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anoceaninthesun · 4 years

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Needs Improvement

Thanks largely to a brilliant suggestion by @shineejeya the Home Improvement AU continues with this ficlet (mini-series ??). This time the renovating teams tackle their toughest assignment yet. If only it was all about the house and not the feisty, beautiful client.

Summary: When Yamanaka Ino meddles in her best friend’s love life quest to DIY renovate her new fixer-upper, Haruno Sakura finds herself caught up in a home improvement competition between four handsome, creative questionably qualified renovators.

(Home Improvement AU, Modern AU, Slice-of-Life AU)

Pairings: FoundersxSaku (IzuSaku, TobiSaku, MadaSaku, HashiSaku), ShikaIno, other background pairs

Rating: T

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, General

Warnings: none really—except maybe swearing, atrocious flirting skills and the Founders being renovating crackheads (not literally, but almost)

Pt. 1, Pt.2

Sakura had her doubts about Ino’s intentions from the moment she showed up dressed so...expensively. The season’s latest denim cut off jacket, glittering top, a perfectly pleated skirt she’d seen in an upscale boutique they went to together, and boots easily worth someone’s paycheck. Granted, her friend had been a fashionista and trendsetter since they were kids.

But, when Ino called the night before claiming it had been too long since they’d hung out and she wanted to do a quiet, girl’s-day-in, she’d agreed. So maybe the pinkette had brought whatever was coming onto herself. She hadn’t thought much of it when the blonde said she’d swing by.

It wasn’t really done, boxes barely unpacked and some rooms still without fresh coats of paint, but it was slowly coming along. Buying her first home at only twenty-two was a big deal, all the years of frugal spending and careful saving, of building credit and working hard culminating in such a huge achievement.

She was so proud of herself, and determined to turn the house into the home of her dreams, one weekend at a time. “Do you want a soda or water?” she called from the kitchen.

She could see Ino on her couch with her thumbs flying over her phone screen, not paying any attention to the movie playing. “Smoothie.” she responded, absently.

“That’s not even one of the choices I just offered!” Sakura huffed.

“Don’t be an ungracious hostess, Sakura.” Ino laughed.

The doorbell chimed, and Sakura went to the fridge and fished out two bottles of water. She raised a suspicious brow when Ino ran to get it before she could so much as ask. Sakura knew she wasn’t expecting anyone else over, but her friends sometimes popped up when they knew she was free (which was sadly less than ever as of late).

Taking the water and setting the two bottles down on the coffee table, Sakura wandered into the mudroom, peering out the window. She took a startled step back, blinking at the cars parked in her driveway and on the other side of the street. Was that...a camera crew? “What the hell?” she whispered. “Ino!” She stomped to the front door, only to find her friend bouncing around, happy sounds leaving her mouth as four incredibly attractive men stepped into her home. And yes, a flood of people with cameras coming in too.

“Hi!” Ino waved with both hands. “Thank you so much for choosing this house! I can’t believe you’re here,” she tucked a loose lock of hair behind one ear and then moved forward to shake the first man’s hand.

Sakura caught herself doing a double take. He looked so much like her childhood friend Sasuke it wasn’t even funny. More like Sasuke than his own older brother did, and she had always thought that their resemblance was pretty strong.

The only real noticeable differences she could spot was his longer hair (hair which stuck up messily the same way Sasuke’s tended to) hanging down his back when he turned.

His lips also looked fuller, and she and Naruto had always reluctantly agreed Sasuke had lips to die for. Their eyes met from over Ino’s shoulder and Sakura felt her heart seize up for half a beat, averting her eyes. He smiled politely, stepping back from Ino so she could continue conversing with the strange group of people.

“So this is the house?” A white-haired man rumbled, his sharp, red eyes drinking in every detail. His unyielding facial expression made it hard to determine whatever thoughts were running to his head. Until his head bobbed once, evidently satisfied. “It’s got good bones.”

Good bones. Sakura had thought the same thing when she’d seen it, and that’s what had prompted her to put a considerable amount of her savings into buying it. That, and maybe a tiny splash of idealism. The location, the rooms, the cute (if not somewhat overgrown) backyard...

“You’re Yamanaka Ino, right? The friend who wrote in?” The next man who spoke brought her right out of her idyllic visions. He was huge, with a beautifully bronzed skin tone, a voice that exuded warmth, and a flannel shirt stretched over a broad chest. He shook Ino’s hand, her whole arm bouncing with his strength, “Is the home owner around?”

“Sure is! She’s right,” Ino half turned and her eyes immediately found Sakura, who had been frozen there the entire time. “Right there!”

Just like that, any illusion of invisibility she had was ripped away, and Sakura stood exposed. The cameras were zooming in, taking in her wide eyes, ghostly pallor and everyday clothes.

“Haruno Sakura?” The man approaching her had a voice that felt like it punched the wind from her lungs, knocking her sideways. He shifted some of his long hair aside and smirked slightly, catching her reaction. She took the hand he offered and shook it, because she wasn’t really sure what else she could do. “I assume you know why we’re here?”

“Bad assumption,” she croaked. “This wasn’t what...I don’t know why...have I seen you somewhere before?”

The role reversal was abrupt. His cocky grin melted into a thin line as his brow arched and he retracted his hand. “You...You haven’t seen the show?”

“No.” Sakura responded, almost challengingly.

The Sasuke-Look-Alike approached with a softer expression, but it did nothing for her nerves. He was just as overwhelming up close as the man she shook hands with.

“We were contacted to renovate a home, your home. As part of a new episode of our show, From House to Home. I’m Uchiha Izuna, and that’s my charming brother—”

“Madara.” Madara introduced himself with pride, as if he had the title of royalty attached to his name. They really were Sasuke’s relatives! Ones she’d never met, and she thought she had met a good deal of his extended family.

Apparently not wanting to be left out, the man with the large presence and abundance of energy came over, his eyes merry even before the genuine grin pulled his mouth up. “I’m Senju Hashirama, and I’m excited to work with you. We’ll get your dream home complete in no time.” Tugging the solemn man to his side and placing an arm around his shoulders, he waited.

“Senju Tobirama.” he said, his tone no more ‘excited’ than his face.

Sakura blinked once, wondering why a brain that could memorize the names for all the bones in a human body with ease had so much difficulty processing this. “Nice to meet you all.” she said slowly. Her eyes darted back to the camera crew still filming. She worried her face was going to look clammy on film. Would they edit out the awkward parts at least?

“So, Ino-san’s told us a little bit, but it’d be great if we could go over what you’re looking for.” Izuna urged.

Figuring it was too late to turn back (although she owed Ino one hell of a scolding for blindsiding her), Sakura nodded. “I’ll show you around.”

______________________________________________________________

Ino flitted around like a dragonfly that couldn’t decide where to land. Sakura did her best not to break into a sweat over the pack of handsome men following her around from room to room. She had plenty of male friends.

Attractive male friends, even. But there was a hot flame at the back of her neck from the gazes tracking her that just wasn’t there when she was around her boys. The crush she’d once had on Sasuke for that awkward period when they were younger, notwithstanding.

“A more open kitchen?” Hashirama repeated. He pulled out a tablet and began fumbling with it, biting his lip briefly. Sighing loudly, Tobirama yanked it from his hand, pointedly turning it so it was no longer upside down, and began tapping.

Sakura smiled slightly. Though they were apparently something like celebrities in the world of home improvement, they gave off a very difference impression in real life. On the other hand, exactly how competent were these men?

“It’d be nice if she could have a bigger island bar. You know, for get togethers with our friends.” Ino put in, standing at one corner of the room.

For all the helpful advice she had, the renovators probably thought Ino lived with her.

“We’ve definitely done some very fun island bars before.” The older Senju said. “Remember the project with the tropical fish tank built in?” He nudged at his brother, who grimaced.

“Your ideas are somehow always even bigger than the clients.” Tobirama grumbled.

Madara wondered over to her humble stove area, examining it. Then her second-hand fridge and microwave. “These appliances are outdated. Anything new we put in would clash.” Sakura took offense to his disdainful expression. It wasn’t easy to afford a house on her budget and spring for brand new kitchenware and appliances.

“It works fine.” Sakura explained, teeth grinding. Who did this man, who probably drove around in a car the same price as the down payment on her house, think he was? To demonstrate, she brushed by his taller frame and turned on one of the eyelets of the stove. A flame sputtered to life. “Plus,” she added, putting on her syrupiest voice, “I know seasoned renovators like yourselves can work around any minor inconveniences the house has.” Madara stared at it, then her, saying nothing else.

Sakura happened to catch the shrewd carmine eyes of Tobirama, noticing how they were lit with mild amusement.

“Without a doubt!” Hashirama agreed, “So Madara, you’ll take responsibility for the kitchen area?”

