#Sharingan from Naruto

[atoriv-art]

rivals!

[slutpoppers]

Naruto Shippuden

[equill]

Different choices.

The ending is still an calamity.

They would fight over different ideals (I love making utter nonsense)

I also survive off videos clips of boruto. I have no clue what’s going on but mitsuki is trying his best

An Uchiha’s Love & Grief

(they wouldn’t get along either)

[no-nic]

the collector 🗡🧿

mementos of dead loved ones

okay so. i may have a worldbuilding disease. this was supposed to be just a kakasaku kiri alternate universe for kinktober. unfortunatelly it spawned a question: what is going on in konoha?

kakashi is born in kiri -> no kakashi on team minato -> another prickly genius for obito to fixate on -> thanks to sakumo being a kiri shinobi a branch house hyuga has a career ending injury that leads to her having a child (working name hiroto) that ends up on this team 7 in kakashi's place... (deep breath, can't stop now, we're saving rin) kannabi bridge mission, hiroto loses an eye, gets obito's new sharingan -> terrible dojutsu drama back in konoha -> hiroto is kidnapped in the sanbi incident -> violently gifts eye to rin (genjutsu & "low on chakra so you need to use it") -> ends self with hyuga cursed seal -> mangekyo sharingan for both watchers

rin has studied hiroto's implant so her sharingan can be turned off but it has the typical bulging byakugan veins.

minato and kushina die on schedule. rin is left with hiraishin kunai (that don't work for her; mostly whips it out for intimidation) and more keepsakes.

bingo books list her as the Collector. it's only slightly better than Friend Killer.

what were you expecting from the girl who collects sea shells? 🐚✨

#pink tsunami au; this wasn't supposed to be about her

[im-still-watching-anime]

naruto: i never know what to get sasuke since he’s not very materialistic

sakura: hm, have you tried thinking of anything that’s more unique and means a lot to both of you

naruto: …..oh my god you’re right i have the perfect idea

sakura: wait where are you going??

naruto: i’m going to go dig up our severed arms so i can give them to sasuke duh

[0rochimama]

i seriously can't emphasize enough how fucked up danzō is to have basically been farming sharingan and mangekyō sharingan to then literally harvest them from uchiha children like shisui and, likely, many others

[everyitachi]

[dark-elf-writes]

Thinking about the third teammate in sharing the sharingan and how their life shaped them. I picture them as an orphan who's parents were disgraced and the dead last of their graduating class, it’s the reason they were put on the team with both geniuses. They passed by the skin of their teeth after years of barely passing but she passed. She, the dead last failure has become a shinobi. Even better she’s put on the team of The White Fang. One of the greatest shinobi alive, surely under his tutelage she’ll become more than the failure everyone looks upon with distain right?

But her team isn’t what she imagined, her teammates are close, already knowing each other so deeply and sensei loves that there already a pack, a family and quickly becomes a father to them all. But she’s still the outsider, she doesn’t share their strange pack mentality, isn't as strong as them and fails to understand her teammates. (How do they handle being hated? Don't they care?) And while the boys soar and become powerful she’s barely keeping up, barely making chunin, scraping by jonin, becoming strong but never getting the recognition she wants from her team or the village as a whole. (Why can’t she be as good as her teammates? Why can’t she be as skilled or strong? Is she really that bad of a shinobi? Why is she always one step away from being a failure? Or is she already one and she doesn't know it yet?)

Then that mission happens and her beloved sensei (Who favoured her teammates more than her, why wasn’t she right for the wolf contact? Or was that just an excuse because she’s weak and he doesn’t want her on his contact?) becomes a pariah and she can’t handle it because she was disliked before but this, this was too much. She fought with her teammates (her brothers) about abandoning sensei but they refused because who cares about reputation? (She does, she cares so deeply she just wants to be recognised as good, why is she always in her teammates shadows? Her parents shadows? Why can’t she be good enough?) Then when sensei dies (Kills himself oh god her father is dead and the last thing she said to him was so horrible) and the village (the village that has always looked at her as a failure, a bastard child who shouldn’t exist) scorns her even more she breaks.

After years of struggling she breaks and leaves the village but is chased by her teammates, who try to bring her back but she cant go back because if she goes back she’ll be more than just a failure. She’ll be the traitorous failure and she can’t take the scorn anymore. Can’t take being so hated, so worthless anymore. So when she knows she can't escape (She was never going to beat them, they have always been better than her no matter how hard she tried) she decides to just.... let their jutsu hit her. To die by her brothers hands is probably the best end she could hope for. She closes her eyes, feels the pain and then when she opens them again she’s in front of a fire with her sensei. She breaks downs crying as her dad hugs her and tell her how wonderful she is and how he sorry he is for never making her feel like it no matter how hard he tried and there she stays till all three of her brothers join them years later.

