bid the two of you goodbye. Neither of you noticed. 

***

It always started with something like this: something that didn’t bother you until you and Madara bickered more and more. And suddenly, the jabs made half lightly turned into actual problems. Or perhaps they were problems when you initially picked a fight with him, masked by pettiness until you hardly had the restraint to hold your punches.

With Hashirama long forgotten, you bickered all over the Uchiha compound. Hell, you had exchanged words over Madara breaking down the deer he brought back. The antlers— you had decided over verbal blows— would be returned to the Nara to use in their medicine as a gesture of goodwill. Any additional meat that wasn’t roasted over the fire that the other Uchiha had been tending to outside would be salted and brought to the Nara aunties to be incorporated into the next day’s lunch. 

This all, of course, meant nothing to you in the face of the revelation you had uncovered during Madara’s and Hashirama’s conversation. 

“I had known that this would be the outcome,” Madara had sighed following a bombardment of questions. “I bring it upon myself at this point.”

It wasn’t until Madara was finished with all of his tasks and appeared to be looking for anything else to do that you finally cornered him on the engawa. 

“Why?” You had called into the night. 

You gazed at the back of Madara’s large form. Lanterns burned around you, casting a gentle, warm glow onto the wood at your feet. Fireflies and other creatures of the night hovered somewhere in the darkness, the blackness of the night making your wooden engawa feel like the only place in the world. And perhaps at that moment, the Uchiha dwellings were all that existed to you. 

“Was it a surrender?” you asked. You would nearly say you cried it, but no tears welled in your eyes. Your face scrunched, puzzled, as you tried to assemble the pieces. “Has this all been a convoluted way of us begging for our lives?”

Madara stood still, just like the world around you. You were sure he had something heated on his tongue, something along the lines of these things not affecting you. But it did affect you. 

Helplessness was not foreign to you, and yet, for everything that happened up until now, you have never felt as utterly helpless in your life.

You kept pushing and pushing him, knowing he would explode soon enough. But perhaps that was the point; you wanted him to explode. You wanted something, any sort of information that might make you feel less helpless than you felt. 

But for Madara’s infamous temper, he was resigned.

“I suppose it was a surrender in a sense,” he admitted. “For Hashirama defeated me in battle.” 

He kept talking, but you expected more. You expected to be told your place and to keep your nose out of things that weren’t your concern. 

It all made little sense to you. There was little logic to you in the first place. You were a simple apothecary— who shouldn’t have even had that position— becoming the most important Uchiha woman practically overnight. You shouldn’t have known a single detail. You shouldn’t have exchanged words with the Uchiha council, let alone national dignitaries. 

Madara was clan head. 

Madara should have been strong enough for the Uchiha. 

He was smarter than this. He was more driven than this, yet the Uchiha floundered on a field that wasn’t battle. Madara should have taken care of it all just as he promised! Madara shouldn’t have put any of it on your shoulders in asking you to be with him, especially if he knew he was out of his league. 

You wanted a fight.

You stared at the back of Madara’s head, watching as he began to retreat.

You took a deep breath in before you called, “And so you betray the last words of your brother?”

“Woman!” Madara roared for the first time that evening. He whipped around, the sheer tick in volume making you flinch. But even so, you faced him without fear, the ember in your chest flaring to life to form a great flame. You didn’t move from where you stood, even as Madara stepped forward. Your eyes widened in anticipation.

You were picking a lot of fights as of late.

He had a feral look in his eye that only intensified with the glow of his sharingan. The very sight of his red irises made you feel small, shrinking as you lowered your head, trying to hide your excited glee. You gritted your teeth, ready to engage in the verbal fisticuffs you graciously requested.

But to your disappointment, Madara almost seemed to deflate. His eyes closed as tension built up in his forehead. He ran a hand across his face with a deep sigh.

The nocturnal creatures of the forest continued to chirp around you. They were the only things keeping you anchored to the reality below your feet. 

“You want a story, do you?” Madara muttered in a soft tone that didn’t suit him. “You want me to tell you about my duel with Hashirama?”

His finger gently found the bottom of your chin. Madara tilted your head up before his arms coiled over his chest. It was another action that didn’t suit him, yet the night continued to surround you, enveloping you in a muted blanket of protection from the outside world. 

It felt like the summers of your youth. Festivities and special events happened during the day, leaving reprieve and anticipation to the night. The air in the Land of Fire was prone to mugginess to the point where it was almost stifling without the cool air that sailed through the trees. But even so, it smelled the same as it did back then. Your skin felt a bit sticky, but not to an overly uncomfortable extent. You were just warm, almost warm enough to sleep. 

“I had left our home in anger— in grief. I was fully intent on Hashirama and I killing each other the moment I tracked him down. And, as honorable as he is, Hashirama allowed the duel I sought. I suppose I should have known it would only result in a loss,” Madara narrated. Another victory for Hashirama was undoubtedly a blow to his ego, but Madara told the tale levelly. The tone in and of itself carried a great respect.

“And he had simply spared you,” you assumed.

“Nay,” Madara answered. “Hashirama had all the opportunity to finish me then and there. I had practically asked him to honor me with a warrior's death, for then perhaps I could have been reunited with Izuna… but instead, he presented me with a proposal.” Madara made a vague gesture. “This. These negotiations with the hope that we might stop fighting.”

You breathed. The lanterns flickered in the dark, only providing enough light to barely illuminate Madara’s somber face.

“And you believed him,” you finally spoke. “Why?”

Something flashed across Madara’s dark irises, a certain softness to pair with his regretful resignation.

“I would not expect you to understand,” he said. The corners of his lips dipped into a slight frown.

You let him simmer, once again unsatisfied. And truly, there was nothing else to do but probe, not when the Uchiha compound was the only thing comprising your world. Or perhaps it wasn’t the compound as much as it was the engawa upon which you and Madara stood.

“Do you consider that Hashirama believes in us as strongly as you believe in him?” you asked.

Another moment passed.

“Yes.”

“And what do you think of this in the context of all of this? Do you think Hashirama would be in favor of our equality in the village?”

“I believe that Hashirama holds pure intentions.” 

Hashirama, not the Senju. And certainly not the rest of the clans gathered. 

Your eyes narrowed.

“And you think that will make a difference?”

The embers in the lanterns suddenly flared, glowing only slightly bigger. The glow that cast across Madara’s face brightened for only a moment, making the shadows that enveloped his right side seem darker. His black hair held a golden sheen to it. 

“That is yet to be foreseen.”

***

Madara retired early that night. He decided he didn’t want to talk any further, rejecting all speak about Hashirama and Tobirama. Like before Hashirama’s visit, any further mention of Izuna was once again forbidden. But despite one thing in its singularity returning to normal, Madara, ever physical, arrogant, and stubborn, appeared far more pensive as of late. 

He was quiet. It was odd seeing him so quiet. It felt wrong seeing a fighter such as Madara so limp. Despite what your teenage self would have protested, you almost missed Madara’s pompous confidence and self-righteousness. As tiring as he was, his attitude always gave him a spark: a fire that had been missing ever since his defeat at the hands of Hashirama. 

You wanted to ask him, “Where is your fire?”

Perhaps it was because the context of bloodshed was the only place he knew how to fight in the first place. He might have known no other way. And yet, it was odd— painful even— to see Madara out of his element. 

He seemed lost, pushing toward a goal he did not even know how to achieve. His seemingly blind loyalty to Hashirama was another mystery. While Hashirama was undoubtedly a great man, you could hardly say you knew much about him. You undoubtedly didn’t know enough to wrap your head around Madara’s unyielding trust in the man whose throat he’d held a kunai to for a lifetime. Perhaps he was right when he said you wouldn’t understand. 

Perhaps none of it was Hashirama at all. A greater part of you knew that it wasn’t the defeat that plagued Madara’s mind, and that idea holed itself somewhere in the back of your thoughts. 

You couldn’t sleep. 

The memory of Izuna haunted you, something you thought you shoved into a neat lockbox the night Madara came to the apothecary. You hardly remembered him for his last, bitter interaction with you following the Uchiha council’s meeting, but rather the night following the failed raid on the Uchiha settlement. You remembered how he stood in your apothecary, surrounded by candlelight, marred by blood and gore despite his clean hands. 

“Why is it always about what Madara wants?” you had asked him, banking on Izuna picking up the subtext you were too afraid to say out loud. 

There was a brief moment, a second of thought, where you wondered if saying the quiet part out loud would have made a difference. Instead, he haunted you: a spirit of a dear childhood friend, a brother in all aspects but blood, and a potential of something and nothing that faded with the strike of Tobirama Senju’s sword.

Tobirama Senju: another man you wanted to forget. You refused to think of him at all. The mere thought of him made you cringe, yet the rage he had spurred on brought you here.

It was the one place where you thought you could feel a semblance of control over your present. You could sit in the council chambers and imagine what it would look like to have a novel idea. But now, you found yourself hiding again, pressed against a wooden beam in the dark as hushed voices deliberated inside. 

The memory of the initial meeting flashed across your thoughts as you stood outside the discussion hall. You had long since extinguished your lamp, holding it near your hip and close to the ground as you flared your sharingan. Your back met the outside of the hall, unabashedly listening in on the muffled conversation within. 

The walls were made of paper, as was traditional, and any structure that wasn’t made of paper was made of wood. The walls of the Uchiha meeting hall were made similarly, and you couldn’t help but wonder if your many nights of peering through those cracks were to prepare you for this very moment. 

You were drawn to the hall, following only aimless instinct after your discussion with Madara.

“And you think it wise to offer the Uchiha such a central location?” You heard. You weren’t acquainted well enough with all the clan heads to properly recall who was speaking. It sounded like Hyūga if you were to take a guess. A laugh resounded from inside the meeting room.

“Do you desire their proposed allocation?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then leave it be,” the second voice said, “You knew as well as I that any intelligence that Madara holds ends at the battlefield. Best to get them out of the way now. From there, we have more room to talk policy.”

The voices drifted, and as the collection of clan leaders trickled into the hall, you swiftly fled into the forest line to lie in wait. The collection of clan leaders slowly trickled out of the conference building, chattering amongst themselves. The head of the Fuma clan, an old ally of the Uchiha, and Inuzuka, to your surprise, were among the gathered. 

It was long past sunset, but that didn’t seem to affect the way they loitered outside the conference hall before slowly departing back toward their respective dwellings. You observed their hushed whispers from the canopy of a tree, sitting amongst rough wood and biting insects until the clan heads and their respective trustees left into the dark. 

You waited. You waited a few moments longer to ensure they all had left before you dismounted from your hiding place. Slowly, you approached the hall and quietly slipped in the door. 

The negotiation hall was still. And only when you determined that no one was left in the building did you relight the ember of your lantern. You scoured the rooms, starting with the one the three clan heads had just met in.

You weren’t surprised when you found it exactly how it had been set up. The room was spotless, with everything neatly in place, as you’d expect from high-ranking shinobi. 

You wandered to the main negotiation room just down the hall, where all the clan heads would gather again the next morning. It, too, was still.

You placed your lamp down at the table, taking a seat in Madara’s chair. You gazed across the room at where Hashirama would sit the next day. A neutral painting hung on the wall above his seat.    

You thought about the way Madara reluctantly consented to your use of the sharingan to record the conversation. You thought back to the charged looks exchanged between you, Madara, Hashirama, and Tobirama. How could you forget? 

You took a small stack of pages from your robes, a quill from your hair, and a bottle of ink from a string around your waist. You kept an internal record of the meeting and, by extension, a written one. Papers quickly consumed your waking hours since the discussions began. 

The other council members, Madara included, hardly touched papers, let alone put a quill to them. And plot to undermine the Uchiha aside, the whispering clan heads were correct. The Uchiha council were warriors through and through. The entire council had been chosen through battle, as Madara had been chosen as clan head. Scribing was not in their wheelhouse, nor was it in their interests.