Crossing his arms, the older Uchiha made a noise reminiscent of reluctant agreeance. Sakura had been friends with Sasuke for a long enough period to decode most vague noises and gestures in an Uchiha’s standard repertoire.

That was without a doubt, “challenge accepted.” ______________________________________________________________

So far, the job ahead didn’t make him feel as miserable as Tobirama had been expecting. Despite the strange newness of the situation, Haruno Sakura didn’t seem like an unreasonable client. They were currently surveying her unfenced backyard, no one more eager to talk about plans for it than Hashirama. “The great thing about how unstructured this space is right now, is that you could do almost anything with it and not worry about taking anything out first. A fence is a definite, but how do you feel about a greenstone garden?”

Sakura contemplated, a slow smile curling her lips as her best friend barely contained a squeal. “Well, I did say whenever I got my own place I’d try my hand at something like that.”

Happy that she was on board, she and Hashirama began to talk shop, with Ino interjecting, apparently a gardening fanatic herself. Tobirama let them chat, busy watching Madara scope out the yard, presumably to see how he’d implement his own project. When he wasn’t doing that, he was boring holes into the side of the client’s head. She had to feel it.

It was starting to agitate him a little, and he wasn’t even the focus of the man’s gaze. Ever since the little display of sass in the kitchen – something Tobirama thoroughly appreciated since quite a few clients were too busy fawning to put Madara in his place–it was hard to tell if the older of the Uchiha brothers wanted to one up them or impress Sakura. More than likely both.

“I don’t think I’d want to splurge on anything like a pool,” Sakura was shaking her head. “But it’d be nice to have something entertaining...”

“A firepit.” Izuna said instantly. “We can do one right off the patio if you want.” He took out his own tablet and showed her a three dimensional construct of what it would look like.

Sakura leaned in, her face approving. “Oh!” Without even seeming to realize it, she gently tugged it from his hands and tapped. “Are these the different designs? I really like this one.”

The camera shifted to show what her choice had been. Though Tobirama found the Uchiha’s penchant for firepits entirely unoriginal from a design perspective, the one Sakura liked would unfortunately be very nice surrounded by Hashirama’s horticultural touches.

Izuna was certainly proud of himself for suggesting it, much less openly smug than his brother. But...too pleased nonetheless. In fact, he had been stealing interested looks at Sakura nearly as often as Madara.

As they moved back into the house, Hashirama and the women in front, the younger Senju traded a very loaded look with the dark-haired brothers.That probably wasn’t going to make the final cut. The show liked to capitalize on a “friendly” if not overly-competitive rivalry, but the venomous sneers they gifted each other were far past it.

They were all supposed to be alright with a collaboration for the sake of Sakura’s dream reno. He just had the niggling suspicion that wasn’t the only thing on their minds. Deny all they wanted, the Uchiha Team tended to shine best when the client was young, female and single. Sakura was at least two out of three things thus far.

At the very least, she wasn’t acting besotted. That was a welcome change. She also seemed financially conscious, which was something else Tobirama appreciated after so long doing budgeting on these projects. A lot of clients didn’t truly understand how that portion of project management worked.

Though, with how surprised she was by the whole affair, he wondered if she even knew an anonymous source had put up a very generous amount to cover the renovation.

Sakura could have two identical houses and triple the square footage if she really wanted it. And it wasn’t beneath Madara to use that knowledge and some sex appeal to coerce someone in the pinkette’s position to let him take control of a project like this one.

Tobirama wasn’t about to let the opposing team break ahead. The time would come shortly for him to speak with Sakura, and when they had that meeting of the minds, he would convince her that an economical reno was the way to go.

______________________________________________________________

It took a lot longer than anticipated but here’s part two. The beginning of the SakuraxFounders interactions! I usually do slow burn, but at the same time this isn’t going to be super long, so romance may happen quicker than usual. I think this is looking more and more like it may become a mini-series (a handful of these little chapters probably), which I have never done on tumblr. Fingers crossed I figure it out. If you’re looking for more FounderxSakura fun from me, and there’s a chance you haven’t seen my oversaturated advertisement for it, you can check out: A Stitch in Time.

#sakura haruno #foundersxsakura #konoha founders #needs improvement #madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #hashirama senju #tobirama senju #ino yamanaka #sakura is already done #tobirama’s getting there #madara should maybe keep his shirt on #sakura might splash bacon grease his way if he crosses her #hashirama never sticks to the budget #madasaku #tobisaku #izusaku #hashisaku

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iambilliejeanok · 3 years

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Scenario:Daddy just wants to play around a little.

Warning: 18+, overstimulation, bondage.

What a pretty little slut you were, trying your hardest to muffle your moans, resulting in little whimpers. At this point you could barely feel your knees, an icy cold sensation replacing the numbness every once in a while, only adding to the tears freely floating down your heated cheeks. The gorgeous mounds on your chest were decorated with black and grey stripped ropes, coming down to wrap around your inner pelvis before coming around your pretty ass and wrapping around your waist, hips, thighs, legs and finally your ankles. The loose ends having been fastened to the wrap around your waist, keeping your lower body nice and snugly stuck together, preventing any kind of movement as you sat on your knees with your hands behind your back. The color of the ropes brought out the coco brown of your skin, the way your beautiful shape quivered, drool falling from the gag in your mouth all making Tobirama’s dick especially hard. He wished you knew how beautiful you looked like this, he wanted you like this a little more often.

This seemed to be a fit punishment for your ongoing bratting, you’re constant public flirting and secretly touching yourself during his very important meeting with his brother, Madara and Izuna finally being paid off. Tobirama sat with his arms spread across the couch, his legs open and his head occasionally tilting to admire the perfection before him. Your body positioned just before his legs, almost putting you between them. He wore his black, long sleeve shirt and some black trousers. His armor put away and his slippers on, dedicating the rest of the evening to you and you only. Tonight was finally your time to shine. On occasion when you shifted or jerked too hard you could feel the material of his pants brush against your arm, causing you to whine in frustration, not being able to touch or feel him on you driving you insane. Another orgasm began to rip through you, Tobirama biting his lip and palming his huge erection to sooth his yearning for you, watching you squirm around, trying your hardest to not fall over from the pleasurable attack. The loud and sexy whimpers forced out of you were somewhat magical and he was a little jealous that it wasn’t him emitting those noises from you but the dark grey, bullet vibrator he had place deep inside your pussy. The way your body shook grew a little more violent as the sharp screams that followed almost stirred him, and just for a little he wondered if he should turn off the vibrator. No. More for the cute little slut he thought, that sinister smile appearing on his face as he listened to you cry, your incoherent pleading muffled by the golf ball sized gag in your mouth absolutely pathetic. Leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees he looked at you, almost sympathetic about your current situation. “What’s the matter my love?”, he teased, knowing full on well you wouldn’t be able to respond. All you could do was whine and cry some more, having lost count of what orgasm you were on. “Is it too much for you?”, he coed, smiling as you desperately nodded your head. “It’s a pity you can’t voice that to me with that gag in your mouth. Maybe you should rethink being such a brat next time my love”, he said, the tone of his voice deep and stern.

He knew you needed him to hold you, a puddle already formed around you from the amount of times you came. He knew just how sensitive you were and that this was probably going to push you past your limits, but he was so angered with what you did during the meeting that he didn’t care to take that into consideration. He’d kill Madara and his brother if he ever found out they’d known about his naughty little wife and the way she touched herself during the meeting. It was going to take a good amount of orgasms and for him to forgive you for that one. You began to feel a little light headed and nauseous during your current orgasm, Tobirama unable to tell with your eyes having been blindfolded. While he continued to admire your pathetic, shaky self, he noticed you slowly leaning backwards and before you tilted he was already behind you, easily pulling on a loose end that unraveled the entire binding all over your body. Limply, you fell into his arms, having passed out from the overstimulation. “Okay now love, it’s okay, I’ve got you”, he spoke to your unconscious yet still quivering self, picking you up and sitting down with you in the couch. “You want to brat around but you can’t handle such a simple punishment”, he mumbled to himself, greatly unimpressed with you. He would make sure to tell you this while he fucked you sitting on his lap, but for now he needed you to come back. He didn’t want to touch you if you were going to feel it. He needed the screaming and the tears.

I got a little bored writing this and decided to put it up here, but I can write a part two if if you’d like.

Just ask me and I’ll keep it in my drafts.

#tobirama smut #tobirama imagine #tobirama x y/n #tobirama senju #tobirama headcanons #tobirama x reader #nsft post #founding fathers of naruto

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years

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Time-Travel feat. Ino, Sakura, TenTen

The short of it is "Ino, in the Founders Era, sees Izuna and makes it her personal mission to Tap That."

The time-travelers are Ino, Sakura, and TenTen. Why them? I like girls being badasses, these three make a badass trio, and I don't want to deal with Caged Bird Seal politics. (Hyuuga just... complicate time-travel plots.)