Just a girl who wanted a place to belong, wanted to be loved but was surrounded by hate and the love she had couldn't pull her out of her own suffering. A sister lost, leaving behind three brothers who wished they could of saved her.

God yes so much yes I am screaming I am crying I am gnawing on this like a dog with a bone.

—

None of them tried to make her feel excluded. All of them in their own ways tried to reach out, tried to pull her closer, but they were all just so different that even when they tried it never felt like enough.

The boys were kind of course, knew just as she did how it was to be made other, but they were forever entangled in their word dynamic, one soul in two bodies, the closest someone could be to another person without cracking their chest open to crawl inside (she wondered one day if one of them would. Would take that final step to rejoin their hearts until they were one whole being again.) they had taken different approaches to the hatred of others, in the end. She had bowed to them, had let that hatred wash over her and change her like the tide wearing away a rock over the years. The boys had chosen to hold their heads high and roar back at that hate, had clung to the other half of them with one hand and heals the world at kunai point with the other. They were the closest she ever had to older brothers (“It’s two months!” “Sounds like something the baby would say!”) but no matter how much the three of them reached they never understood.

Sakumo was always there with a smile and a hair ruffle, rough hands that were capable of so much violence always so gentle when they ran over her head or clasped her shoulder. The head of the pack (“Alpha wolves don’t exist in a true pack. They are a family.) with his sharp smiles and constant praise. The boys earned that praise more often. Didn’t have to bleed and sweat and work for it like she did. Everything just came so naturally to them. Everything always came so naturally to them. The head of the pack, but she was never made for a pack. Not like the boys were. She had been so alone and so apart for so long she could never give herself fully to them. Couldn’t break down that wall. (Not when the village glared at the boys like they flared at her. Not when she would still get the most of their ire because she was the smallest. The weakest. The most worthless. She couldn’t bring them down with her.)

Kakashi, weirdly enough considering he was a child, was the one that understood her the most. The little pup also stood apart, sometimes eyed the others with those judgmental little looks when they did something truly ridiculous. Would slot himself against her side in the quiet moments and share the more peaceful air while the boys tried unsuccessfully to tackle sakumo into the dirt again. Still, even he slotted into their pack, the sharp tongued pup who was already flying through the ranks threatening to overtake her too.

(She shouldn’t care about that. She couldn’t not care about that.)

Then it all came to a head. Then the last piece that kept her from being a true failure (“They placed her with the White Fang? The other two I get but…”) and she… couldn’t.

A sword will only bend so far before it breaks.

And she shattered, catching everyone in the shrapnel.

The last things she says to her brothers, cradled between them with their hands trying desperately to slow the blood that all of them knew could never be stopped in time, are the two most simple. The only thing she could tell them in the end.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

She hears them sobbing when the blood loss finally takes her. One final failure in a life of them.

She wakes up at a fire. Wakes up with a familiar face looking down at her with so much sadness and love. She would have hit the ground, would have fallen to her knees and put her forehead to the dirt and begged for his forgiveness, but Sakumo doesn’t give her the chance. He pulls her practically into his lap (like he used to for Kakashi and even the three of them when they were just little genin, hurting and scared and trying to figure out which end of the kunai to hold) pulls her face against his throat (vulnerable. So vulnerable with her. Did he know? Could he know? He was dead)and said the very things that had been her last words.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Time didn’t have much meaning in their space between. The fire never burned out. They never ate. Never slept.

Still, she was pretty sure she spent days clinging to Sakumo’s shirt and sobbing in his lap like a child. For the girl she was. For her father she had turned from. For the brothers she had left behind.

She stands back from the fire at first when the boys finally meet them (too soon. Far too soon) but kakashi spots her in the dark just like he always had. And what chance did she have not to be buried under the weight of her brothers (what were they all eating that they had gotten so damn tall. Never mind she had died still a teenager and never truly got to grow into her awkward proportions) when they had toppled the great White Fang? The boys clung to her, crying, telling her they loved her, apologizing and she

She finally didn’t feel so alone.

[carrinth]

Strawberry boi. Number 1. 🍓

It's been 1 bajillion years, give us pink-haired Uchiha already you cowards.

@jillamy

[gwydionae]

I get using no specific iteration of the TMNT in a crossover and just making yet another new version. After all, the franchise has had many, many different versions at this point, so it's easy to accept that this is simply one more to add to the pile.

But Naruto has... one. Just the one. So when all of a sudden characters are written/shown to have expertise that they shouldn't have at the age they're being depicted, it just ends up feeling weird.

I get that fitting things into the Naruto timeline can be a chore. Do it too early, and Sakura is kinda useless. Do it too late, and Sasuke's off murdering people. And if you try to set it after the series, the power levels are seriously gonna be out of whack.