It had only been a short time since negotiations began, hardly a week, let alone a handful of days. The Uchiha had yet to give a formal dissertation. Rather, Madara spoke strongly about what he was in favor of, what ideas he rejected, and almost predominantly off-cuff when it came to any ideas he had of his own. Ones that he almost always failed to share with you until it mattered.  

You had penned a few of these rough notes down on the pages below your wrists. As you studied the pen strokes, you couldn’t help but consider that many of Madara’s ideas were strikingly coherent, branching into topics from economic policy to the village grid. However, they lacked structure, well-thought-out details, and were surface-level at best. It didn’t matter how good his speeches were or how well you penned your notes if they couldn’t hold up to basic probing. 

The Uchiha didn’t have a proposal, especially not in the way that other clans did, but were expected to speak soon. Other clans were far better with organization, preparing lengthy dissertations and proposals that would be open for discussion and, ultimately, a vote. A haphazard way of running things, the proposed ideas were arranged by category and run through several rounds of deliberations and cuts until the most popular compromise prevailed.

You studied your handwriting, and the ink started to look less and less like words. You couldn’t make sense of it either, and for all the times your breath hitched when Madara should have done something different during the conference, you had no better ideas yourself. Rather, it took several read-throughs to wrap your head around the complex topics, hardly knowing a good idea from a bad one.

The Uchiha were a battle-minded clan, and you were a woman apothecary who was almost entirely self-taught. Then there was Madara. His struggle with bureaucratic competency aside, he might not have said it, but Madara was incredibly invested in a village of unity. You could see it when you spoke on the engawa. Madara himself aside, it was the only way forward where the Uchiha could even think of seeing the future. 

You considered your leverage and the grief that plagued Madara’s heart. Finally, the unlikely last piece of the puzzle was the negotiations as a whole. 

You gathered the documents and slid them into a hidden compartment of your robes for safekeeping. The warm glow of the tiny ember in your lamp illuminated your face in golden orange light before you blew the flame out. The smoke wafted up into the air, leaving the scent of burning in your nose.

***

A water fixture sat near the Senju dwellings. And at the risk of sounding dubious with your words, its structure felt very Senju in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The water ran from a small pond adorned with lilies and tall grasses and down a manufactured stream lined with round river stones. 

You made your way through the yard, stopping in the center to watch the stream run across the stone. Although, it appeared you weren’t quite as stealthy as you thought you were.

“I could have sworn you were Madara coming to take my head for my transgressions.” 

When you turned, Tobirama was ducking through the doorway and emerging out from the darkness of the Senju dwellings and onto the engawa. You turned away from the stream, quelling the startled jump in your chest. He was, after all, who you had come to see. 

Tobirama’s expression was neutral: neither pleased nor displeased with your arrival at the Senju dwellings so late at night. His surprise, however, was palpable in the air. The feeling was mutual.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could utter a word, Tobirama stepped down from the tall engawa and onto the ground below. It all happened quickly: the near effortless leap to the garden to meet you, your panicked step back, and as Tobirama began to bow, you had quickly ordered him to stop.

He had made it to one knee, seeming to freeze in place with the one word for him to halt. It was another instance where you had confused the both of you. His eyes cast down somewhere random; his forehead crinkled as he pondered his actions and wondered where he had gone wrong. Tobirama placed his other knee on the ground and gripped the pebbles below, fully intending to repent with a deep bow. 

Clans and other politics were far from his mind. He was ready to place his pride aside to grovel, but you scolded him again.

“Stop.” It was hard to determine exactly what your tone was. Not quite angry, not quite frightened, your voice was far from neutral and yet far too composed to place an emotion properly. As much as your heart beat loudly in your chest, Tobirama hardly knew better. How could he in the face of your scornful gaze? “Get up.”

Tobirama made piercing eye contact from his bowed position. You stood a distance before him, fists balled and jaw tensed. 

Slowly, he rose to his feet. Even when his face was nearly on the ground, Tobirama held a presence over the courtyard, and the energy he reined over hardly dwindled as he stood at his full height.

He was tall, perhaps even taller than Madara, and yet you hardly felt the domineering presence you grew used to in the Uchiha settlement. You practically expected it from a warrior as bulky and stoic as Tobirama. He seemed to have grown bitter in the years you had been apart. Hardened. Logical. And yet the dark chakra that seemed to drip from Madara in spades was not present in the Senju courtyard. 

Tobirama almost made himself another fixture of the garden, one you might glaze over if your eyes were to bounce across the foliage. You weren’t great at sensing the chakra of others unless the output was explicit— you were hardly one to use jutsu on a regular basis— but if Tobirama was letting any of his energy slip, you couldn’t sense an ounce. He was calm, ready to accept whatever punishment you were there to serve him.

In fact, he reminded you of…

“Is it true that you were the one who had slain Izuna?”

“Yes.”

The answer came quicker than you thought it would. In its singularity, the word was void of a brag or a boast. It came quickly, the noise not overstayed in the air—a singular truth.

You huffed, squaring your shoulders as you swiftly marched forward. You hitched the sleeve of your robes as you did, quickly closing the gap between the two of you as you wound up for a hefty strike. You walked until you were directly in front of Tobirama, arm cocked and at the ready. But for as quickly as the ember inside of you had flared to life, it extinguished into little more than smoke.

Tobirama had closed his eyes, and you hadn’t noticed that he had actually lowered himself a bit to allow better access to strike his face. When the hit didn’t come, he opened his eyes again, ever-neutral. 

You took a step back and lowered your arm, and it wasn’t until you were a few steps away that Tobirama stood tall once more. Then, he waited. 

“Hashirama and Madara… they have met before,” you spoke the accusation softly. 

“Yes, they were friends once.” His voice rumbled like he was narrating a story. Tobirama was straightforward, and the new information came with neither fondness nor judgment. After all, who was Tobirama to judge the way in which Madara and Hashirama met?

 You took a deep breath in before letting a steady stream of air out. The motion melted some of the tension in your shoulders. It was just one new piece of knowledge you didn’t know before, yet the affirmation of your suspicions somehow made you feel slightly less alone.

“Did they meet—” You only wondered momentarily if you should say the quiet part out loud. — “Were they like us? The way we met?”

“I suppose,” Tobirama answered. “Although—” He glanced away for a moment that barely caused a pause in his words before meeting your eyes once again. —- “I hardly believe that the two of them were doing anything like… what we were doing.” 

You quickly tore your gaze away.

“You have become bitter and vulgar.”

“It is simply the truth.”

The small stream continued to trickle behind you, and the sound of water pouring over water was a constant background noise to your aimless conversation. You took another deep breath. 

“You have more,” Tobirama said. Aside from the few times you had witnessed his temper, you found that Tobirama tried to hold things close to his chest. This included the question behind his simple, three-letter sentence. You wondered, during the time between him talking and you answering, if it was because of his temper that he tried to keep so stoic.

“While Madara certainly seems confident that the Senju will not betray us, I would like a safety net.”

“The Senju have no intentions of betraying the Uchiha,” Tobirama put plainly and curtly. He pushed back on you a bit more forcefully this time, red irises boring into you. “Might I remind you that Hashirama took the initiative and spared the Uchiha—”

“I do not truly care for the minutia.” You didn’t know the whole story, but you weren’t about to let Tobirama know that.

“Well, you should.” The corner of his lips twitched downward slightly, but he gave little else. “If you are to engage in these negotiations, I would advise you to keep the details in mind.” 

“It does not take a genius to realize that the Uchiha are perceived as a threat to be undermined during negotiations.”

“We are the wrong people to be having these discussions.” His words came out more like a sigh, despite the mounting pressure of your exchange.

Tobirama shook his head, melting a bit into a more relaxed stance as he did. He was certainly still tense, but the deflating of his shoulders only highlighted the stress that had filled them moments ago. 

“Hashirama has no intention of acting in any other way than good faith. He and your clan head want this village to become a reality the most, you know,” he said.

Tobirama waited for you to respond, pursing his lips inward. He nodded a few times as if something else was on his mind. The time that passed when you didn’t respond appeared to make him restless.

“Your people will defend themselves as much as you will collaborate with others,” he continued. “It is truly not so different than any other negotiation you have done. Perhaps even similar to that of your alliances with the Fuma and the Hagoromo.”

“Most certainly,” you said, vaguely recalling the exchange of sake cups between the two allied clan heads with little other discourse. The Uchiha had, after all, been the most powerful force in the area, and an alliance saved both clans from being pushed from their territories. They had little to stand on other than a few generations of goodwill and Madara’s favor.

“I am confident the proposal that Madara has written up is a strategy that will give every scribe a run for their coin indeed,” Tobirama huffed begrudgingly.

“Most certainly.” You nodded, wondering if you had missed word about a monetary fee. You didn’t quite understand him. It must have been a Senju turn of phrase.

The stream continued to babble in the background. The night only seemed to grow darker, almost completely enveloping the lone lantern that glowed at the far end of the compound. Even so, the light was enough to make out the bare minimum of your surroundings, and your superior vision made up for the rest. Tobirama didn’t appear bothered by the lack of light. You wondered if he felt just as nostalgic meeting in the dark as you did. 

“Madara does not have a plan, does he?”

“Most certainly not.” You probably shouldn’t have answered so honestly, especially in the context of the negotiations and your long, strained history with Tobirama Senju, but he was going to deduce it either way. “That is why I am here.”

Tobirama’s bottom lip tensed. You could tell he was trying to fight a disdainful scowl. He wasn’t doing a great job. 

“Did my brother not already pay a visit to the Uchiha dwellings?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Did I not already try offering you my deepest apologies—” You hummed in confirmation. — “To which you had refused?”

“You can offer your apologies in a different way—you know politics and formalities. You are good with your words. Seeing you at the unity banquet was enough to know this.” You squared your shoulders, tilting your chin up. Your gaze drifted away momentarily as you fished for the documents in your robes. “You may offer your apologies by assisting the Uchiha in formulating a compelling proposal—”

“Absolutely not.”

— “That will ensure our fair share of resources and land in the unified village. And the Senju will back us on the matters we pursue.” You held out the notes you took. Tobirama barely craned his neck to glance at them before he crossed his arms over his chest. “That is how you can repent for laying your hands on me… and for striking down Izuna.”

Tobirama’s piercing gaze flickered up to yours. He apparently gave up his efforts to suppress his scowl. 

“You are absolutely mad.”

“I believe that I am being fairly calm.”

He leaned forward, bending slightly at the waist. His arms were still coiled over his chest.

“You are absolutely out of your head,” Tobirama corrected, gesturing to his temple before returning to his upright position. You understood that one. Tobirama nearly waved you off then and there. “You know that what you demand is impossible, just as much as it is ethically dubious. You cannot expect this of me with any ounce of true seriousness. This is all not to mention that the thing you hold is hardly even a proposal! They, they— they are scribbles at best.”

“If your answer is no, then perhaps your clan— as well as the others— should be aware of your actions,” you snapped, pulling out the weapon that Tobirama was waiting all this time to hear. “The Uchiha are out of their league. I would rather utilize your skillset than cause waves amongst the clans, but I will do so if I must.”

“If that is what you deem appropriate, then so be it,” Tobirama spoke sharply. A pang reverberated throughout your chest. He had called your bluff. “Actions have consequences, and I am ready to atone for my own.” 

“I am presenting a way for you to now.”

“I would have much preferred if you struck me if I can speak candidly,” Tobirama muttered. He shifted where he stood, shaking his head. His shoulder jerked back to adjust the way his robes sat. “I cannot play advisor for Madara. I apologize; I cannot do this for you… There are boundaries for these things.”

Tobirama spoke in the way he always did: neutrally, resigned, and lacking in true harshness despite the nature of his words. He stared at you, once again waiting for you to speak. 

“Well then,” you spoke, having little clue what was actually going to come out of your mouth next. You stood a bit straighter, steeling your resolve. You placed a hand over your chest. “Play advisor to me. Review what I have written. Ensure that Hashirama supports it by daylight.”

Tobirama said nothing as he quirked an eyebrow. And slowly, his cold exterior began to crack from the brows down. He snorted, his shoulders bouncing as his head dropped into an amused swivel. 