Ino is the one that is clearly clan, and they make a group decision that the benefits of Yamanaka backing (and by extension Akimichi and Nara) outweigh the potential drawbacks.

It's pretty easy to convince them that they're Worth It. Ino doesn't bring anything new, really, but she's clever and knows the clan techniques and is very good at them, so the clan head (after performing a mind search to confirm the story) is like Sure, You're In.

Meanwhile, Sakura is a terrifyingly competent medic that knows hundreds, if not thousands, of medical techniques that don't even EXIST yet, and TenTen might not be a medic like the other two, or capable of explodey punches, or clan-trained, but the girl is a taijutsu powerhouse that's probably fast as hell because she was trained by GAI, and she's got at minimum a journeyman-level training in fuuinjutsu.

(Also just, don't argue with the 100% accuracy lady. Just don't. The reason she doesn't have a body-count to rival Minato's eventual count is because she doesn't want to and basically no other reason. There are some opponents that a Kunai to the Neck won't take down for whatever reason? Iron-skin, water body, super healing/shapeshifting, but for the rank and file? That's a one-hit. And she can throw hundreds of kunai at a time, so... if you take the 100% accuracy statements literally, she's a nightmare if she decides to go lethal.)

They run missions for a bit, and Ino is... usually the one sent out on field missions, because Sakura's busy teaching people how to save lives, and TenTen is currently the closest thing the Yamanaka have to a seal master--she's not a master, not on the level of an Uzumaki or even a Senju, but she's way better than most on account of village training schema and it's cheaper to give her a long-term role in the triple clan system than to hire independent contractors--but sometimes they all go out!

And... okay, I'm gonna be real here: Nobody approves of the way Ino dresses other than Ino and her girls.

Sakura extends her pants a bit. TenTen's fine. Ino refuses to stop wearing crop tops and short skirts, and none of you can stop her.

It helps that Ino's response to guys propositioning her is to tell them to back off, and then if they get handsy, she breaks their wrists. If they're ninjas getting handsy, she starts a fight, but most ninjas are smarter than that because they realize she's not just A Kunoichi, based on how she's moving, but a kunoichi with long, free-flowing hair, which is like... basically a big "I'm A-rank or better, come at me if you dare" flag. On the off chance that someone tries to fuck with Ino and they're actually out of her league in taijutsu, she has Mind Scrambling or, if absolutely necessary, an ear-piercing scream that summons a woman that can fistfight gods.

(And absolutely has.)

But anyway, The Girls go for a Girls Night Out one day. No plans to get laid, but they want to go shopping and have fruity drinks and maybe cause a little trouble.

They visit a blacksmith at one point, because weapons shops aren't quite a thing yet due to lack of centralized shinobi systems, and TenTen's talking up a storm with the smith about things like carbon infusion and alloys preferences, and Sakura's just standing off to a side reading something because most of what she wants/needs can be made by Akimichi blacksmiths, so she's not really in need of anything specialty. She wanders off after a bit, tells them all she wants to visit the apothecary to see if they have any herbs she's running low on. Ino is browsing examples of the blacksmith's more esoteric handiwork When In Walks An Uchiha.

TenTen has a VERY basic look, more or less civilian who got some ninja training, so Izuna doesn't pay her much attention, but blonde isn't a very common color in the Land of Fire, unless one happens to be a Yamanaka or Senju, and even among them it's not like EVERY clan member. (Or Namikaze but imo Minato's color is actually from Land of Earth immigrants and is a BLATANTLY different shade from characters like Ino and Tsunade.)

Senju is obviously, uh, bad, but the Yamanaka and Uchiha are basically neutral... mostly. There's some tension. Izuna isn't expecting to be attacked, but he's constantly darting glances out the side of his eye just in case.

Ino is... not unaware of Izuna.

She feels his eyes on her, notes the fact that he keeps making faces like he's not sure what to think, and Ino... Ino is of the opinion that this is funny.

She decides to drop something on purpose just so she can beeeeeeeeeeend over to pick it up and see what happens. Ino, again, does not dress appropriately for the decade she is in. Izuna chokes on his own spit.

Ino: I'm gonna be a bit of a ho. Yamanaka Clan: Please don't, our reputation is-- Ino: I'M GONNA BE A BIT OF A HO.

So Ino's fucking with Izuna's head by just... being Ino, really, she turns around like "OMG are you alright???" and lets him see that her eyes are lacking pupils so he doesn't keep worrying about whether she's a Senju, pats him on the back, coos over him, flatters his hair, and then insults his fashion sense.

She is of the firm belief that his expression is hilarious. Flirt Flirt Flirt "but you're wearing that? Really? Oh honey, you should know better."

(Ino pulls pickup artist shit on Izuna.)

Ino is fucking with him, and she is enjoying herself. She's a flirt, she's gorgeous, she's a bit of a ho, and Izuna is a hot, main family clan boy who keeps blushing. He's maybe two years older than her and he squeaks when she squeezes his shoulder and compliments his muscles.

And after all that, after Ino has wound him up and turned him around and gotten him confused and flustered and a little angry...

That is when they feel the ground shake and hear Madara screaming for The Pink-Haired Bitch to "come back here so I can kick your ass!"

So. Yes. Sakura has picked a fight with Madara. I don't know how or why, I just know that Sakura and Madara are fighting, Ino and Izuna are both going 'dude WHY' about their respective fighty person and fleeing the blacksmith to go stop whatever's going on before they get banned from town--because really, they can force their way in, but it's way easier to get those tasty daifuku mochi from that one shop when people WANT to serve them--and TenTen is... still chatting up the blacksmith. The girl is going to get a discount.

Sakura leads Madara on a bit of a merry chase so the fight happens a mile outside of town--Ino loves her more than ever--and there's a flare of "Sakura punches a Susanoo," and by the time Izuna and Ino get there, Sakura is yelling in Madara's face about how he's fucking up his eyes.

Madara is. Offended. Izuna is also offended. Those are clan secrets, and Sakura is just looking him in the eye without fear and I'm like. Half convinced that they want to just tear her throat out.

Except Ino is there, and Sakura called her by name, and they know that names with 'Ino' among the Yamanaka are only for clan heirs, and they can't just pick a fight with the entire clan.

They. They can't afford that right now. Tajima is ramping up the whole Thing with the Senju again and they do not have the resources to add another front.

"For fuck's sake, will you let me go alive if I fix some of the damage you've done to yourself?" "You can fix the Mangekyo?" "Uh, no, nobody can fix that hellscape of a doujutsu without some incredibly invasive surgery that I refuse to do in a non-sterile environment unless there's literally no other choice, but I can reverse some of the chakra strain on your ocular nerve if you stop trying to pick a fight because I got the last of the [some medicinal plant that only grows up in the badlands around Iwa]."

Izuna shrieks and demands if that's really what they were punching down trees for and Madara yells at him to fuck off and Ino just laughs at all of them.

Sakura is like. Two seconds away from putting Madara in a headlock and calling him a nerd. He's like a solid five years older than her and she's smarter than he is and he's a jock but she's going to dunk his head in a toilet, I swear to god.

[Image Description: a gif from Will and Grace where a man in a dark shirt approaches a woman in a white shirt for a hug. Both characters have their arms spread wide in greeting, but the woman subverts the expected hug and pulls the man into a headlock with an angry expression.]

(Tenten is just, she's having a good time with a random blacksmith, talking shop. She just comes out to see all this crap has happened and it's like she came back with pizzas to see the apartment wrecked.)

Anyway, Sakura does some Medic Mojo on the Uchiha bros, Ino continues to flirt with Izuna until he can't tell up from down anymore, and when they're headed back to meet up with TenTen and see if there are any ruffled feathers that need smoothing, Ino declares that she's going to get that boy to propose to her.

"Don't people usually say 'I'm gonna marry that boy' or--" "Nah, I don't know him well enough to make that decision. I just want him invested in me. Whether or not I do anything with that... depends on how well he woos me."

And anyway, things spiral from there, Ino keeps hitting on Izuna whenever she gets a chance, Izuna keeps being Very Overwhelmed by this girl that shows off so much of her body and has the confidence of a god--because Ino is the epitome of confidence and always will be--while Sakura fucks off to badger the Senju into peace by making friends with Hashirama and bribing Tobirama with medical developments and flirting with Touka (except Touka's almost a decade older than her and is flattered but not interested, thank you), and TenTen is... honestly I'm not sure what TenTen is doing except that there's a very solid chance she's sneaking off to meet with Uzumaki specialists to help her build a Zetsu Trap.

Our trio of badass ladies decides that Hm, Actually, Having Bijuu Backup Would Be Nice.

Ino's the best sensor of the three, but even she's not feeling out where the nearest bijuu is, so they go for the by-that-point tried and true method of "Sakura goes and hassles Tobirama for information while TenTen and Ino play cards with Hashirama."