But breaking the only canon that has ever existed for these characters makes them feel like... not the same characters. I might be the only one who cares about this, but it really took me out of the story, to the point where I couldn't help but focus on it. I don't want to be distracted from page one of a silly ninja crossover comic.

[scarecrow-in-a-hatake]

does the sharingan give you sensory overload at times?

Maa, how rude. Just because the clan itself is practically defunct, doesn't mean we should be poking at the details of their kekkei-genkei without any regard, hmm?

[iamlostonthepathoflife]

saur true bestie

for me to like a character one thing they have to be is highly hurtable

[no-nic]

got back from a pinterest haul; here's a moodboard that explains exactly nothing about this au

sakura: and if your teammate (not naming any names) is ever deathly injured and you can't retrieve them (like if they are stuck under a rock), it would be for the best to put them out of their misery. also destroy the body, especially if it contains secrets (like the sharingan). trust me, this is all regulation; i'm a bit of a medic myself rin: rin: ...so are we still on for dango?

#momo pig au; sakura explains the wonders of euthanasia to rin, ino takes over root and goes on dates

[dark-elf-writes]

Sharing the Sharingan Thoughts:

What if the “Copy cat” name practically becomes a family thing by the time Sasuke activates his Sharingan?

The Uchiha and The Hyuga could have done something notable during the war where they copied a long sequence of hand signs together and ended up winning a major battle single-handedly.

Then Kakashi starts pulling the same shit and everyone with those two on their shit list is like oh fuck not another one

And then sasuke pulls up doing the same bs and more than a few people go missing nin. They are NOT payed enough to even vaguely risk running into all fucking four of them because apparently they sometimes do co-ops

It’s not a clan name in truth, not in the way clans have become in Konoha with status and legal protection and so many rules.

It is a clan name like the Old Ways, the ways that Sakumo had taught them with a too sharp smile that spoke of how much their own clans would hate for them to know the information. When a clan was a family you chose. When it was a pack held together sometimes by blood and others by creed.

It’s a promise to each other whenever they hear about the ever growing number of “copy nin” that even if they all have different clan names they are still a family.

[freshthoughts2020]

"HERO IN THE SHADOWS" (hoodie)

2 Store Reviews

from $100.00

The unknown protector of the ninja world, sacrificing his name in hopes of future that isn’t shrouded in war & chaos.

[pupsec]

𐔌 、sasuke　ﾉ　you find yourself paired with sasuke, whose sharingan flares uncontrollably around you 𓈒　◟

cw: sexual tension ノ mutual pining ノ Sasuke being emotionally repressed but physically reactive ノexplicit content ノdark themes ϑϱ

He noticed you before you noticed him.

The new girl—quiet, polite, always scribbling notes like the world would fall apart if you missed a single word. You sat near the back, tucked into a desk that creaked when you shifted, always careful not to take up space. You apologized when someone bumped into you. Bowed your head when spoken to.

But Sasuke had seen you.

Not just with his eyes. Not just as one more civilian girl stuck in a shinobi class. No—his body reacted first. Subtle. Wrong.

The first time you were paired together for a sparring demo, he didn’t think much of it. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his fingers, prepared to disarm and pin you like he would anyone else.

You, standing across the mat, looked like you didn’t belong. Your stance was careful but timid, knees bent, hands curled in soft fists like you weren’t sure if you should hit him even if ordered to.

And still—still—

The moment your eyes met his—

Click.

Sharingan.

He felt it burn behind his lashes. The heat curled up his spine, sharp and visceral, like his blood recognized you before his brain did. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched. He blinked once, hard, trying to suppress the activation, but the red glow remained. Spinning. Steady.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi said from the sidelines, arms crossed, voice firm. “Stand down. Eyes off.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Sasuke muttered.

He hadn’t. That was the worst part.

You hadn’t even touched him yet.

And you—gods, your eyes were wide, full of worry, not fear. “Are you okay?” you whispered, stepping back instead of forward. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He blinked.

You were worried about him?

The match was called off early.

He didn’t say a word as you bowed and shuffled back to your seat, clutching your sleeves. He didn’t even look up when Naruto made some dumb comment about “getting turned on in a fight.” He just sat in stunned silence.

Because his Sharingan had never reacted like that before.

And the second time?

It was even worse.

You were assigned to sit next to him for a paired scroll analysis—nothing physical, nothing strenuous, just reading and translating seal logic from a captured scroll. You barely said a word. You just leaned in, close, your shoulder brushing his, your hair smelling faintly of chamomile.

And again—

Click.

That soft pulse of chakra behind his eyes. The pull of it.

He swore under his breath and pressed two fingers to his temple.

“You okay?” you asked again, voice smaller than last time. “You keep… looking at me like something’s wrong.”

He looked down at you—really looked—and his chest tightened.

Because no, nothing was wrong. Nothing had ever felt so vividly right.

Too right.