You hardly noticed how your breath hitched or when you began holding it. But when the air left your chest, it did so with a stuttering, burning huff. The hiccups between the stream of air held the remaining face you held. 

And not one to be laughed at, you turned to leave.

Tobirama only spoke as you began to march away.

“Alright.”

The singular word made you freeze in your tracks. Tobirama’s head dipped again somewhere behind you, bobbing a few times as his arms uncoiled and his hands found his hips. By the time you turned around, Tobirama’s mouth had formed a tight line, barely restraining the amused smirk that tugged at his cheeks. 

“Pardon?” You blinked.

“Alright,” he repeated, the semblance of a smile melting into a serious expression once more. “My debt is to you, not Madara,” he hummed with a bounce of his brows. “I will take a look at your drafts as long as they were written by you.” Tobirama nodded in affirmation, gesturing toward you to accent his counteroffer.

You breathed in, an awful pang reverberating through your chest. Overcome by a moment of pure instinct and guts, you hadn’t thought he’d take you seriously. 

Wait—

“And you are aware that I know nothing of politics!” You gulped, a part of you thinking that perhaps Tobirama would revoke his consent in favor of your earlier proposition. 

What were you thinking?

“Not much less than Madara from your explanation,” Tobirama muttered with another bounce of his light eyebrows. 

“That is different!” you snapped. “Madara is at least a—” 

The sight of Tobirama’s narrowing eyes made you falter. They moved almost independently of the rest of his face, shrinking inward in scrutiny before returning to their original size. It all happened with one subtle beat, but it was enough to throw you off your train of thought.

Seeming to sense your hesitation, Tobirama continued,

“You have put these ideas belonging to Madara to paper. Continue to do this. Probe him for details, granted he has them, and have the draft approved by Madara. I will assist you in polishing the final product.” Tobirama nodded, almost seeming to warm up the idea in real time as the corner of his mouth dipped in thought. “The Uchiha will receive what they fight for— I cannot make guarantees— but in terms of atonement, I agree to guide your strategy.”

Your strategy. He spoke as if you were some military officer.

“It is a deal.” You didn’t give yourself time to think. You couldn’t afford it, and if you changed your mind later, you were sure you could burn that bridge when you got to it. He was giving you exactly what you wanted, after all. You had little room to complain after the fact.

You offered Tobirama a nod, wanting little else than to retreat. But when you turned on your heel to disappear into the night, Tobirama called your name. 

It spilled from his lips in an almost questioning tone, as if he had something to add, but the fact that he had called you at all made you stop in your tracks. The syllables sounded weird coming from him, and it occurred to you that it was the first time you heard him speak your name in years. 

You turned, your heart beating heavily and steady in your chest as you met Tobirama’s eye. He cleared his throat.

“The blackmail—” His head dipped as if you were trying to hide the way his lips contorted into a slight smile before his gaze returned to yours. —“It was a nice touch.”

Your voice stalled in your throat.

“I am sure that it will make you think twice the next time you are about to behave brutishly,” you oped with a frown. It was officially too late in the night for further repartee. 

“Certainly it shall.” Tobirama bowed his head, and when he looked up, you were gone.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Part of me wanted to make everything up until now split into Act I and Act II, with this section being maybe Act II or III. Because it feels like a different story, doesn't it? And it feels like it's just starting. This is where the crux of what I wanted to write is actually coming which is crazy. Go figure... 11 chapters of set up.

A recommendation for the Madara fans; The Head, The Neck (Madara x Reader) reads like an alternate universe in which you let Madara marry you. Unfortunately, 'tis only a oneshot. Foul Creature did have a sister series that also took place in the village negotiations and featured Madara as the main love interest. However, I don't think I'll drop the link to that since I don't have plans to update it anytime soon.

I think I'm going to set a loftier goal for the next chapter. I miss Yonji and want to write a chapter of ... And the Beast before chapter 12 of this series. This one is also so long it should be enough content to hold everyone over. Let's set it at 100 likes and 50 reblogs, no restrictions. See you later.

Tag list: @gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake @frvv

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Full chapter list: Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X

[snuggleboots]

₊˚♡˚₊ The Akatsuki, communicating their love ₊˚♡˚₊

₊˚♡˚₊ feat. Itachi, Kisame, Kakuzu, and Hidan ₊˚♡˚₊

Tags: Fluff, mishmash of random headcanons, general cutesy relationship stuff.

♡ Kisame communicates his love in various ways, but it's always most sincere in the little things he does. If you're both walking up a flight of stairs, he'll always walk behind, just so he can steal a kiss without having to lean down a bit to reach you. Usually, he'll follow that up with a stupid little, 'How's it feel to be the tall one for once?'

♡ He's a man who likes to sleep in, but when you're sleeping with him, it's his god-given duty to wake you up with some combination of stupid, sleepy shenanigans. It typically starts with some needlessly aggressive cuddling while he's waking up, which becomes a smattering of kisses and little nips dealt wherever he can reach, and eventually develops into... either cackling over your groggy irritation or moving into a little extra lovin', if you feel up to it.

♡ Cuteness aggression is a real thing, and it's his curse. If your tongue pokes out just a little bit when you're thinking hard or focused on something, if you flex your toes like a little cat when you stretch, or purse your lips when you're frustrated - he's gonna bite you. Always does. He can't help it, he gets the impulse to squish you, bite you, pinch, or bully you a little bit when you're minding your business, doing things that he finds objectively precious. You make his teeth itch when he catches you off guard, and you flash him those big eyes, and- UGH.

♡ Now, he isn't the perfect listener by any means, but Kisame is very attentive when tiffs happen in the relationship. He listens with the full intention to learn and solve the problem, and if things get a bit heated he'll calm himself down and ask you to back up and explain why you're upset. He doesn't make a habit of taking himself too seriously, which really helps him navigate rough patches well.

♡ Your personal space is his preferred space. You're stretched out, reading a book or resting your eyes? It doesn't matter where you're hanging out, that's still just as good as an invitation in his books. When he saunters on over and nonchalantly plonks his entire body weight on top of you, he doesn't even have the courtesy to say sorry for the disturbance. Nope, he's on a mission, hooking his arms around your waist and just burying his face in your belly. You're warm, you smell so nice, and he's livin' large on cloud nine, which means you're stuck there until he's decided he's had his fill for a bit.

♡ Itachi's a man with simple wants and simple displays of love. If your days are busy and he's tucking into bed before you are, he'll cosy up on your side to keep it warm until you're ready to join him for the night. It's a little silly, a little cute, watching a man like him streeeetch right out when you meander into the bedroom, and unceremoniously shimmy back over to his side before settling in and promptly passing out. That is, however, a quiet little token of his affection.

♡ He's perceptive about things you don't enjoy doing, and especially things you tend to stress about. Without so much as mentioning it, he'll tend to the little things like that just to take them off your plate. If you're sick or in pain, Itachi is more than content to take care of you. Sorry, it's a small facet of who he is, to tend to the very few people he cares about. The man also cooks, and pretty damned well at that. His breakfasts are a cure-all when you're feeling like absolute garbage.

♡ There is such a thing as an 'Uchiha pout', and he weaponizes it for petty reasons and to ridiculous extents. He isn't always just some stone-faced caricature of a stoic, and it's brilliantly displayed when you deny his simple requests, such as relaxing after a long day, curled up on the couch with him when he's having a low-energy, no spoons left kind of day.

♡ Yes, he wants to settle his weight into your side and just be - or better yet, rest his head on your shoulder and soak up some easy, effortless affection until he's feeling a bit better. (Please card your fingers through his hair, he won't nod off again, really-) If you really have the audacity to say no - and he will call it that - you're going to see him purse his lips, pinch his brows and angle his face away from you like some kind of disappointed housecat. 'You make me lonely', he'll halfheartedly mumble, because it's a guilt trip that works and he's fully aware of that fact. No, he does not feel bad about it, either.

♡ Kakuzu's 'love language' exists in subtle acts of service and physical touch, generally shared in private. No, he's not going to say he loves you, but he can show you that your presence doesn't irritate the part of his brain that makes him want to shove his fist through someone's skull.

♡ When the seasons turn and you inevitably wind up freezing cold every goddamn night, he's content to settle beside you on the couch and tuck your chilly feet under his leg while he unwinds with a good book. There's no need to fill the silence, just let it be and enjoy the moment. You're cosy, he's relatively happy, and for all intents and purposes, you two are set to have a wonderful, quiet night.

♡ And since Kakuzu's a habitual early riser, you're typically still snoring long after he's up and ready for the day. When it's time for him to get up and get dressed, he'll flop his blanket - because he sure as hell doesn't share one - over your head before he turns on the light to get dressed. When he's done and the light's out he'll pull it down and be on his way without having disturbed your sleep.

♡ On the odd time that you're waking up with him, he'll slip by while you're getting dressed and steal a kiss to your shoulder.

♡ When his nail polish is chipped and it's time to reapply, he'll let you do it. For one, it's less for him to do, but! It's also a little token of trust on his part to toss you the polish, plop his hand in your lap, and grumble something like, 'Don't paint my damn fingers this time'. You probably still manage to flood his cuticles, which he will grumble about, but it's the thought that counts.

♡ Hidan's love can sometimes be compared to that of a fat, obnoxious housecat. If he's off-duty when you're trying to enjoy some free time, he is firmly wedged up your ass because he likes attention and you actually listen to him when he talks about... whatever's bouncing around in his head.

♡ Lounging on the couch when he's just coming in from a month on the road? Haha, sucks to be you actually, because he's instantly ripping through the living room at terminal velocity, with full intentions of divebombing your sorry ass before you have the chance to scramble up and evade him. You're still wheezing from impact, and this guy's already launching into a tirade about every little gripe he's had about his mission. 'Kakuzu was a dick, the ration bars taste like shit, the coil broke on my scythe and, and, and...'

♡ Hidan loves a good late-night hangout, so he's usually around to burn time with you when you can't sleep. Even when you don't feel like talking, he always fills the silence himself by chatting your ear off about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's just life stuff, other times it's his interests - and often, he'll animorph into a used cars salesman for Jashinism. You expect it, he loves that you actually listen and engage with him.

♡ 'You only get to die if you lived, no matter how great or shitty your life was, get it? Seeing the end is a privilege', he'll mutter into the lip of a half-full mug. When you're tired at the table, jolting upright after accidentally dozing off for the fifth time during his proselytizing, Hidan will slide you a cup of something that'll keep you fucking wired for the night. It's not to be a dick, obviously, but you're listening! And this is important shit! 'Diseased, crippled, or fuckin'... broke; at the end of the day, you're alive, and your pain's recognised by Lord Jashin. Suffering is a gift imparted, that only the living receive, and...' something something Jashin is great, and you should probably definitely convert.

♡ He's claimed half of your bed, and sleeping with him fucking sucks. He sleeps like a starfish and steals the blankets, and you're not waking him up unless you feel like investing some serious effort into doing so. He snores, and on the nights that he winds up sleeping half on top of you, you have to deal with the fact that he drools like a dog and sleeps with his mouth hanging open. You don't wanna deal with that? Tough shit, you're comfy, and somehow your bed is just waaaaay better than his. Okay? Okay.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello🎀Can I request Tobirama,Madara,Itachi,Shisui,Sasuke,Pein,kakashi and Obito with a darling that tries to escape often?Thank you 🧸

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, paranoia, gaslighting, controlling behavior, mind break, violence, punishment, isolation, abduction, death

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Darling tries to escape often

Madara Uchiha

🌑​Whilst Madara could easily put a stop to those futile and silly antics of yours, he decides to entertain them instead. Much to the dismay of the elder of his clan who can only view your impudent behavior with discomposure as the spouse of Madara Uchiha should know to behave better. If other clans would find out how little respect you show your own husband, they would surely laugh at the lack of discipline Madara gives you yet he is aware that only a very brave or stupid soul would dare to say such words within his earshot. When the eldest of the Uchiha clan confront him about his lax behavior and question him desperately why he encourages those outrageous shenanigans of yours, he reveals laconically that you'll never be able to run away, no matter how hard you may try. He could easily crush your silly attempts to escape him but that would be so awfully boring. Isn't it much more entertaining to let you run around to entertain your little hope of freedom only to stop you within the last second. His confidence to never prevent your attempts is ultimately just a flex of the power he holds. He assures the elder though that if you were to ever step out of line, he will see it through to correct your attitude.