Tobirama does point them in the direction of the nearest bijuu--it's the Kyuubi, even!--and Sakura just... invites Hashirama along.

Hashirama: Oh! What do I have to do if I come? Sakura: Stand there and look pretty, mostly. Hashirama: Yes, I can do that. Sakura: And then interfere if we piss off the Kyuubi enough that he attacks. He probably won't, but Mokuton is useful if he does. Hashirama: Oooooh yeah, I can do that.

Tobirama is so tired but these gals are pretty determined to do the whole Peace Thing and Hashirama can mostly take care of himself, and Butsuma isn't quite dead but almost there (idk some disease or infected wound, it doesn't matter), so Hashirama isn't a Clan Head ditching his job but there's nobody around that can stop him from running off, so Tobirama's just like "Cool, don't die."

Butsuma: [dying] Sakura: [sipping a mixed drink wearing sunglasses inside] Shame.

So they go find Kurama, and try to barter with him about the whole Zetsu situation, and... ngl okay I have an entire conversation in mind about "your evil goo uncle" and "none of us know how to seal a bijuu without taking away your autonomy, but sealing is the best way to hide you from Zetsu, so do you have any ideas on a compromise" and "I can SORT of figure out how to--"

And then Kurama just. Summons a smaller fox. Which has a scroll. And pokes it towards TenTen because she's the one that's Impressed Him The Right Way over the course of the conversation.

(Mostly by being vaguely sparky about fuuinjutsu and easily distracted by the Ifs of it instead of the Whys.)

And once she's signed--which Ino and Sakura are just like 👀 about because Oh???--Kurama nods and just. Presses his snout to her hand. And without telling her what he's doing, he just enters her body and settles in as a consenting jinchuuriki situation. He can leave without killing her if he wants, but he can also just chill out. He's hidden from Zetsu, TenTen gets a boost, and nobody's in prison.

(Time to belatedly note that TenTen was earlier suggested as the best jinchuuriki option since, among other things, she had the least to lose as far as chakra control went.)

TenTen: My chakra control is pretty shitty, but I can fight hand to hand for literal hours without feeling like I've done more than a light jog, is that good?

TenTen is such a different brand of ninja from most of the heavy hitters. Because her main attack is just More Knife.

Team InoShikaCho has their whole human yoyo thing, Sakura can punch gods, Naruto and Sasuke are literally insane levels of power, Kiba turns into a giant three-headed dog and Shino can insert exploding bugs into people, Lee can kick hard enough to make a bijuu pause, Neji and Hinata are... okay I don't have much to say about the Hyuuga, but... TenTen. She's just here with some seals and whole lot of sharp and pointy things.

Founders era, you have Madara and Hashirama with their god-level techniques, Tobirama is usually sword but has a bajillion other things like his Suiton, Izuna has a Mangekyo, Mito has her chains and was the first jinchuuriki... and then, here’s TenTen, with Many Sharp.

Her special attacks are Throw, Stab, and Kick the Shit Out Of because she still trained under Maito Gai.

TenTen is the current queen of "catch these hands."

After the village is founded, she challenges one of the og founders to taijutsu only and the literal only reason she doesn't win against Hashirama is that he has a healing factor and is built like a brick house.

TenTen: Hey, Izuna, if you beat me in a taijutsu fight, Ino might be impressed. Izuna: No weapons? TenTen: No weapons, no bijuu, no Sharingan. Izuna: Cool, I can do this. [five minutes later] Izuna: [screaming]

The triple clan alliance: We will gladly join Konoha on the condition that-- Izuna, internally, chanting: That I marry Ino That I marry Ino That I marry Ino-- Madara, internally: Please don't say that Izuna marries Ino Tobirama, internally: [math meme because he can imagine like eighty conditions] Hashirama, internally: [elevator music] The triple clan alliance: That you put Haruno Sakura in charge of the hospital. Izuna: [internal screaming] Madara: [sigh of relief] Tobirama: [internal cheering] Hashirama: That sounds great! I've seen her work, she's a great choice for hospital management, do you think she'd be willing to spearhead a medical training program on the side?

Izuna just wanted the politics to be his wingman here, she's killing him.

Ino has broken this man.

(At this point she's mostly made up her mind... unfortunately, she deeply enjoys messing with him! He's too fun to tease!)

Ino: I want to marry him, yeah, but did you see his face when I teased him about visiting the Daimyou's court and looking for a rich husband to bring to Konoha? He even knows I'd never marry a civilian, and yet.

(He knows, it's just that his brain is dumb when she is involved.)

TenTen asks Hashirama if he's opposed to threesomes, mostly because Mito is amazing and TenTen's a little in love with her. Hashirama is NOT opposed to threesomes, but only with Madara, sorry.

Ino is just... the queen of self-confidence. I want to include some gifs to explain but there are just too many.

As a rule, Ino wears high collars, but... she might try to pioneer Tiddy Shirts out of spite because people keep trying to tell her to dress More Appropriately.

Ino, adjusting her wrap top to show more of the chesticles: Relax, Hashirama, I'm just taking a page out of your granddaughter's book. Hashirama: [verbal keysmash]

This one twitter post.

Sakura: You can't just use your tits to get what you want! Ino: I didn't see you complaining when I got us free dango. Ino, misunderstanding Sakura's point: Uh, yeah I can? Watch. Ino: [gets drinks for the table and a free dessert too] Ino: See? Sakura: Oh my god. TenTen, cutting a slice of cake: Yeah I think she's got us here Sakura. TenTen: I love using Ino's tits to get what I want. Sakura: No!

Sakura: Why am I the only one of us who isn't down for Ino using feminine wiles for material gain? TenTen: Does it have anything to do with your unresolved childhood crush on her? Sakura: ..... shut up.

Sakura: Was Sasuke descended straight from Izuna's line? What if you just negated his existence? Ino: I mean, his soul still exists, right? Or will exist? It's not like we could have lined the genetics up perfectly anyway, don't worry about it.

Once Ino finally lets Izuna woo her, they turn into that couple that's just constantly making out in dark corners. PDA is over 9000. Sakura throws erasers at them to make them stop. TenTen catcalls. TenTen just. Not interested in being a thot in the slightest, but delighted by Ino being a thot.

Izuna: Help I don't know how to BDSM and my hot wife is a dominatrix. Madara: Sucks to be you.

(Ino being a bit of a ho fits and feels fun because she's also just like, very convincingly an actualized character. If Ino is acting like a bit of a ho it's very definitely because she wants to and is absolutely going to make that everybody else's problem.)

Ino, at any given moment: Did you miss the part where I'm the hottest person here?

I'm honestly considering platonic-marriage TenTen/Tobirama on the basis of Seals And Sparking. There aren't enough women in the Founders Era for me to ship Sakura with one so I'm going to say she ends up living in domestic bliss with a Nara kunoichi.

Sakura: Can I just. Can I just be Gay here? Like, can I just Be Gay and get Big Gay Married and have 2 dogs and lead a prestigious medical program? Tenten and Ino: Of course you can, hon! We'll be up to our nonsense the entire time, though.

Sakura: Well... at least Shikamaru isn't here to complain about Ino being the way she is.

OH I forgot to mention TenTen wearing Externalized Small Fox Kurama around like a scarf.

Kurama: [Gets to be out of the seal and See Stuff] TenTen: [Constantly has a companion around who is never tired of hearing her Special Interest Rant about smithing techniques and what will eventually be Aerodynamics after TenTen accidentally builds a plane while tinkering]

TenTen: I wonder if I could make Temari's giant fan thing work for me without wind chakra. [two years of tinkering later] TenTen: I can't remember what I was trying to do at the start but I can definitely fly now.

(Sakura's honestly lucky that Karin isn't there.)

(And tbh Sakura's only The Sensible One until Madara pisses her off and then it's time for people to remind her that she can't just go around Punching Things.)

When Sakura is forced to be the Voice of Reason she is always frustrated. When TenTen is freed from the responsibility of being the Voice of Reason? Shenanigans. TenTen's defense is that she never got to be the crazy one in Team Gai. Like, she’s still a little nutty, but she couldn’t go all out because she was constantly overshadowed by the YOUTH and also Neji’s fate situation.

ANYWAY. TenTen and Tobirama.

TenTen: Your brain makes me horny. Tobirama: Oh, finally, someone sensible.

I remember that while I was brainstorming, I had "TenTen tells Tobirama to marry her within five minutes of meeting him because they vibed so hard on weird fuuinjutsu stuff" followed by "Izuna sputtering and saying that everyone told him that he couldn't just propose to a girl he liked, why does Tobirama get to accept a proposal from a clanless kunoichi when Izuna can't even--"

The proposal is from TenTen to Tobirama, which imo is hilarious in the context of the Warring Clans Era, and also is done on a whim and is basically just.