He was on edge the whole time, and you noticed. You chewed your lip as you worked. Tilted your head and asked if he needed a break. Every time you leaned in to whisper something, every time your hand brushed his arm, his Sharingan flared.

He lied and said it was fatigue.

But it wasn’t.

It was you.

Kakashi cornered him after class.

“Sasuke.”

“Hm.”

“You’re too reactive.”

“I know.”

“Your Sharingan’s not just reading danger. It’s reading something else.”

Sasuke said nothing.

Kakashi's gaze sharpened. “Be careful with her.”

Sasuke didn’t argue.

Because he had been. Every time. Every class, every spar, every moment he felt you getting closer. He kept his hands to himself. He didn't say the things he wanted to say—like how the way you curled your hands in your sleeves made him ache, or how he dreamed once of your voice in his ear and woke up panting, half-hard, eyes glowing red in the dark.

He didn’t understand it. Not fully.

But his body knew.

And when you looked up at him across the classroom the next morning, lip caught between your teeth, eyes hopeful and unsure, he had to look away before the glow gave him away again.

You started noticing things, too. How Sasuke always seemed too still around you. How his hands flexed when you got too close. How his eyes flashed that eerie, beautiful red even when there was no threat, no danger—just you handing him a brush, just you brushing his sleeve by accident in the hallway, just you whispering his name when you didn’t understand something.

It happened in the training field first. You’d been partnered for drills again. The kind where one person runs through a jutsu and the other disarms. Easy enough.

Except nothing was easy with him anymore.

Because the moment he caught your wrist—just your wrist—his eyes snapped red. And you felt it like a wave, like heat straight through your gut, like a pressure point between your legs that didn’t belong to any nerve textbook.

You gasped. His grip tightened. Then he let go like you’d burned him. He turned away, silent.

But you couldn’t stop looking.

“Why does it always happen around me?” you asked him, the words tumbling out, half breathless, half desperate. “Your Sharingan. It never turns off when we’re close.”

He looked at you then, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Like he wanted to answer.

“You’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like this,” he said.

And that’s how you ended up here.

In his apartment. On his bed. Stripped to your thighs, your skirt pushed up, your breath stuttering against his mouth while he laid you out beneath him like a secret he’d been aching to touch.

His eyes glowed red above you.

Spinning. Ravenous.

You moaned just looking at them.

“Does it scare you?” he murmured, his voice low, brushing against your lips.

You shook your head. “No.”

“I see everything with these,” he whispered. “Every twitch. Every tremble. Every time your body begs.”

You whimpered.

He kissed you hard.

Then he dragged his hands down your sides—calloused, reverent—until they slid under your thighs and pushed them apart. You trembled beneath him, naked from the waist down now, your panties discarded somewhere on the floor, your cunt slick and throbbing in the open air.

Sasuke looked down at you like he was starving.

The Sharingan spun faster.

“You’re so wet.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“No,” he snapped. “Look at me.”

You obeyed. Eyes wide. Cheeks burning. You were already breathing too fast.

“I want to see you when you cum,” he said, voice like gravel and thunder. “I need to.”

And then he thrust inside you.

You screamed—a raw, broken sound, pleasure burning hot and deep, your walls stretching around him with sweet, aching pressure. He filled you completely, his cock thick, hot, veined, dragging against every tender place inside you that you didn’t know existed.

He growled against your neck. “So tight. So perfect.”

You clung to him, shaking. “Sasuke—fuck—it’s too much—”

“No,” he rasped, dragging his hips back and slamming in again. “It’s not enough. I’ve waited too long.”

He set a rhythm, brutal and precise—his hips snapping forward, again and again, driving into you while you sobbed his name against his jaw. His hands gripped your thighs, pinning you open. You felt exposed. Owned. The Sharingan flared brighter, and he groaned like it was feeding off you, off your pleasure, off the way your body clenched around him.

“I can see every fucking twitch,” he groaned, pounding harder. “Every time you get close. You want to cum already?”

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Then cum.”

You shattered.

Your body locked up, your cunt spasming around him so hard it knocked the breath from your lungs. You screamed his name again—“Sasuke!”—while your orgasm ripped through you, pulsing hot and endless.

But he didn’t stop.

He kept fucking you, harder now, chasing his own release.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he snarled, voice raw. “Gonna cum so deep you feel it for days.”

“Do it,” you begged. “Please—please cum—”

His hips slammed forward one last time—and he groaned loud and low as he came, cock twitching deep in your soaked, spasming cunt, hot cum spilling inside you, leaking down your thighs. His Sharingan flickered, glowing blinding for a moment as he groaned your name like it was a prayer.

And then he collapsed over you, breathing ragged.

You were still shaking. Still full.

Still glowing from the inside out.

And when he finally lifted his head, his eyes were dark again.

But he was still watching you like he’d never seen anything more dangerous—or more precious—in his life.