Tobirama Senju

🌊​Tobirama finds himself quickly reaching the end of his patience due to your troublesome defiance. Yes, he understands your frustration and he knows that the abduction isn't something pleasant yet he expected more from you. How long do you intend to keep this childish attitude up? Your behavior is unfitting for someone he plans to marry. The frustration grows whenever he receives a new report from the Anbu that they had to stop you from escaping once again, visibly dragging his mood down for the rest of the day. If you refuse to behave, he will treat you accordingly as more and more restrictions are placed on you until you are forbidden to leave the building he keeps you in. You ridicule and embarrass him with your exhausting antics to the point where he doesn't want to introduce you to his own clan. You don't listen nor do you want to settle for any compromises. One day he eventually just snaps when he receives another report of the Anbu with the most reckless attempt you have ever done to escape. As soon as he returns to the Senju compound, he berates you harshly. Yet it isn't until he threatens you that your family will bear the consequences that you truly listen in horror to him.

Pain

🌧️​Pain is unforgiving against anyone who stands in the way of his goal, merciless against anyone who goes against him. Nagato's clear paranoia to lose you results in Pain desiring control and obedience from your side yet your stubborn behavior clashes with those demands on multiple levels. If you would have been anyone else, you would be dead. Whether that is something to feel relieved about or not is up to debate though. Even Konan who expresses more kindness and empathy for you can't save you at one point as you never give up in your attempts to flee from the tower you are held as a captive. She still tries to somehow convince Nagato to go easy on you yet a threat just snaps as you do it again and again. He has been going too easy on you. Otherwise you wouldn't attempt an escape as easily as you do. He will teach you what happens from now on so that you will consider the idea the next time much more carefully. From broken bones to psychological torture to eradicating the people you hold dear to your heart, there are many ways for Pain to force you into obedience. Whether you see him as a monster or not for what he is about to do, just remember that you are responsible for it.

Kakashi Hatake

📖​Kakashi has neither the time nor the patience to deal with your reckless and unwanted stubbornness. You seem to enjoy giving him a constant headache, don't you? He didn't know that you wanted to have him play pretend with you by acting like an immature kid. If you insist on acting like a brat though, he will do you the favor and treat you like one. Whether he locks you up or has to use chains or ropes to constrict you, your fierce determination to remain a troublemaker remains. Kakashi is far too possessive and protective to let you ever leave him though and his ninken are constantly summoned to detect your smell and track you down. If he wouldn't be so busy as a Jonin and later on as a Hokage, perhaps Kakashi would show a tad bit more patience but time is a luxury he cannot always afford. He has to find more effective ways to force you in line, even if he knows that this will only alienate you further away from him. He gives you one last warning though before his patience completely crumbles, his Sharingan staring through your soul as he reminds you that there will be consequences if he catches you again. Would you prefer a broken leg or the vision of a genjutsu?

Obito Uchiha

🔥​As much as Obito's delusional infatuation wants to reject the reality, a part of him is unable to deny that it is your fear of him that has led you to attempt to flee multiple times already only to be swiftly stopped by him. It breaks him mentally and spiritually to witness those fearful eyes looking at him yet he knows that it isn't your fault. It is the world and the people inhabiting it that have brainwashed you to believe that he is the bad guy you have to fear so even throughout his shattered insanity, he remains sickly sweet to you whenever he catches you and brings you back. The sweet kisses of comfort only make your chest tighter with growing panic though. Black Zetsu suggests that he should punish you for he is making a fool out of himself by being so lenient to you yet Obito warns him coldly to never mention such an outrageous idea again in his presence. He could never hurt you after all. Although perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to show you what might happen to you if you would run away from him. The genjutsu he puts you through from that day on tear your mind apart yet this is reality he is showing you so you can see the world and the people for what they truly are. Do you understand it now?

Shisui Uchiha

🍂​Even if Shisui is the one who is quite tolerant and lenient under normal circumstances, his attitude changes after you have seen behind his facade. He has to be more careful with you from now on and your defiant behavior only makes the situation worse. He is regarded as a natural talent, works for the Anbu and has to serve the vilage. This means that it could take weeks for him to finish a mission and he knows that you would never sit back and wait for him. You would use that chance to escape as far away as you can. It is already a bit of a challenge to keep the current situation a secret from other people whenever he has to catch you quietly in yet another failed attempt of yours to run away and he can't even remember how often he had to have a stern conversation with you, the normally light air around him gone and replaced by silent tension. Eventually he finds himself considering to use Kotoamatsukami on you, his Mangekyo Sharingan ability. Shisui is fully aware that he would manipulate your mind by using it. On the other hand you would never know that and it's not like he would actively influence your feelings for him. It would merely be a little push to make everything less difficult.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡​For Itachi the situation is quite difficult to handle because he knows what would happen to you if you were to be caught by someone. The connection you have with him would never allow you to live normally again as there would always be someone who would come for you to lure him out. It is solely his fault and he harbors guilt for it and will most likely do so for the rest of his life. Yet you are still here, abducted by him because his desire was stronger than his guilt. He as taken a lot of time to explain everything to you in hope that you would understand yet your stubbornness also seems to be stronger than everything else. Itachi finds himself silently giving way to despair because he knows that the next mission of the Akatsuki is only a question of time and most disheartening of all is that you know it too. You're just waiting for him to leave so that you can escape for good. Even if he knows that he has no right for your love, a part of him still feels hurt by the fact that you wish for his absence as much as you do. He can't let you run away though. It is too dangerous and he is far too selfish. Don't think that you will have a chance just because he will leave for a mission.

Sasuke Uchiha

💙​Sasuke has little to no tolerance for the defiance you put up as you do literally everything to escape from him. He is fully aware of his unbearable behavior and possessive attitude that smothers to the point where you feel like you can't breathe but he doesn't care. He just wants you. His attitude is condescending and his words are hurtful and sharp whenever he yanks you back harshly as he has stopped you from yet another unsuccessful escape attempt, his grip tightening with each plea and whimper of yours to let go. You really want him to hurt you with the way you get on his nerves, don't you? You could have just said so to begin with instead of failing so miserably in your poor attempts to outsmart him. Sasuke will put you very quickly back into your place and he does so by using violence and fear as nothing else seems to work with you. He doesn't feel guilty about it either when he spills your own blood and scars your skin and breaks your leg so that you won#t be capable of running away from him to begin with. Stop your crying, he'll be responsible enough to take care of you afterwards. He does hope that you have learned your lesson though.

[tarithenurse]

So soft

Fandom: Naruto Pairing/starring: Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader. Word count: 1100. Content: So much smut. Gentle, soft smut with ropes. A/N: I blame Maladaptive-Ninja. This is her doing and not mine. I’m innocent...except for not betaing...that’s on me.

So soft

Itachi’s face is all you can see as you are forehead to forehead. His breath is hot and damp as it fans your cheeks. Your mouth. Inhaling, there’s the distinct sweetness of the pop and as your dart out your tongue to swipe over his bottom lip you can taste it too.

He’s straddling you, nimble hands guiding the rope around your wrist before looping it around the metal frame of the headboard. Leaning forward like that, he can’t help but grind against your still clothed pussy (as clothed as a pair of soaked panties count). It’s not the first time you’re together but even so, you’re amazed at his size and the hardness and you whimper softly, wanting more than the press against Itachi.

“I know, aijin,” he nuzzles against your cheek, leaving small kisses, “just a bit longer.”

Satisfied that your hands are secure he kisses and licks his way down your body, making sure to pay extra attention to your heaving breasts and the already pert nipples. He bites softly into the flesh of your underboob, immediately soothing the sting before crawling further down. You try to cage him in with your legs, make his descend slower but he’s strong and firm, plying the legs from his hips and moving beyond your grasp.

Watching his work from beside the bed, he strokes himself lazily, making you envious of his hand for getting to touch him when you can’t.

He sees it. But even so he just sits down on the edge of the bed, one hand on his erection and the other finding your covered mound to trace the line of your slit through the lace. Itachi’s thumb finds your clit, pressing onto it and creating friction even if there’s something in between, preventing skin contact.

Then he gets up again and find another coil of soft, silken rope and you watch as he expertly winds it around your ankle and secures it to the corner of the bed.

Lazily, he kisses your thighs, reaching higher and higher until his nose nudges at your cunt and you clench around nothing. He even kisses you there, hos air permeating the lace in a promise of more...but then he withdraws, nails scoring softly down your free leg and kisses soothing the trail until he’s reach your foot and can tie up that ankle too.

You’re fully bound. At his mercy. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then you realize his mistake. “Babe...my undies -” you begin.

“I know,” he shushes a glimmer of mischief in his dark eyes.

Itachi is kneeling between your feet, hands again stroking his cock and the stoking the fire inside you. For a moment he seems lost at the sight but then he grabs your legs and lets his hand slide gently but sternly upwards, massaging you in repeated strokes. Back and forth but constantly moving closer to you cunt.

It makes you squirm as best as you can. Wanting more. Wanting him there.

And as if knowing exactly what you crave...he skips, crawling higher over you and focusing on the breasts. Now the kisses he bestows on them are sloppy and you feel the head of his cock twitch against your lower abdomen, smearing your skin with the silken precum until he flexes his back and his cock nudges at you cunt instead.

“Babe,” you whine.

You can feel his smile against you clavicle. “I’ve got you, tsuki,” he promises. Stretching, his erection presses hard against your core but he reaches to bite softly on your earlobe. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers.

“You!” you whimper, rolling your hips to grind against him, making him gasp softly.

Apparently it’s enough to convince him because he retreats, fingers catching in the delicate fabric of your undies even as a thumb hones in on your clit, rubbing circles there until you’re begging for more.

There’s the sound of fabric tearing, pulling you from your crazed need for a second before Itachi’s tongue traces your swollen slit greedily. Throwing your head back, you push your pelvis towards him but one of his large hands lands on you, pressing you down into the mattress and reducing your already lacking freedom to move.

Hard, short licks to your clit as he suckles on it are almost enough to get you to your peak. Then he adds a few fingers, slowly and surely stretching your entrance and he pumps and wriggles. Within seconds, he’s found the gummy spot inside you, making you gasp and keen. Tightening around his fingers it’s as if your body is trying to pull him deeper.

And Itachi obliges, thrusting hard but slow, each time rubbing over the spot and his tongue flicking over your sensitive clit and it’s all too much. With a moan, you come hard, body seizing under his ministrations. Your eyes are seeing nothing and your lungs are heaving.

But he doesn’t stop, pulling the orgasm out, he lazily keep lavishing your cunt with attention until you’re trying to squirm away from him, fruitlessly.

Only then does he get onto his knees, erection weeping.

“You’ve got one more for me, don’t you?” he asks huskily, crawling up your body and slotting his hips between your thighs.

“Please...” you whisper.

Of course you have more for him...you’d never deny him. But you’re also fuzzy on the how of it because your body is refusing to come down completely and you don’t know if you can handle anything else.

As if sensing your trepidation, he kisses you, allowing you to taste yourself before his lips drift to your jaw and your neck and he slowly pushes his cock into you, stretching you further than his fingers had. Groaning his name, your eyes roll back in your skull.

Then he starts rocking. In and out in shallow thrusts and with a hand snaked between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit.

Your body is spasming. You wouldn’t know what’s up or down or what your name was as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.

“So good,” you hear Itachi pant from somewhere far away.

The thrusts grow deeper and harder. Now you’re babbling – maybe you’re begging for it to end or for it to continue forever? It doesn’t matter because each second is bliss prolonged filling your body.

His thrusts grow sloppy. Erratic. With a groan he spills inside you, forehead to forehead and inhaling each others’ breath. Slowly continuing the rocking, he eventually withdraws the hand and stills, looking down at you with a soft smile.