Tobirama: [says a clever thing about one of TenTen's theories] TenTen, grabbing his hands and looking him in the eye, her own eyes full of stars and the classic Team Gai sunset genjutsu around her: Marry me. Tobirama: ...do we have to have sex? TenTen: No. Tobirama: Do you plan on children? TenTen: Students yes, adoption maybe. Tobirama: I'm sold. Hashirama:

[Image Description: Stephen Colbert, in a suit, dramatically crying at the camera. He has running mascara, and the caption says “I just feel like my heart is going to burst because it’s full of rainbows.” End Description.]

They're Nerd-married and it's the best.

I love the idea of Hashirama just being an Elevator Music Mind when it comes to Tobirama and TenTen. Like. An orange cat. Like, okay, yes Minato is the Hokage with the orange cat energy. And Hashirama is usually golden retriever energy.

But when it comes to Tobirama and TenTen, Hashirama is completely oblivious to their intention to do such things as Raise The Dead For Science.

They're not even raising a specific person for a specific reason, they're just vibing Super Hard and haven't slept enough and forgot this is a bad idea. Got so obsessed with "Can we" that they forgot "should we."

(And I feel like Kurama just encourages them like a chaos entity.)

Tobirama: It was a theoretical exercise. Hashirama, gesturing at the zombie army trying to eat its way out of a Mokuton Cage: !!!! Tobirama: We realized it didn't need to stay theoretical. TenTen: In our defense, we were left unsupervised. Tobirama: It's true, we were.

Sakura: TenTen! I expected better of you! TenTen, with sincere confusion: Why? Sakura: ... TenTen: Like you knew my team, and my sensei, and also I agreed to help you go back in time and alter the past.

Overall.......

Ino: [here to fluster her pretty boy husband] TenTen: [got platonic married to a necromancer who shares some special interests and hyperfocuses with her] Sakura: [just wants 2.5 kids and a steady paycheck as she runs a world-changing medical program]

Anyway

Back to TenTen being Wild.

[Image Description: TenTen in her Shippudent outfit, which is calf-length red pants and a white qipao top with red trim, turning on the spot while flourishing a pair of scrolls that expel weaponry on her command. End description.]

I like to imagine TenTen has an abundance of common sense, but she just never, ever applies it to herself. She can only common sense when other people present her with their problems. TenTen: What if I combined Ribbon dances with the noble art of YEET, then made it into a fighting style?

"I've got 99 problems and all of them can be solved with sharp and pointy objects."

[This section of the brainstorming is removed on account of being deeply inappropriate for a post that should max out at rated M. Just know that Ino and Izuna are freaks, and TenTen and Tobirama are enablers.]

BACK TO TENTEN BEING ABSURD

Tobirama: Ugh, I can't match Hashirama's energy levels for another entire day. TenTen, a member of Team Gai: I can do it. Tobirama: Hashirama is literally inhumanly happy and-- TenTen: No, no, I got this.

(You have no idea how much practice she has at this Tobirama, no idea.)

Tobirama: I am currently the fastest man alive. TenTen: Only because you cheat with Hiraishin. I could totally beat you in a five-hundred lap race around Konoha. Hashirama: ...five hundred? Tobirama: Wait, what. TenTen, already stretching: Yeah, let's do this! It's been a while since I had a solid challenge, you know? Hashirama: ???? Tobirama, is she serious? Tobirama: She runs two hundred laps around the village every morning, so... probably. Hashirama, wheezing: That's a lot. TenTen: That's a warmup.

Someone, probably Madara: Okay but that's cheating because you have inhuman stamina from the fox! Kurama, chilling on a tree stump napping: No the fuck she does not. Hashirama: What do you mean she doesn't? Kurama: I don't just leave the faucet running 24/7 Senju, besides, she doesn't need my help to be a ridiculous persistence hunting nightmare monster in this regard. TenTen: Awww, Kurama, you flatterer.

TenTen: I was running 150 laps of the village every morning by the time I was fourteen. Hashirama: Why? TenTen: My teacher was fun.

At least one shitty joke from a stranger about stamina In Bed and TenTen and Tobirama just stare at the person.

Maito Dai would be... maybe a little older than the Sannin, younger than Hiruzen. Solid age for TenTen to take as a student, probably. Very feels-worthy, with the whole Passing the Torch thing that that whole family had going on, and that Gai passed it to his students since he didn't have children of his own, the idea of TenTen taking that shot to make sure she's still part of that... family, for lack of a better term? Even in this strange new world they're making by altering history like that.

And that’s about it.

As per usual, most of this was brainstormed with @firebirdeternal.

#Yamanaka Ino #Haruno Sakura #TenTen #Uchiha Izuna #Senju Tobirama #Senju Hashirama #Kurama #Uchiha Madara #Naruto #time travel #Phoenix Posts #TobiTen #IzuIno

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kyotakumrau · 4 years

Text

2021.03.10 USEN STUDIO COAST 2nd session with Toshiya and Kyo

Fujieda and Takabayashi again came on stage when the tables were ready and after greeting everyone and introducing themselves F asked fans to give band members a loud applause👏

Toshiya and Kyo came back and they both changed for the second session!

Unconfirmed until DIRT announcement, but most likely T was wearing DIRT items: light grey cardigan and black and white floral print set, top and bottom, with a thick white stripe with black frame on the sides. Plus sunglasses.

Kyo was wearing Madaraningen, MANG white shirt with the tie and black slacks, white socks with colorful accent, gold choice of Madara jewellery. And big glasses.

They sat in the same order as for the 1st session.→F K T Ta

T: I'm Toshiya, yoroshiku onegaishimasu

K: I'm Kyo.

The whole time during the 1st session K was turned slightly to the right, but during the 2nd session he was basically sitting facing F.

F: (after he talked about Rock-May-Kan footage) It's the first time you performed Ochita koto no aru sora. Did you have any trouble with it?

T: hm. Chorus is hard.

F: continues fast.

T: yeah. But you just practice and get used to playing it.

F: Shinya said that thanks to the rehearsal you did as the rhythm section songs he got them back quickly.

T: I see. He should be grateful😆

F: How about you, K? Any trouble?

K: don't know (he's looking to the left side of the venue)

F: you've only performed it once.

K: wah! (still intensely looking at the left wall of the venue or somewhere that direction)

F: 😱?! why are you looking there?? Can you see anything?!

K: thingy there is moving and moving...

F: whaaaaat, don't scare us like that!

K: ... (he continued to look there).

👻？😂

F: Didn't you play Jealous first time in a really long time? Wasn't it hard?

T: it wasn't a big surprise, we were planning it originally for the SOGAI tour.

F: the cancelled tour.

T: We were waiting until the last moment to see if we can go on with it or we have to cancel, so we had the proper rehearsal for the tour. So when rehearsing it for Rock-May-Kan show it didn't feel like it's been a long time.

F: K you said it was embarrassing to remember and perform it?

K made the 'robot move' from PV with a totally blank face😂

F: you also played Umbrella, so will you be playing more old songs?

K: Anything is okay except 'Toriko'. There's a drums solo in the end, it's so long and the switch to the next song gets so confusing.

T: How about we leave S and just go?

😂

Then they talked how Shinya fans and other fans would react.

K: Wouldn't fans be troubled with [he made the robot move]?

😆

F: you T don't mind old songs?

T: they're fine/no problem.

F moved the talk to the flyer and their new artist photo.

K: Auspicious/celebrating. Like New Year. And osechi.

F: I see, if using food to explain it's like osechi.

F: How was the filming of the PV?

T: Really long. But speaking of refreshing/Sawayaka, do you know the hamburger shop with that name?

F: it's in Shizuoka (F then again got very enthusiastic talking about how delicious is the meat there, how very juicy etc)

T: so PV is like that (like a juicy meat😂).

F: the single cover art is very unexpected for you.

K: I know and like this artist from before, I asked her to do it for us. I really like it.

After that was time for the merchandise topic. F announced that he confirmed that the rechargeable heat pack can also work as a charger/power bank. K who asked about it in Yokohama and was then told that no, it's just a heat pack just gave him such a look. F, you're not gonna get out of this alive😂

K: ...it'd be such a good item in winter, so it's for the next one? We don't sell it in winter, only for warm season. Wow, heat pack for the warm season...

/s by K👌💯

F started to enthusiastically advertise the towel saying like a muffler it can be worn on a cold day to keep you warm, and K...😂

But T was also poking so much fun at F with his reactions, 'oh I see! Wow!' 😂

T: I think we haven't had wristbands in a while.

K: what are you actually supposed to do with it?

F: you can wipe the sweat off (he gestured wiping sweat from his brow)?

K: I see. Then what about the towel then? (he also gestured using a towel with one hand and a wristband with the other at the same time [kinda like the Jealous robot move], the look he gave F and that pause when he waited for F to dare to answer, oh my, F, you're so dead🤣)

But T and Ta said that guitarists actually use it to keep sweat off their hands etc.