[mixelation]

Rank gem!akatsuki by how hot their boobs are

i went to rank this but then i was like "but ALL tiddies are good tiddies??" so here are some thoughts followed by a poll.

deidara - i've clearly decided fem deidara has some huge gazoongas, some absolutely ridiculously knockers, and she has no issue styling and posing her honkers to be hot af. also, one has a tongue. can't lose with big tiddy deidara

sasori - sasori is in the itty bitty titty committee, but do not let this fool you into thinking her tits are low quality. sasori's boob's are handcrafted fair-trade artisan boobs. they are THEE most even boobs, THEE most carefully shaped to be perfectly symmetrical. her nipples? perfect. her cleavage? nonexistent but somehow hides some sort of flamethrower anyway

itachi - completely average boobs. itachi has never once thought about her own boobs as anything besides "put these things in the best sports bra possible, ye gad." would probably look hot af in a pushup bra but doesn't know about those and doesn't believe you when you tell her about them

kisame - most of kisame's tits are actually her pecs. yes she CAN flex them one at a time. yes you DO have to get her pretty drunk to see. they're blue. kisame fucks so she does own at least one top to show off her boobs. you're welcome

hidan - hates wearing shirts. everyone has seen her boobs. they are a pretty average size, and YES there is jiggle and YES hidan will let you look. you want bare tiddies covered in blood? well, do you, you pervert??? hidan is here for you. hidan delivers to you. shh, shh, calm down, this'll be great--

kakuzu - like kisame, has huge pecs to make her tits look perky. also wears a sexy little halter top. (do NOT call her top a sexy little halter top.) her boobs come with the possibility of them exploding into tentacles. so. huge bonus for monsterfuckers, i guess

pein - absolutely has pierced nipples. that's it that's my only thought.

zetsu - is a plant

tobi - whatever her tits look like, just keep in mind that multiple people have looked down at them and went, "yep, this truly IS the rack of uchiha madara. completely believable that madara would have that"

orochimaru - honestly probably objectively the best boobs, but we can't study them to be sure because seeing them will give you nightmares

[oh-no-its-bird]

sending this ask w the power of god (airport wifi) because my power is out but i NEED to say this abt sqh in naruto as huohou

sqh would be SO fucking paranoid. he doesn't even remember who becomes a missing nin or not and mixes up canon with fanon. "hmm yeah shisui becomes a missing nin right.....? hmm yes i should watch him Very closely." (shisui is suspicious of sqh watching him closely. what does he Want.) he also thinks madara and tobirama were in a situationship or something like that. or was it madara and hashirama...? wait, since when was sealing like THAT? (like always. everyone looks at him and it's like damn you must have failed the unit on sealing back at the academy.)

i think the system waking up sqh at night only to be jumpscared by the uchiha massacre notif is very funny but. hear me out. random late night ramen or grocery run instead or sumn like that. just chilling and all of a sudden oh FUCK.

YEAH EXACTLY

Houhua doesnt even know who Madara is, he read like a fucking quarter of Naruto before dropping it when he was in highschool, which was 2 lives and well over a few hundred years ago. He knows like, bare fucking bones about the start of Naruto and most of what he remembers is just bc of memes he'd see online that were funny enough to get imprinted in his mind

he got up to like, Sasuke defecting w Orochimaru maybe?

The system is helping out a little by giving him some vague list of "important characters" but then refuses to elaborate on what makes them important. Maybe when he meets people if they have narrative weight they'll glow in his eyes or smthn fun like that? Idk

Let his mangekyou, if he ever receives it, revolve around "seeing the strings of fate" or some shit and its basically an extension of the system where hes able to "see the future" but its just him being able to tell someones inherent narrative weight

I think he'd have a really fucking hard time ever manifesting it tho, just bc like. He's really old. And he's seen a lot of shit. And he's grown really fucking numb to most terrible things. And he's already putting up so many walls between him and "the residents of this world" or however he might see them. I think that it'd take a lot for him to become so genuinely attached to someone that losing them can manifest something like that, and he isn't emotionally available enough to get that attached in the first place

I want him to actually violently bash together naruto sealing and svsss sealing to create just like. An ungodly creation of power that no one but him understands how to work, I think it'd be fun

On one hand I am hearing u out but on the other hand I always found it interesting that, on the night of the massacre, somehow, some way, all of the Uchiha were accounted for in the compound. You're telling me not a single one was on duty? Not a single one was out on a mission? I always thought that was the most pointed "there's clearly something underhanded going on here from the governments half" bc that's so ridiculously convenient it's straight up stupid.

Anyways that's to say that to continue with that line of thought and also bc that was clearly planned somehow, Houhua would need to be in the compound

Then again theres probably shops n stuff in the compound that Houhua could have been going to, thats true

hmmm things to think about

Either way I think I like him not sleeping but like, laying down trying to sleep when it happens bc it also lets me flex the "this paranoid bastard has been going to sleep in fucking armor since Sasuke turned 8, that's wild"

[13as07]

Birthright #3

(Itachi Uchiha Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to CYBERxYT ]

Requested by: My Attachment to this Series

Word Count: 4,465

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Incest (Brother/Sister)

Pieces of Sasuke sneak in here and there

Choking

Name Calling: Onii-Chan, Princess, Spoiled, Good Girl

Misogyny

Spanking

Exhibitionism

Hickeys

Dubcon

Oral (Female Receiving)

Humping

Sasuke getting degraded

Pussy Shot

Voyeurism

———————————————————————

     Itachi's fingertips tug on the necklace around my neck, using it as an unofficial leash, pulling on it like a Master telling his dog it's wandered too far away. His mouth snaps open, my lecture already brewing in his throat.

     "Leave it be," Sasuke grumbles, stopping my tongue lashing before it can start. "Nothing's going to happen if she's a couple of steps ahead of you."

     "Shut up," Itachi hisses, yanking on the necklace again. I'm tugged backward, the metal of it pressing into my neck as I'm dragged backward. I start whining from the uncomfortableness, trying to loop my fingers around the material to loosen it. "Stop whining," he fusses, situating me by his side again.

I'm tucked against him, his hand cemented on my lower back, balling the material of my overcoat in his hand. "Itachi?" I whine, trying to tug his hand off of me.

Instead of letting me go, he tugs me closer, his free hand gripping my necklace again. "I," he starts, twirling the chain around his fingers so it tightens. "Am so sick of your tantrums today." The metal rubs against my throat, making my skin ache as my throat burns from my airway being blocked. "Knock your bad behavior off before I spank your attitude back in line."

A shaky breath vibrates out of me as I squirm, this time from the tingles forming between my legs again. "Sorry, Onii-Chan."

Sasuke grunts at our conversation, rolling his eyes as he simmers in annoyance. "Can't we just eat?"

This time, Itachi rolls his eyes, loosening his hold on my necklace but keeping his hold on the tail of my shirt. "This way," he groans, pulling and tugging on me as he leads the way to whatever restaurant he's decided we're going to have dinner at.

It doesn't take long until I'm let go of, the boys leaving me to hold the door to some Mom and Pop noodle shop open. "Come on, Princess. Let's go eat," Sasuke coos, offering his hand to me. I take it, despite our older brother's grumbling. His lips are pressed to my knuckles before he leads me inside, a cocky head shake and smile on his face as he beams at Itachi.

"Mine," Onii-Chan hisses, shrugging him aside before trudging after me. His hand grips the back of my shirt again, using it as a makeshift lead. "You're mine. You know that, don't you?" He grumbles, pushing me around the room to head toward a booth in the back.

"Of course, I do, 'Tachi," I whisper back, trying to stay on my feet as I'm jostled around. Sasuke does some mumbling too, complaining about how it's not fair that Itachi gets everything. "Onii-Chan," I yelp from being shoved into the booth. "Calm down."

"I am calm."

     "Ya, and I'm the Hokage," Sasuke huffs, sliding into the other side of the booth.

     Itachi ignores our brother, his fingers gripping my cheeks to force my sight upward. "Hey Onii-Chan," I try to lull, smiling up at him.

     "Princess," he exhales, fingers flexing against my skin. He takes slow breaths, trying to calm down from the stress of the meeting and Sasuke egging him on.

     "I need to go potty."

     "Of course, you do," he huffs, letting go of my face to grab my wrist instead. All the calmness from a second ago is gone, Itachi's grip is rough and his movements are edged as he walks the five or six steps. I don't mind though, an idea to completely calm him is already rolling around my mind. "Bathroom," he grumbles, shouldering the door open before he drags me into the room.

I'm thrust into the room, his hold dropping and the door slamming shut once I'm safely touched inside. I stand still for a few moments, fighting with myself over what I'm going to do.

     Slowly, I sink to my knees, settling on the tough and cold floor. My hands mess with my skirt, resting it as far up my thighs as possible. I should look into getting those leg strap things that hold up stockings. The ones with the metal hearts that sit on your thigh. Itachi's eyes might not wander away from me, but Sasuke's do, and he seems to like those things.

     Thoughts of how crazy this is are swirling around my head as my hands jump up, slowly shimming my overcoat off before settling on my shirt. My hands push the material up and over my head, resting it on top of my other layer. Should I take my bra off or leave it on? I think I'll leave it on.

     Onii-Chan has paid a lot of attention to my breasts today, to the point they still ache from him constantly gripping them. Though they mostly still hurt from his rough sucking and nipping at them after his lecture from Daddy. There's going to be bruises on them tomorrow morning.

     "Itachi?" I call, my voice a bit shaky. This is either going to go great or terribly.

     "Princess?" He grumbles, softly knocking on the door. I know he's right outside, he always is. Onii-Chan never wanders too far away from me, no matter the situation. The only time we're apart is when he has an away mission with the anbus. Even then, his crow is at my window every day with a lengthy letter and occasionally a bouquet.

     "Can you come here? Please?" I continue to call, letting my mouth fall open and my tongue hang out once the question is out. I try my best to keep my eyes light and wide as he likes it, hoping the extra effort will tip the situation into the 'great' option.

Itachi grumbles out mumbles that my ears can't make out but his tone is still pissy. "What could you possibly need help with - " he starts, his question falling short when he gets the door open. He freezes in the doorway, hand gripping the handle as his eyes droop down me. When his sights make their way back up my body, his expression is dripping in anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

My tongue slides back into my mouth, my teeth clicking closed. "I... um..." I stumble, messing with the hem of my skirt as my eyes jump around the small room. "I just... I thought... if maybe... you know... if you let me... suck on... on you... maybe it would... I don't know... help you calm down?"

Onii-Chan slides into the room, slamming the door behind him. The noise echoes in the room, the sound making the very being of my bones shake. The sound of the door's lock clicking fills my stomach with even more fear. He is not happy, at all, with my idea. "Princess," he hisses, taking slow steps toward me.

"I was... I just... I thought," I stutter, scooting across the floor away from him.

"That," he barks, snatching my necklace, and using it to tug me closer to him. "Is your problem," Itachi hisses, yanking on the chain until my head is tipped back as far as possible. His fingers twirl the material, tightening it around my throat. "Pretty Princesses can't think. Do you know why? Because girls aren't as smart as boys. You guys get silly little ideas that are of no use. Why should dumb girls bother thinking? All you're good for is looking pretty, making the clan happy, and making Onii-Chan's dick feel good, am I understood?"

"Understand. I understand," I wheeze out, my hands jumping up to tug on the metal of my jewelry. Itachi has it wrapped tight, tighter than before. It pinches my skin as it cuts off my ability to breathe, making my breath jagged and quick. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," he growls, tugging on my necklace to drag me to my feet. "All you've done today is cause me issues. Giving me a constant boner all day, filling my head with thoughts of your titties, getting me yelled at by Dad because you're so needy for Onii-Chan's touch," he lectures, dragging me across the room before shoving me down on the sink.