K: so with all of these fans are settled for the show at Tokyo Garden Theater? (F was nodding to all listed items) These and the ticket and we're good? And the train ticket? Ah no, commuter pass? What should they wear? (F: The hoodie) But then we don't sell any bottoms, should fans go without any pants? What? But we have two items to wipe sweat!

F: fans can bring the travel pouch, usb, they all fit perfectly in the bag! All good items especially if you come from outside of Tokyo.

K: and no bottoms😆

F: well, they need extra money for the ticket and their own bottoms.💦

F also advertised venue limited edition of Ochita.

K: so there are no plans for normal sale? When it gets sold out that's it?

F: yeah.

(it's contradictory with Kaoru's tweet, not sure if I trust F😂)

After that we moved to the section with questions from fans. F as usual split the papers so everyone got some, K this time didn't even read them, just putting them in F's pile😂 but then he was leaning over all the time trying to read what F was looking at😁

F said there many questions about where T stands on the seat choice.

T: on shinkansen I prefer window, on the airplane aisle.

F: why?

T: if I need to stand up to go to toilet etc it's easier.

F: but on the train you prefer a nice view, I see. Shinya said he prefers window seat any time.

T: He's a kid.

F then told her about the rest of the seat preference story (table down idea and S not needing to stand up at all).

F: "are you okay with the pineapple in a sweet and sour pork? Is there any food you're not okay with?"

K: I don't mind. I don't like milk and coriander. But there's something, not exactly food, that I totally hate. You know when you go to a shushi restaurant, conveyor belt sushi, there's alcohol to clean your hands. (K then said if there's a perfume like smell in it you can't enjoy food or something like that).

K (looking at the venue wall calmly): oh it moved.

F: WHAT??!😱

😂

T: I don't mind the pineapple, it's actually very good to help make meat more tender

F: Is there any food you hate, T?

T: The food F doesn't like.

(does it exist??😂)

K: F, you have to understand pineapple's feelings.

K: I thought you F would get pineapple's feelings.

F: I'll try to step in pineapple's shoes...

K: Pineapple is often disliked, but it's being helpful...

K tried to sway F a bit more into becoming a pineapple...

Ta: I'm ok with it, pineapple's feelings are safe.

T: "please tell us F's one good point and one thing you would like him to improve". F is so popular.

F: Not at all😅

K: despite the pineapple...

F: so, T?

T: He can appreciate food/has good appetite, is energetic. Something to fix is that he answers everything with そうっすね/yeahsure

F: K said something similar.

T: About Tooru (he used Takabayashi's given name), he's very good at laying groundwork for projects. Something to improve... well, when I think of something I'll let you know (to Ta).

Ta: Anytime.

K: Ta's good point, he does his job in a matter of fact manner. He doesn't exactly has something to fix, but he can't eat cheese, so fe when we go abroad he can't have pizza.

K: there are so many things F should fix.

F: That ﾊｲﾊｲﾊｲ・yeahyeahyeah

K: ...🙃 just answer with one proper はい

K also complained again about F's eating manners that he opens his mouth too much when eating, sometimes also will turn his head when eating ramen like it's easier to eat (K demostrated F eating posture, arms high and head turned - a bit like Jealous robot pose😆)

F: any good points?😆

K: ...hm. You make every place comfortable. I can relax with you, I wouldn't be speaking at all if you weren't here.

Both fans and F went 'Aaaaaw😊'

Ta: "are there any electronic goods you want right now?"

K: ...hm, solar panels.

F: does that count as electronic goods?

K: isn't it electronic? I want one you can put on the roof and make your own power.

T: yeah, solar panels would be nice.

K: And you can sell electricity to power companies. It's expensive at first, but after 10 years you can start make money, also you can use it if there's an earthquake.

F: can we get it at the store?

K: Why not, you could carry it home on your back!

F: Maybe not...

K: Can I put one on you F?

F: No.

K: then tattoo the giraffe on you, one long giraffe stretching from neck to knees.

F: You like giraffes.

K: Yes (noded)

K got so excited about the giraffe, F won't hear the emd of this idea😂

F: " do you have a favorite female idol or singer?"

K: This morning I was listening to Togawa Jun, レーダーマン.

F: you T?

T: No one in particular. But ones from the past.

F: like globe?

T: isn't it wrong age?

K: globe is the band with Sam?

F: I think that's TRF, in globe it's Mark Panther and Komuro Tetsuya.

F: "how about favorite artist or band you like?" Or just music you like.

K: I'm listening now to Sekiri (赤痢), an old female band.

F: foreign band?

K: From Japan, with 3 female members.

T: I just use shuffle, listen to music without choosing who to listen to.

F: It's a streaming age now.

T: Is it?😆

F: Ok we still have plenty of time, "what's your shoe size?"

K: 24.5, for sports shoes 25.5.

T: 27, for sports I go bigger, maybe 28 or 29. Boots are better just right. But why do you need such information?😅

F: Usually fans can't ask such things, like do you pull your hoodie strings? (?)

K: I don't.

T: it depends on my mood.

F: ok, not much time left now, we will finish soon.

T: but you just said we have plenty??😆

Ta: "what your favorite album/single cover art?"

T: to pick just one is tough.

Ta: S said that Oboro is in his top 5 now.

T: Favorite cover... hm... what is it, I know, MISSA!😆

F: it's cool, it has members photo.

T: it does?😂

K: For me its DUM. It really captured album's worldview.

F (unsure): are you angry?

K: S answered that Oboro is in his top 5 to the question what's your favorite? Why?😑

F explained the situation, that it wasn't to the same question, K just replied 'I see'.

And then when F just wanted to finish K said they should do all of the leftover questions, but without thinking too long, very rapid q&a

(and absolute nightmare to write down but so SO entertaining🤣 sorry I'm not sure about all the questions it was TOO FAST)

K: hurry up!

F: (something about some time in their life)

K: now, next.

F: what about T?

K just rushed him😆

F: food you want to eat now.

K: choboyaki

F: T, a fragrance you like (?)

T: Aroma.

F: sakura season will start soon, do you have favorite spot?

K: when is soon supposed to be?

F: T, is there something you want now?

T: No.

F: K, do you color your hair by yourself?

K: Yes, next.

F: Bread or rice?

T: Both.

F: what do you buy in convenience store?

K: sweets

F: what do you do first after waking up?

T: open eyes.

D: which convenience store do you like best?

K: Convenience store.

F: do you eat skin on the chicken?

T: I like the skin best.

F: (how do you deal with stress??)

K: stress.

F: T, do you sleep naked or wear pajama to bed?

T: Pajama.

F: (something about Oboro photo shoot???)

K did the robot move in reply😆

F: which style of clothes you like when shopping?

T: simple.

F: To finish, what's your favourite obento side dish?

K (gave F disbelieving look): You want to finish with this?

F: We asked others tok, everyone had different preferences.

K: what were other members answers?

F: for Kaoru green beans or asparagus, for S hamburger, Die... we talked yesterday, but what was it?

K (seriously): I like unagi.

(marinated eel is delicious, but also very expensive, so definitely not a side😅)

F: it's delicious.

K: It is.

T: is this really needed? Don't have one, just nothing that makes food soggy... Ah, but you know when you have a pickled plum on your rice, you move it and there's this pink spot with plum flavor? I like that!

Then it was really the end and time for the last comments.

Kyo: I don't have anything.

F: By this you surely mean you're looking forward to seeing everyone in May...

K (killer face): ...💢

Toshiya: Thank you for coming today. We are having a concert in Tokyo Garden Theater on May 6th, please come if you want to. Thank you.

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #toshiya #爆音会 #目黒鹿鳴館gig #talk event #attempt at live report

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remember-to-be-gentle · 4 years

Note

what about reader summoning a demon in desperation after losing their job but they summon the wrong one? (Enji? Madara? Dabi? Miruko? Up to u it could be any1)

I made a header for this fic because it kept getting buried in my drafts also this fic is for you demon tail fuckers.

Subject: BNHA, Demon!Dabi aka Touya Todoroki

Title: How Much Does a Pound of Flesh Cost? (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Murder, demon summoning, workplace harassment, non con, cannibalism, loss of virginity/bad women’s anatomy, tail penetration, blood, crying, reader is in pain multiple times

You couldn’t take it anymore. The harassment, the taunting, the rumors. HR didn’t help and God knew if your lazy as hell boss was going to so much as glance in the direction of your problems. So you’d had to turn to other means.

It was a last resort, you’d told yourself that over and over again, only to be used if there was no other option. You couldn’t leave the job, it paid too well and no where would hire someone who quit after just three months on the job. Wiping tears out of your eyes, you drew the last parts of the upside pentagram on your hardwood floors, the chalk coming off in puffy chunks.

The upside down pentagram was ugly, no lines straight or even, but it should work, after all, summoning a demon didn’t require artistic talent, just desire. You grabbed the demon summoning book you’d gotten off Amazon and flipped to the page you’d bookmarked with sticky tabs and dried tears. In broken Latin and probably the worst accent ever, you read the words you’d only spoken in your fantasies and closed your eyes.

There was power in them, you could tell, though you weren’t sure exactly how much power would come from them. And just as quickly as the power had built, it crashed. Terrified your eyes shot open, fear gripping your heart. Had you failed? Did you really fail in your final attempt to save yourself?

And then you saw it.

Him.

The demon in the circle.

He smirked at you from where he laid in the chalk, hair so dark red it was black, eyes blue as the hottest part of the flame, skin either charred in patches or pale and smooth, staples keeping it all together. Two bull-like horns grew from his head and a long devil’s tail whipped about behind him. “Hey, doll,” he said, “what can I do you for?”

You’d prepared yourself for this. Demons were tricky with their words and quick to act, it was best to find out what they wanted before you told them why they were summoned. “Tell me what I have to pay first.”

“Doll,” he groaned, his body rising like a rag doll. His head flopped forward, those burning blue eyes zeroing in on you, “I can’t bill you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Shit, maybe you didn’t have the edge you thought you did. You swallowed and said, “I want... I want to make my coworkers suffer like they made me suffer. I want them to hurt—on the inside! I don’t want to see them bleed out or anything...”

The demon made a rumbling noise, your apartment shaking with him, picture frames rattling and furniture shaking. “You wish for them experience the same pain you did, pain that’s on the inside...” He drifted closer to you, an electric aura of malice surrounding him, “And you don’t want to see them bleed. Tricky, tricky.” His tail whipped again. “I think I would like my price to be...” He stopped right in front of you and smiled wide, showing off sharp canines built for tearing flesh, “My price will be your mucous.”

You blinked. “My mucous?”

He whipped his tail again, the tip of it suddenly right at your nose. “If you agree to the terms then eat of my flesh and your will shall become mine.”

“Wait,” your mind was steal reeling from his price and now he wanted you bite his tail off? The book hadn’t said anything about this.

“Every second you hesitate,” the demon growled, “is another second of your torment. Eat and be fulfilled.”

“Fine, okay.” He really wasn’t giving you time to think about this. You opened your mouth and he thrust in his tail, hard, the tip making it halfway down your throat, choking you for as heat crowded your face. For several swollen seconds you stayed there choking on his tail before instinct had you slamming your teeth down.

The tail snapped apart easily, the taste of pig skin a ghost on your tongue as the tail dropped down your esophagus and into your stomach. The weight of your deal hung heavily in your belly.

Heat erupted from your stomach, the taste of smoke overpowering your senses, burning your nose until you collapsed on the floor gasping for breath. Tears spilled over down your cheeks, carrying with it the sensation of burning, as if you’d been consumed in hellfire. The weight of the demon’s tail vanished.

When you finally caught your breath, you saw the demon was gone, leaving no trace behind except for the chalk circle that had been reshaped to read D̦̠̝̻̱̦̮̲̫̅̃́͂̈́͢͝͞Ȧ̸̧̫̠̦̬̞͛̽͐͆͜͝B̵̝̼̗̠̺̳̓̈͌͊̔͊́̀͞I̵͎͔͔͍̫͛̊̏͘͜͠.

*******************************************************************************************

With no idea when the demon would come back for his payment, you were left with no choice but to go to work. Your stomach twisted in terrorized knots. You didn’t want to confront them, look them in the eye and know that their hatred wouldn’t vanish without demonic intervention, but you’d used all your sick days and your rent wouldn’t pay itself.

The building was empty, which wasn’t unusual this early in the morning, though it concerned you the security guards weren’t in their places. You got into the elevator and took a deep breath. Alright,

You slowly entered the office and noticed first the silence. No fingers clacking keyboards. No rising bubbles from the water cooler. No idle chatter. No one seated in their cubicle. Nothing. Not even security making their rounds.

As you walked through the maze of cubicles, a terrible stench invaded your nostrils, making your stomach twist. It was coming from the board room. You slowly made your way over, bile lapping at the back of your throat with each step closer, nausea swelling in your skull until you were dizzy. The carpet had claw marks coming from all over the office, as if something had been dragged away. Some cubicle walls were smashed or broken. You kept walking toward the smell.

And then you saw it.

Inside the glass meeting room, surrounding the large wooden table, were all your coworkers. Not a single one of them so much as twitched, their skin was purple and blotchy, nearly black in some spots. Internal bleeding, you recognized immediately, they’d either been beaten so bad their organs ruptured or something inside them had been torn them apart. Either way you needed to get out of—

“Hey doll,” Dabi the demon slithered out from the shadows, his voice making the room rumble like he had in your house, “like what I’ve done with the place?”

You stared at him in horror. “You... you did this?”

“I did,” he floated toward the table, newly regrown tail whipping behind him, “and it was fun, too. Its been a while since I’ve been asked to kill without leaving a trace. You’re a surprisingly naughty girl.”

“No! I didn’t want you to kill them! I wanted them to hurt like I did—”

“Doll.” His voice terrorized you and forced you still, a demonic force so dark and ugly that your nearly vomitted. “You asked me to hurt them like they hurt you. You understand I can’t make them feel anything that isn’t...” He ran a blue fingernail over one of your coworkers darkened faces, “physical.” He wrapped his tail around their throat, shaking their head back and forth. “So I did what you asked, I made them hurt without letting them bleed out. All the bleeding is internal, where it’s supposed to be, and just like you requested.”

“No, no, you should have said something if that was the case! I didn’t want anyone to die!”

“But then you wouldn’t have taken my deal,” he pouted, releasing your coworker to approach you, still floating, “and then I wouldn’t have gotten paid. Besides, didn’t they hurt you so badly you wanted to die? You summoned a demon to hurt them after all, and even agreed to pay my price.”

His payment that’s right it was... mucous. “Why do you want mucous, anyway?”

He ran a hand down your nose and then hooked his finger into your nostril, forcing you to look up at him. Sharp pain erupted in your skin but the deadly look in his eye made you keep quiet. “Did you think this is what I wanted? Oh no, you poor silly, little thing. I don’t know a soul would have use for your disgusting boogers.” His tail whipped forward and slid into your pants, ungraciously rubbing against your slit, “This is the mucous I want. Your hymen.”

You tried to step away but Dabi hooked his fingers deeper, pulling up and making you scream from the pain. "You tricked me! I didn't agree to this!"

Dabi chuckled darkly. "Next time ask clarifying questions, babe." He sharply removed his fingers, letting you fall on the floor. He didn't let you catch your breath, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and throwing you on the table.

Your head hit the solid wood first, hard, marking your teeth rattle and skull bounce, the rest of your body forcing you to slide to the end of the table. A groan escaped your throat and when you tried to sit up, your face was just inches from your dead boss's. You shrieked and tried to scramble away, but Dabi pinned you down, one hand on your back, the other yanking your pants off. “Stop!” You screamed, “This isn’t what I wanted!”

You felt his tail circle your entrance, the tapered point pressing into your clit until you squirmed. It pulled your panties aside and felt the slick that had gathered, far too much for just rubbing your slit. It must have been some kind of demon magic that got him what he wanted faster. “This isn’t about what you want anymore,” he sneered in your ear, “your request is fulfilled, now pay up.” His tail slid inside you, suddenly much larger than you remembered seeing or swallowing, stretching out your insides as the tapered point met your cervix.

But it kept growing.

The tail’s girth continued to swell inside you, breaking your tight rings of untouched muscle as your core clenched around it. No matter how much you wanted to hate it, it felt good all the way inside you, reaching parts of you that had remained clean until now, and then the pain kicked in again.

The discomfort before had been an uncomfortable adjustment, slightly itchy if anything, but now it was searing, your insides feeling like they’d been torn apart and gutted. You shrieked, nails digging into the wood of the table. You swung your hips back and forth as if that would make him remove his tail but it only made the tip press harder against your cervix.

Dabi shoved your hips back down against the table. “Relax, I’m almost done.”

Each swell of his tail was excruciating, tears welling up in your eyes from the pain.

It seemed to reach a maximum painful girth, stuck inside you as your insides twisted. And faster than it had grown, his tail shrunk back down to normal and slid out of you. You could feel blood following after, dripping out of your entrance and onto the board meeting table.

Dabi started to lift himself up and you thought he was done, contract complete, but you heard him unzip his pants and before you could process exactly what was coming next, something new pressed inside you. It didn’t hurt as much as the tail, but it was much hotter, pushing all the way inside you until something warm and squishy pressed against your clit. Your sore insides itched and clung at the object, making you whimper. “This,” Dabi groaned, “is your tip.”