The counter digs into my hips, my lungs pumping with the release of my necklace to try and replace the oxygen they're missing. Itachi flips up my skirt, shoving the material up before his hand paws at my butt. "I am so sick of how spoiled you've been acting. You're an entitled Princess. Maybe that's Dad's fault, maybe it's my fault too. We've been too easy on you, answering to your every whim, giving you everything you could want."

Itachi clicks his tongue, before a

Smack

lands to my ass. "Onii-Chan," I whine, squirming to try and escape his rough hands.

"Princess," he coos, a hand settling on my back, pushing me down so I can't escape. "I've been more than patient with you today. The more you fight with me, the longer it's going to take. Be a good girl for your Onii-Chan and it'll be over soon, okay? Be a good girl and take your punishment."

I whine but stop wiggling, hoping my compliance will get me out of trouble. "Nice try, Princess," he softly chuckles, rubbing his hand across my back.

Smack. Smack.

"I'm sorry, Onii-Chan. Really, I'm sorry," I whimper, trying to catch his eyes in the mirror. It doesn't work, he's avoiding my stare, because we both know he'll cave and let me off with a swallow warning if he looks at me.

"No, you're not. You've been disobedient all day," he mutters, more slowly circles being painted into my back.

Smack, smack. Smack, smack.

I try everything I can, whimpering, whining, calling for him, to try and get him to stop. Itachi ignores me, continuing to mercilessly spank me.

Smack, smack, smack. Smack, smack, smack.

"Itachi, please," I whine, drawing out the word, deciding to give up on my obedient attempt. I squirm around, not getting far because of the hand shoving me on the counter. "It hurts."

"Good."

Smack, smack. Smack, smack.

"Come on," I whimper, my ass stinging from the constant contact with it. "I'm sorry! Onii-Chan! I'll behave, I promise. Please stop."

"Damn it," he sighs, his eyes sparing a glance at my watery ones. "Why are you so spoiled, Princess?" He mutters, fingertips rubbing against my cheeks, forcing new pointed stings to spark on my ass.

"Because you take such good care of me," I whimper, forcing the tears out of my eyes. I've perfected my crocodile tears, using them in the few incidents that Daddy does give me some blame and Itachi isn't able to talk me out of trouble. "You're so good to me, Onii-Chan. So good. I'm so lucky to have you, so lucky to be your property, to be your birthright."

A hissy breath escapes him, his fingertips still kneading at my aching butt. "You're only saying what I want to hear," he grumbles, fingertips sliding down to run across my panties. "You're a spoiled Princess that gets off on being in trouble," he continues to ramble, wiggling his fingers under my panties, running his fingertips through me, collecting the wetness his spanking caused. "A spoiled Princess that everyone heard whine and cry because she couldn't take the punishment she caused herself."

"I'm sorry."

"Sure you are," he grumbles, tugging his hand away from me. "Get dressed," Itachi orders, popping his fingers into his mouth, and sucking my juices off of them.

I quickly jerk off the counter, rushing away before he can change his mind. Itachi watches my every movement, sloppy slurps spilling from his lips as he watches me redress myself. "Good girl," he hums once I'm dressed, stepping forward to rub his spit across my face, wiping his fingers off. "You're such a good girl for your Onii-Chan."

I can't help the giddiness that fills me at the small praise. I live for his praise, for Daddy's praise, for Sasuke's praise, for the clan's praise. "Really?"

"Really," he mutters, clinging to my cheeks, squishing them as he pecks my lips. A soft whimper spills out when Onii-Chan pulls away from me. I want more kisses, real kisses. "Don't whine, Princess. I don't like when you whine."

A huff replaces my whining, my eyes skirting to the side as I pout. Why can't Itachi just give me what I want? I just want kisses. My eyes fall on the locked door, Itachi's comment from earlier playing in my head. "Do you think anyone actually heard me whining?"

"No," he mutters, sliding his lips against my neck before letting me go again. "Come along, Princess," Onii-Chan orders, patting his thigh as he starts walking away. The lock pops, the door swinging open before I'm waved forward.

I eagerly slide out the door, the craving for ramen resurfacing. He follows close behind, helping me slide into the booth before he settles next to me, my two brothers sandwiching me between them. Since I've been gone a waiter has brought menus and some water. I snap the menu open, glancing through it even though I know I won't get to order for myself; Onii-Chan always orders for me.

As I'm scanning over the laminated paper, my eyes start to wander around the restaurant looking to see if my brother is right, looking to see if anyone is glancing our way in disgust of overhearing our bathroom events. From what I can tell, no one heard, at least until my sight settles on Sasuke. His knuckles are white from clinging to his menu, jaw locked and attention burning into the paper in front of him. My eyes fall further down, glancing at the tent in his pants.

     Itachi was wrong, Sasuke overheard us, and he's strung tight with sexual frustration and envy. My prayers go out to that pink-haired girl he's into. May the Lord help her if he sneaks out to see her tonight.

                     ———————————

     "Princess? Princess, are you asleep?"

     My eyelids struggle to pull themselves open, the need for sleep weighing them down heavily. "Tach'?" I slur, my tiredness soaked in my voice. "I thought you went to bed, Onii-Chan."

     Mom was fast asleep when we got home, but Daddy was wide awake, waiting for our arrival. After an 'inspection' that just consisted of him checking for hickeys - a test that was failed - and lectures about Itachi 'ruining my purity' and Sasuke 'disgracing the Uchiha name' he watched over us getting ready for bed. He sulked away five minutes ago, finally sure that Onii-Chan wasn't going to sneak into my room. He was wrong.

     "I can't go to bed without my good night kisses and cuddles," Itachi purrs, sliding into bed with me.

     "Mkay," I murmur, rolling onto my side.

     "No, no, no," he coos, turning me onto my back. "Onii-Chan wants to try something new before we cuddle, Princess."

"We already tried something new today," I complain, trying to shove him away and yank the blankets back onto myself.

"Shh, shh, shh," Itachi hushes me, slowly peeling my comforter off. "This is something easy for you, okay? I'm going to make you feel good again and all you have to do is lay there. Well, and be quiet. We don't want Dad mad at me again, do we?" I let out a few soft whines, squirming on my mattress but shaking my head in agreement. "That's right, you don't, Princess."

     "It's cold," I whisper, stopping my wiggling when Itachi slides his hands up my legs.

     "I know, but you'll warm up soon, I promise," he continues to coo, shoving my shirt up and over my head. The clothing is thrown to the ground, quickly followed by my pajama bottoms. "You look so pretty," Onii-Chan compliments, his fingertips ghosting over my titties, poking at the hickeys he's littered across them throughout the day.

     His head tilts, mouth open and tongue sliding out as he leans down. His tongue slithers across my flesh, lapping at the bruises and sore skin. Itachi's hands busy themselves, slowly pulling my legs apart so he can slide between them. "'Tach'?" I whine, trying to wiggle away from his licks, the slippery muscle making my pussy tingle and my skin burn.

     "I know it hurts, Princess, but it's okay. Onii-Chan can't help himself. You're just so soft, so tasty," he purrs, mixing a few kisses between the licks. He pushes himself against me, his boxers and my panties leaving a thin and flimsy barrier between us.

     The barrier doesn't stay for long. As Itachi's kisses slowly descend my body, he tugs my panties down my legs, ridding me of my last piece of clothing. "How beautiful," he sighs, keeping my legs spread open as his eyes stare at my cunt.

     I squirm under him, trying to close my legs and cut off his sight. "You're making me uncomfortable. I don't like you staring there."

     "I get to," he mutters, siding down the bed. "I get to do whatever I want to your pussy because it's all mine. I own it, just like I own you," Onii-Chan rambles, settling on his stomach, his arms shoving their way under my legs. His hands wrap around my legs, his fingers clinging to my flesh right, his elbows locked against the bend of my knees. "You're going to taste so good."

     Onii-Chan exhales over my pussy, his breath slow and long as it slides over me. His eyes are locked on me, the ruby color of his sharingans glowing between my thighs. The breath makes me shiver, my spine arching from the chill running through my body.

     My eyes shoot down, watching his movements. Slowly, Itachi's tongue slides out again, inching through my pussy the same way his fingers did earlier today. "Onii-Chan," I hiss, squirming closer to his face before I jerk away. "If Daddy... if he... he was so mad when... when we got home and - "

     He shushes me again, his tongue sliding through me before he pulls away. "Just be quiet and Dad won't find out. Be quiet so Onii-Chan can enjoy his birthright, okay? Quiet."

     I push out a few half-assed whimpers, continuing to wiggle my way out of his hold. Itachi isn't having any of it though, tightening his hold before tugging me back into place. "I'm going to eat your pussy regardless of what you do, Princess. You can either let me and enjoy it or piss me off and keep squirming. The choice is yours," he grumbles, lapping at my cunt again, this time his tongue moves quicker, taking its time to roll over my clit.

     I give in, lying still on the bed. My hands fall, toying with Itachi's loose hair. I twirl the strands around my fingertips, my chest starting to pump with the tightening of the knot in my stomach. His tongue swirls around my clit, constant shocks spilling out because of it. "Onii-Chan," I whine, grinding against his tongue.

     He hums, eyes sliding away from me, toward the ajar bedroom door. Slowly, his tongue slithers down, rolling around my hole, rimming it with an occasional teasing tip inside. "Stop being a peeping Tom," Itachi mutters, shoving his tongue inside me.

     "Onii-Chan," I moan, shoving my hips down. He smacks my thigh, a glare sent my way before he focuses on my pussy again.

     The sound of my door softly squeaking open catches my attention, pulling my eyes toward it. Standing in my doorway is Sasuke, a glow rimming his eyes as he stands in nothing but his boxers, just like Itachi. "What are you two doing?"

     "You're the one staring, why don't you tell me?" Itachi says, his tongue back to swirling across my clit.

     "Itachi, please?" I whine, trying to rub my hips against his tongue, gripping his hair to use it as leverage to grind better.

Sasuke's eyes snap toward me, his nose turned up at my whimpering. "It looks like you're touching Princess in ways you're not supposed to. I'm telling Dad."

"No, you're not," Itachi hums, his lips wrapping around my clit, softly sucking on it as his tongue continues to toy with it.

"I'm sorry. Sorry. 'Tachi, sorry," I stumble out, the knot in my stomach tightening more and more with every sloppy suckle he gives it. He hums, sucking harder as he glares at Sasuke, daring him to tattle. "Itachi," his name ripples out of my chest louder than he'll be happy with, sliding out with the juices leaking because of my cumming.

An embarrassing pop fills the room when he lets go of my clit, the attention to my pussy gone for barely a second before his tongue is back to slurping at my cunt. Another wack is laid on my thigh, reminding me to stay silent so I don't get Onii-Chan in trouble again.

"Yes, I am," Sasuke mutters, his jaw tightening the longer he looks at me, his eyes flowing up and down my body like a river.

"Then why are you still here?" Itachi asks, tugging his head away from my pussy. His tongue laps at his lips, trying to lick off the mix coating the bottom half of his face. "Do you know why? Because you're getting off to this."

"No, I'm not - "

"Yes, you are," Onii-Chan cuts him off, barely paying him any attention. My eyes focus on his hands, watching them shove his boxers down. His dick springs out, his tip angrily pink and already leaking a preview of his cum. His hands settle on my thighs again, gripping them as he leans down, his dick lying against my pussy.

"I know you get off to watching me play with Princess. It just drives you crazy, knowing she's mine, knowing I make her wither and squirm, knowing her pretty lips are wrapped around my dick and not yours," Itachi mocks, grinding against me, coating his dick in the wetness he didn't lick up.

     "I don't," Sasuke grumbles, his voice crawling over the soft whimpers and moans they tumble from me. He tries but fails to keep his eyes off of me, they constantly flitter back to me, back to us, back to Itachi rubbing his dick against my slick, the tip of his cock perfectly rubbing against my clit. "What do I care that you have Princess? I have Sakura."

      "Then why are you here?" Itachi repeats, glancing down at me when my hands shoot up to grip his biceps. Just like at the meeting, the knot in my stomach is building up the second time around, power racing to the finish line. "Dad and Mom are fast asleep. You could be over at that girl's house but you're not. No, instead you're here, planning to watch Princess come undone, planning to watch me cum on her drippy little kitty, and planning to ignore the twitch of your dick."

     "Dad would kill you," Sasuke hisses, his eyes shooting daggers at Itachi. "Like actually, slit your throat, kill you, if you got Princess pregnant before you took over the clan."

     "I know," Onii-Chan groans, his hips shoving against me harder. His eyes flare with a brighter glow the tighter my fingers grip him, egging him on even more. "That's why I said on and not in. I want to see us mixed together, I want to see Princess coated in me."

      "'Tachi. Itachi," I wail, the knot in my stomach getting close to loosening.

     Sasuke lunges forward, his hand locking over my mouth to quiet me down. My eyes jerk up, staring at him as he stares back down at me. "Can't you ever shut up? You're going to wake up Dad being that loud," he hisses at me, eyes routinely sliding down to watch Itachi run against me.

     "Don't care my ass," Onii-Chan grumbles, head dipping down to slide more kitty licks across my chest.

      Muffled sorries spill from me, the attention to my chest being the final straw before I come undone again. "Stop apologizing," Sasuke grunts, his eyes back to being locked on my face. Despite the harsh tone, the fingers not gripping my face are running through my hair, petting me like a dog. "You look pretty when you cum and Princesses don't apologize for being pretty."

Itachi shoves his touch off of me, his arms sliding up to cling to my waist and head buried in my neck as he humps me faster. "Get your own. Princess is mine," he mutters on repeat, his hot breath coating my sweat-caused muggy skin. Huffs and grunts mix, almost covering the soft-pitched moan that spills when he finishes.

Unlike at the meeting, Onii-Chan's cum is almost hot as it spills out, coating my pussy with more stickiness. The warmth weighs on me, slipping down to coat my thighs and butt, beelining for my bedsheets. He relaxes against me, the weight of his body still crushing me. His hands don't loosen though, keeping me still like he's worried Sasuke is going to swoop in and snatch me from him.

"Good girl," Itachi mutters after a few moments, slowly peeling apart our skin that seems to cling to one another. "Such a good girl for your Onii-Chan, aren't you? You are," he slurs a bit, exhaustion weighing in his words. His lips tumble down my body as he pulls us apart, sloppy and soaking my body in salvia as they travel around my torso.

My body carves with his kisses, craving the gentleness of them. "I'm going to go shower, okay, Princess? Then I'll bathe you as your sheets get washed," Itachi continues to murmur, laying out the next few events as he parts from me. "Then when that's all done we can cuddle and go to sleep, I promise."

"Okay, Onii-Chan," I answer, the chill of the house already enveloping my body from the lack of having my brother pressed against me, shielding me from the cold.

"Good girl," he praises, pecking my forehead and coating his fingers through my hair. Itachi crawls out of the bed, leaving me to lay in our mess alone as he showers. When the ends of my hair escape his fingers, he starts walking away, stopping to grip Sasuke's shoulders. "No touching, am I understood?" He hisses, squeezing our brother in warning.

"Understood," Sasuke whispers, eyes dropped to the ground. Itachi squeezes his shoulder once more before floating out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door is closed, Sasuke's eyes jump up, locking on my face. "Let's play, Princess," he murmurs, the gleam of disobedience in his eyes as he slowly walks toward my bed.

     "Itachi said - "

     "Itachi owns you, he doesn't own me."

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[ladykissingfish]

Madara, looking into the mirror: I am the mighty Madara Uchiha. Living god of the Uchiha clan. I am unmatched in intelligence, skill and battle prowess. I do not concern myself with the comforts or desires of lesser beings. I —

Izuna: Oi, big brother? Hate to interrupt your monologue, but Tobirama just sent word: Hashirama is returning from his trip early. He’ll be here by the end of the afternoon.

Madara:

Madara: Shit shit shit shit shit — I need to get started on this laundry, and the house needs a good cleaning! Izuna, grab the vacuum and help me out here! Oh and I should probably take out that roast I’ve been marinating and put it in the oven! And _

Izuna: 

[saintlevrant]

Hey can you please do the NSFW Alphabet for Sasuke Uchiha from Naruto ? (I’m 18+)

I wanted to read it for a long time but never saw anyone write it yet, I would try do it myself but I really suck at this stuff so yeah.

£ I've never done this, but here's Uchiha Sasuke's NSFW alphabet. enjoy!

tw: everything you could think of cause it's the NSFW alphabet. :)

A — Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sasuke isn't a big fan of aftercare. He doesn't see the point of taking care of someone when they can do it themselves. Not gonna lie, the most he would do is bring you a glass of water.

B — Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sasuke's favorite body part on himself would be his thighs. It's mainly because he enjoys having the power of riling you up just from a simple flex of his thigh, as well as the soft fat of your own thighs engulfing his.

That being said, his favorite part on his partner's body is their neck. Your neck is where he can easily nibble, suck, bite, and sniff; he's unable to resist such a vulnerable, sensitive area.

C — Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Let's go ahead and admit that his favorite place to cum is in your face. And his cum isn't thick, but it is very sticky, watching you wash your face twice before you can get it all off leaves him super satisfied.

D — Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He sniffs and jerks off with your underwear. It's not too extreme, but it's something he'd rather keep to himself and never confess to if asked.

E — Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sasuke has very little experience because he'd rather be off training. That aside, he knows how to do a little sumn sumn.

F — Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or mating press. He just likes to watch your face as he hits deep with in you.

G — Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's serious until he starts snorting at your shivering, exhausted form beneath him.

H — Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps his hair well-trimmed. It doesn't matter if he's out on a mission. He'll make sure it's not too unkempt and find a way to keep himself groomed.

I — Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

To be honest, he wouldn’t be intimate, but he would be concerned for you with the way you'd be thrashing around.

J — Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Literally doesn't even worry about taking his pants off. He jacks off through his underwear and pants, fingers frantically rubbing over the outline of his hard cock through his bottoms.

K — Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sasuke isn't a kinky man. He likes to do things the traditional way, not really straying away from the vanilla side. There's a possibility that he might be into degradation, but that's about it.

L — Location (favorite places to do the do)

Although he's not a man of many kinks, he absolutely does not care where he fucks you. Yeah, he perfers to knock naughty nellies with you in the comfort of his bed, but when he has the urge, he's gonna satiate them regardless of where you are.

M — Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

An air of sophistication is what really riles him up. If you think that he's not worth your time, he's only going to pursue you even more. A snarky comment or annoyed behavior will eventually lead to him demonstrating how much more superior he is.

N — No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that has to do with human waste, aka watersports and scat. He doesn't like spit either, so if you ask him to spit in your mouth, he's gonna leave you high and dry.

O — Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes receiving for the most part. It doesn't matter how much skill you have because he'll have you on your knees so much that you'll become a pro in no time.

P — Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It fluctuates, but he's more of a slow and rough thruster. He inches out of you at a maddeningly slow pace, but he thrusts back in so hard that you can feel him in your throat.

Q — Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As stated, he doesn't care where you are; he’s going to get what he needs. So, it's safe to say that quickies are not out of the question. They happen sometimes, but he has the tendency to just full-blown fuck you at any time.

R — Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If it's disturbingly kinky shit, he's not going to be open to it. However, if it's something he can manage, he'll try it.

S — Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go all night if he wanted to. By the third round, you're out of breath, and he's wondering when you're going to catch your breath so the next round can begin.

T — Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't need toys, but he'll get you whichever ones you want.

U — Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The only teasing he does is when he wants to get on your nerves, but it doesn't really sound like teasing. It's lots of sarcasm. Unfortunately, when he has the need to breed, he doesn't play around.

V — Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

A symphony of pretty pants and aggressive grunts that he tries to keep quiet. It's always a failure though, ending in him getting too caught up in the moment and letting out loud moans.

W — Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Truly is the king of ahegao faces. You know, furrowed eyebrows, unfocused eyes, loads of panting, and tongue slightly lolling out of his mouth. You brought it up once, and since, he's hid his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder.

X — X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Do I have to answer this? Everyone knows that Sasuke is a well-built man, so let's just say that what's in his pants does not disappoint.

Y — Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High, high, high. He's a closeted horn dog just waiting to rump like bunnies. He usually has to stay busy to keep himself from thinking about it.

Z — Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Wants to fall asleep almost immediately, but he waits until you're asleep. He would never give you the satisfaction of thinking you have that much power.

© highlev 2022. do not repost or modify. likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

[rayshippouuchiha]

I just got back into the Naruto fandom bc of gacha reactions on youtube and I have a new favourite trope: Uchihas are little freaks who are attracted to people who can and if mildly provoked will rip them into two equal pieces with their bare hands.

Also, behold! My new favourite ship and ship dynamic!

Tobirama "I-Just-Created-47-New-Jutsu-Because-I-Was-Left-Unattended-For-5-Hours" Senju x Madara "Instant-Awkward-Boner" Uchiha

Just-

Tobirama breaks Madara's nose and Madara immediately starts looking into a winter wedding to comliment his future husband's complexion.

Naruto using 1 tail of gold chakra to break Sasuke's Susanoo and literally physically whoop his ass with a single movement and that little freak is already in a wedding kimono bc "C'mon Dobe it's august and we need a summer wedding otherwise your skintone and hair color wouldn't look perfect in the photos and I'm not waiting a whole year".

Touka breaks Izuna's jaw for being a little shit and sneapking up on her and startling her and that man is one his knees trying to gargle out to please give him a chance he can cook and clean and look after the kids.

Mikoto and Fugaku having to hold onto each other up BC their friendgroup decided to host a "tournament" on training ground 3 and everyone is hot. Hisashi and Hiashi are judging hard. Tsume is howling from laughter.

That kind of thing. Just a whole clan of those little strength kink having idiots immediately wifeing themselves the moment someone strong enough to break their spins flexes in their general direction.

Yes yes to absolutely all of this

[acerathia]

two birds || Act II

Summary:

Hanahaki: A disease stemming from bottling up romantic feelings, as these decide to grow inside the lungs and the blood system of the sick person, resulting in flowers. Thus the first symptoms are the coughing up of flower petals accompanied by pain and breathlessness, as the flower continues to grow as long as the affected does not confess their feelings. Alternatively, the growing flower can be removed via surgery, but it may affect the ill person’s ability to feel love in various forms. Or How do you react with falling in love with no real chance? Simple, a tragedy in five acts.

Wordcount: 2.8k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Obito Uchiha / Reader

Tags/CW:

features of a tragedy, hanahaki disease, childhood friends, some degree of isolation, No War AU,

Note:

Please note that I choose to not tag some stuff, as it contains heavy spoilers, proceed with caution and with the knowledge that everything is either connected to the tragedy aspect, or the hanahaki disease itself. !! I didn't forget abt this!! Here!!

Scene I. – YOU, KAKASHI HATAKE, RIN NOHARA and MINATO NAMIKAZE, and afterwards OBITO UCHIHA, sitting between the grass, enjoying the cool breeze of remembrance

The scene: The training field, the whispers of the trees around you, where everything truly started.

The grass blades tickle your wrists as you lean, rest yourself on them, face stretched towards the sun, eyes closed flashing orange. Someone shifts behind you, shoulders brushing, tipping your balance, barely. A pop cracks, the joints of Kakashi shifting after this wait, minutes laying down on you heavy as hours. 

“I can’t believe he’s actually late. Again,” a husky voice starts, Kakashi, his expectations bleeding through his complaint. 

And you can’t help but turn to look at him, his face pulling a straight line to Rin, trying to connect, convey something. Instead, you’re the one answering. “Hm, you know as well as we do that he just gets busy, you know? Teaching a team and all that.”

Don’t you know how exhausting being a team is. Well, Minato-sensei does, but whoever belonged to that team had lived with the quarrels and arguments of the two boys, men. As much as they had learned to trust each other all these years ago, they still keep a hand deep in each other's hair, ready to drag, to rip, to tear. So you have every right to protest and to protect. It’s not fair otherwise. 

His head had turned to look at you, his dark eyes bore into you, searching for something in the blemishes of your skin. Maybe he found something, as his jaw works and opens, but before the words could even coat his tongue, the grass crunches, alerting you of the newcomer. A pair of sandals start nudging your hips and you look up, meeting an embarrassed grin and a hand rubbing the back of a neck. 

“Hey, sorry for my tardiness, the kids wanted to try one last mission today, and I couldn’t refuse them,” Obito immediately apologizes, eyes wandering over the spread group before landing on you. But only for a brief moment, as it jumps back to Rin. 

You unlink from whatever argument is currently arising, taking a swing to lift yourself onto your feet, standing up, stretching until you hear a couple of tiny pops. Continuing with your movements, you work on the musculature, feeling the pull in your calves, hips, arms. 

After you feel ready, you simply grab Obito’s arm, disrupting the heated fight about their ideals and expectations, dragging him to the middle of the field. Depositing him in a spot before taking your place a couple of steps away. 

“C’mon, like we used to do!” you demand, sliding your foot behind you, lifting your hands in front of you. No weapons, no Jutsus. Just raw power, just the two of you. 

The pout caused by Kakashi melts off and a bright, excited grin takes its place, and he too takes his position, bending slightly forward. His arms flex with each movement of his wrists, his thighs tauten, the band of the little bag around it stretching. You let your eyes roam over his shoulders, waiting for any indicating flinch, proceeding to glide over his biceps, his neck, only to stop over his plush lips, still puckered into that grin of his. You feel yourself trip, freefall, your heart drops, and yet you remain in the same position. 

You take a breath, trying to calm your heart down, the beat rising to your head, thumping words into your ears, whispering something you cannot discern. The echo only intensifies as you glance over his nose, his eyelashes squinting over his dark eyes, as if space had taken residence inside them. And you can’t help yourself but drown in them, the stars inviting, coercing you. 

And the taste of iron coating your tongue rips you back, out of that thought. You have been biting the inside of your cheek, tearing the tissue apart, popping blood vessels. Only because you have been distracted for a moment. But you’re glad about it, as it brought you back to your senses. 

So you couldn’t miss the kick aimed against your head, blocking it, grabbing his ankle, and yanking him to the ground, trying to gain some time. But he catches himself with his hands, kicking his other foot, and barely missing your chin, as you let go of his other leg to take a step back. Taking advantage of his open position, you decide to throw some of your own kicks in, trying to make him lose balance. And he does, but he’s able to latch onto your lower leg, pulling you onto the ground with him. You immediately just grab his hair, attempting to put him into a triangle chokehold. To your misfortune, he has a talent for evasion, leading to him being able to grab both of your wrists, pinning you down, knees heavy on yours, pressing on a nerve. 

His face lingers above yours, grinning, gloating about his win. His breath fans over your face, herbs and spices, and your eyes jump from his pearly smile to his crescent eyes, to his arm stretched over you. And you finally understand what your heart has been telling, thumping you all along. 

I love him. I love him. I love him

The air escapes your lungs with this realization and you have to force yourself to calm down, to act like your breathlessness is due to that fight. Yeah, there’s no other reason for you to almost choke on the air around you, his presence suddenly too overwhelming, pressing over your insides, squirming. 

Acting like nothing is wrong you swing forward to act like you want to bite him, or to headbutt him. Thankfully he takes the hint and he releases you from his hold, flopping onto the grass beside you. You have been observing him, and you don’t miss the way his eyes immediately jump to Rin, and the echo in your head gets warbled, wrong. You knew of his crush on your friend, it’s obvious, and he’s been looking at her like that for years at this point. And you also knew, the conversations under the clouds, just the two of you, Rin had started to reciprocate those feelings. And who are you to interfere with this blooming relationship? With this you decided to keep the thumping of your heart a secret, may it travel along your veins and unfurl between your bones, until it withered with time. 

You stay laying on the ground, watching as Obito finally stands up to join Rin, both their smiles brilliant under the shining sun, complementing each other, eyes roaming and accepting. With a snort you avert your eyes, staring at the clouds passing by. Of course you won’t tell, won’t even think about whispering those words to him, your pride heavier than the echo between your ribs. Your friendship heavier, your dignity heavier. You don’t dare think about the repercussions of these simple words, what could shatter, what could break. You aren’t even sure how you would handle the rejection, the rejection which is certain as the grass beneath your fingertips. 

Something nudges your ribs and your gaze wanders to the source. Grey hair meets you, not the ones you want to see, but you grin nonetheless, heaving yourself into a seated position. 

“What? You wanna make fun of me for losing?” you ask with a small giggle, aware he wouldn’t outright do so. Rather he would simply tell you what you did wrong, maybe offer you to show you how to execute whatever move he explained to you. 

But he just sighs, shaking his head. “Let’s fight.” Was the only thing he says, cocking his head to tell you to stand up. And you do, you’re almost glad for the distraction, and you wonder if he has noticed something, but his gaze to the conversation at the edge of the field tells you something else. 

You bump slightly into him, bringing him back to the current situation, exchanging a quick look, to which he frowns. You don’t give him enough time to truly grasp the situation and get into position at the other end of the field. He eventually does too. 

This fight is more intense, as you could concentrate a bit tiny better, than you earlier had. Doesn’t mean you necessarily win, rather Kakashi actually used the same move you wanted to use, to end this fight, indirectly showing you how to actually carry it out without worrying about slippery enemies. You have to tap out of the chokehold because you knew if he had been serious, you would be passed out by now. 

He releases you and you just flop, going limp on top of him. A scoff escapes him, the equivalent of a giggle for him, before he shoves you off not ungently. Your face meets the sandy ground and you close your mouth to not inhale any grains, and you had no other choice but to actually move and roll around. In this movement you catch sight of the pair still deep in their conversation, his hand on her knee, her body leaned towards him. 

A sudden urge to cough overwhelms you, and you clear your throat. It seems like you still inhaled some sand. You raise to your feet to grab some water, helping with the tickle at the back of your throat. While you were almost drowning in your water, Kakashi had joined the other two, vying for her attention in his own way. And you can’t help but snort, surpressing a laugh. Then your eyes meet Minato-sensei’s, his eyes laughing and yet overwhelmed, almost like the very first day he met that particular group. And now you can’t help but giggle, the tickle in your lungs just bursting out, almost forgetting everything troubling you, almost feeling like a little kid again. 

So you quickly join the group, leaping at Obito���s back, trying to convince him to carry you to Ichirakus, and he’s attempting to throw you off, complaining about how you always make him carry you, and how you never carry him, how about that?

That’s how you end up jumping off, grabbing him and throwing him over your shoulder, despite his larger frame. You laugh and just begin walking with him like that, answering his complaints with the reasoning he gave you, you never carry him, and now it’s your turn. 

Scene II. – The foregoing, the smell of herbs an echo of the past, the taste of promise coating the tongues

The scene: Ichirakus, the imprints of your shared history, the place where everything happened

On the way to the ramen place, you were forced to put him down, as his movements made it near impossible to properly carry him al the way, so you had no other choice but to comply, at least for now. 

That’s how you still ended up at Ichirakus with no bruises or empty laughter. Because you’re quite sure he would have started tickling you if you refused to put him down, and that would’ve lead to you both tumbling down the road. But you showed restraint and so you both could sit at the booth with no aching bones. 

As usual the boys frame around Rin like a rim from the outside world, you and Minato on the outside, forming concentric rings around her. And you all order whatever you’re craving at the moment. Waiting for your food another argument breaks out, and you miss the reason, but you help Rin and Minato-sensei to calm them down nonetheless. And due some miracle, they actually stop, even if both turn their noses up. 

Once the food arrives everyone gets chatty again, surrounding the center like a magnet. But your gaze wanders back to Obito, his back turned on you, a smile as bright as stars, eyes only for her. And you grin cheekily, trying to come up with something to tease him with, hinting about their feelings in the most obvious, most embarrassing way possible, when you suddenly have a cough fit. Your lungs rustling with every inhale, with every rasp they tickle. 

With watering eyes you try to grab some water, but there’s no glass of water on the table yet, and you have to turn around to avoid disturbing the others. It seems like you’re actually getting sick, rather than having inhaled some sand. Some kind of luck you have. At least you manage to grab your water bottle, letting the warm rest rinse your throat. 

You turn back around to see that your food has been served. Digging into your ramen, you momentarily forgot about your cough, not giving it more meaning than it probably has. And you try your best to ignore how barely anyone had noticed your problem just a few moments ago; only Minato-sensei has send you a worried look, to which you slightly waved with your hand, mouthing the words ‘sick’. With that he reluctantly nods, steering his focus to his own food, as the two fighters are momentarily distracted. 

Usually you would initiate some kind of eating contest, but you feel tired and drained for some reason, so you stuffed yourself full, enjoying the spiciness of the food, the way it fills your craving insides, almost like calming something inside of you. 

Warm and comfortable, you pay for your meal and stand up, telling the others that you’re going to head home. And you repress a flinch, as Obito decides to join you, you don’t know why, he always joined you home. 

So you make your way home, the street lamps slowly flickering to life. And what else are you doing but pestering him? 

“Man, you’re really whipped for her, aren’tya? Getting really bad at this point, ugh,” you act as if you’re gagging, until he slightly shoves you aside, hand in neck, skin pink under the dim light. 

“Hm, do you think she would accept if I ask her out?” he asks instead of denying it, because for how long you two had known each other, he would wonder more about why you wouldn’t know about his feelings. You always have been good at reading him. 

You hum, acting as if you’re deep in thought, even though you knew her response very well. But you wouldn’t tell him, that’s a secret you got, and who are you to share it? “Well, who would want to go out with you,” you finally answer in jest, not able to stop your shit-eating grin from emerging at his pout, before avoiding another shove. 

And you try to avoid the thumping inside of your head. I would. I would. I would

“Hey, I’m being serious here!”

“Me too! You eat like a little kid! No one wants a person who eats with their cheeks.” You stick your tongue out and giggle at him feeling his face, looking for the nonexistent food there. 

Upon realizing you’re making fun of him again, he stops and groans in frustration, only for a grin to spread over his face as he suddenly pounces on you, hands on your ribs, luring screams and laughs out of you. And you immediately start running away, trying to get him to stop tickling you. 

“Fine! Fine! Stop! Please, I will tell you what you wanna hear!” you beg as he has you locked between his armsl, torturing you with his nimble fingers, as you try to kick and shove him away. 

Immediately releasing you, he asks: “Yeah? Tell me how awesome I am!” A cheeky grin sits on his face, illuminated by the moon. 

And you only sneer at his request, just staring at him with disgust until he relents. 

“Okay, okay. Just… Tell me if it would work out?”

You sigh, clearing your throat, your breath tighter than it’s supposed to be, than you’re used to after such a small exercise. And you curse this random sickness. 

“Well, I think it wouldn’t hurt to try, yeah?” you rasp, throat suddenly feeling clogged, but you manage to swallow just fine, getting your voice back. “Trust me, just do it.”

He brightens up at your response and it feels like you stepped into the sun, blinking and squinting. You gag and continue your walk home, which surprisingly doesn’t take much longer anymore. 

At the door he wraps his arms around you, a goodbye hug, like always, like your bodies are used to. But this time it doesn’t feel like every last time you hugged him. Your heart is working overtime, screaming at you, and you hope he can’t hear the choir of confessions. And he doesn’t, as he breaks the hug with a bright grin and a goodbye, before going his merry way. 

And you stand in front of the door, trying to dilute these words into your veins, trying to push them out with every breath of yours, every hurting breath, every tickling, wheezing cough.

[narhinafan]

Wanna hear a weird flex

Hagoromo believed that chakra can connect people, so he taught them how to use and connect it with each other i.e Ninshu

Hinata was the first person to ever receive and connect chakra directly and consensually with Naruto Which makes this even more precious

And let's not forget Minato too!

Meme of the day

I know really if the Pain confession wasn't enough NaruSaku should have given up on their ship after the hand hold scene during the war.

So true the Uzumaki and Uchiha family is a different as day and night when it comes to family dynamics.