He pulled back and slammed back in, your torn core making you see stars from the sharp pain. His dick. He’d put this demon fucking dick inside you. You screamed and tried to thrash, but Dabi was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. All you really ended up doing was humping his cock and crying.

He simply ignored you and pumped roughly into you, his heavy balls slamming against your clit with each downstroke. You kept crying and thrashing and Dabi must have gotten annoyed with you because he growled, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Just stay still and let me take what I want.”

You choked out a sob, failing at swallowing the tears that slid down your cheeks and onto the table. With your boss’s dead eyes staring into you, you did your best to ignore the rough thrusting of the demon you’d sold your virginity to. You’d paid for revenge and lost far more than you’d bargained for.

257 notes · View notes

the8gates · 3 years

Text

Burnouts: Part Three

Word Count: 7.7k

Warning(s): Angst. Madara being sexy?

Atsuko Kamiyama is 19 years old with no clear direction in life. For now, she's content working at her father's comic book shop while he tours the world promoting his novel. Knee deep in the in-between, she finds herself hooking up with her best-friend, Obito, more often than she should. In a small town, there isn't much to do besides get high, host the weekly Trivia Night at the shop, and fool around.

Maybe it's a rut. But some realizations about herself and the introduction of Kakashi Hatake into her life will make sure she's not stuck running in circles for long.

Part One - Part Two - AO3 - Part Four

Atsuko woke with a start, the sound of the front door banging shut rattling Obito’s floor. He was positioned on the far end of the second floor, just above the main entrance on the first floor. So anytime someone came in and out of the house through that door, anyone in his room could feel it. Her eyes popped open and she sat up immediately, frowning in thought. It was Saturday morning. Everyone would be sleeping in. Save for maybe Itachi… he was an early riser. But if he was supposed to be going somewhere this morning he would have let them all know over dinner last night.

That meant it could only be one person.

“Obito?”

Came a deep voice from downstairs. Madara. Shit. She listened for a moment more and she heard the sound of shoes creaking against the staircase at the far end of the hall. She turned towards Obito where he was sleeping on his side, facing her with a limp arm still draped across her lap. Atsuko grabbed his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“Obito… Obito! Wake up. Madara’s here.”

She hissed, trying to keep her voice low as she panicked. They’d talked about this before. One of Madara’s rules when he was gone was no boyfriends or girlfriends could stay the night. It was silly in her eyes, especially considering that Obito was 19 going on 20… but it was one of the only rules he left the boys with when he had to travel. That and keeping the house clean… that was all he asked. Right now, Obito was breaking both. His room was trashed and Atsuko was currently half dressed in his bed. This was not going to go over well.

Her friend slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the streak of sunlight peaking in between the crack of his black out curtains. His brow furrowed in offense and confusion before she repeated herself. Then, it seemed like it clicked for him. The bleariness in his eyes disappeared at the sound of footsteps outside his bedroom door. There was a knock.

“Obito. I’m coming in.”

Madara called, already turning the doorknob and sealing their fate before they’d even had a chance to formulate a plan. Atsuko could only watch in wide eyed horror as the bedroom door creaked open, vaguely aware that Obito was sitting up next to her with a similar expression. When the door did finally open, struggling a little due to a pile of clothes laying in its path, Madara Uchiha was standing in the doorway.

She’d only ever seen him once, and he’d been sitting down in the car at the time so she hadn’t understood the full magnitude of his presence. He was massive. Standing just as tall as the doorframe with a broad set of shoulders that took up even more space. His hair was dark and thick, but he had it pulled up into a wild ponytail on the back of his head. Though he still managed to make it look sleek. He was dressed business casual, a pair of dark pants hugging tightly to his thick thighs and hips, the fabric strained taught in the groin area. When she managed to pull her eyes away from that show, she noticed the fitted white button up on his top half, again strained against the muscles on his chest. The sleeves of the dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the corded muscle and protruding veins on his forearms, hands stuffed in the pockets of those impossibly tight pants.

Her eyes finally drifted back up this face only to find him fixing them both with a soft glare, angular eyes with slight dark circles underneath narrowed in accusation. His eyebrows were sharp and his mouth was pulled into an almost disappointed frown. Despite their dire situation, Atsuko only had one thought as she took in the appearance of the much older man.

Holy fuck. That is the single hottest man I have ever seen in my life.

However, before she could begin openly drooling and panting like a dog in heat, Obito was clambering out of the bed and over her legs to stand up. He had stripped down to his boxers to sleep and Atsuko thought that he was only going to make their situation worse by stuttering out some lie. He would stumble over his words and try to convince Madara of some half truth, she was sure. Madara simply fixed the mostly naked boy with an exasperated expression, letting out a sigh through his nose as his thick arms came up to cross over his chest. He was waiting for the bullshit to spew from Obito’s mouth as well.

“Hey, pops. Didn’t know you were supposed to be back today… How was uh… where’d ya go again?”

Obito asked, the awkwardness in the room reaching a painful level. Atsuko couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped her mouth and she buried her face in her hands. Idiot.

“Kumogakure. But that doesn’t matter right now. I didn’t tell you when I was coming back because I wanted surprise everyone. Now I see I was right to do so.”

Madara stated, and Atsuko cursed whatever horny genes Jiraiya had given her. Because the man’s voice was deep and gravelly and pure sex. She found her body reacting almost immediately. She’d joked with Obito about his grandfather being hot before, but she would take the feelings she was having at this moment to her grave out of pure shame.

“Ah, it’s not what it looks like! We just-!”

Obito scrambled to defend, but Madara was quick to cut him off.

“Oh, it’s not what it looks like? So you didn’t have a girl over behind my back? That’s not what happened?”

Madara asked, though he didn’t raise his voice. Or really seem worked up at all. He was simply stating the facts, raising an eyebrow at Obito as if he was asking the boy ‘do I look stupid to you?’.

“Young lady. Your name is Atsuko, correct?”

The older man asked, looking over Obito’s shoulder to focus on her. Though he didn’t fix her with the same disappointed glare that he’d given Obito. Just genuinely curious. Atsuko nodded quickly, fingers curling the blanket that was covering her nearly naked bottom half.

“Yes sir.”

She answered, trying her best to not choke on her tongue. Outside of being hot, Madara was incredibly intimidating. Even if he wasn’t being outwardly angry or shouting. He just had this air about him. Like he was the most important man in the room at all times.

“It’s nice to meet you. Obito has told me a lot about you. Now, tell me… if you were in my position, would you believe a word out of my idiot grandson’s mouth?”

Madara introduced and quickly grilled her. Obito looked over his shoulder at Atsuko, locking eyes with her for a moment before giving her an embarrassed grin. Double idiot. She turned her attention back to Madara and carefully shook her head.

“No sir.”

Atsuko replied honestly, causing Obito to deflate a little, shoulders slumping as his head dropped forward. Madara hummed, low in his throat and focused back on his grandson.

“See. Even your little girlfriend knows better than to try and lie to me.”

Madara pointed out, but Atsuko jumped in quickly at that comment.

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

She clarified, the words bubbling up and out of her chest before she could think better of it. Madara’s eyes turned back to her, but slightly more confused this time. Then they dipped to where Obito’s shirt was hanging low on her shoulders and a blush rose to her cheeks as one of her hands came up to cover the hickey he’d left the night before. Ah. Shit.

Obito sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ah. Right. Not my girlfriend. Listen, I’m sorry for breaking the rules… Can I at least show her out before you tear into me?”

He asked, sounding more mature in his disappointment. Madara gave the couple one more look over before giving a curt nod and stepping away from the door and heading back down the hallway, calling after Shisui as he did so and likely going to knock on the younger boys door as well. Obito quickly moved to close the door, making a point to turn the lock before turning back to look at where she sat on the bed. Atsuko gave him a nervous smile but he only let out a soft groan.

“Why did you have to tell him you weren’t my girlfriend? Now he’s gonna be even more pissed.”

Obito sighed, pulling away from the door to start digging through the piles of clothes for something to pull on. He was still in his navy blue boxers, naked from the waist up and hairy legs on display. Atsuko’s brow furrowed at that, standing on her own to begin gathering her clothes as well. But it was a little hard to tell what was hers and what was his at this point.

“What do you mean? Why does it matter?”

Atsuko questioned, finding her jeans from the day before crumpled up in a corner. She pulled them on, having to dance and shimmy a little to get the form fitting denim over her hips and thighs.

“He’s kind of a… traditionalist? I’m not sure. The idea of people having sex outside of marriage just runs all over him. If you’d at least let him believe you were my girlfriend he might have been a little more understanding. But now he’s gonna think…”

Obito trailed off, and Atsuko could tell this wasn’t just about Madara. If sex outside of marriage was the issue, wouldn’t he still be upset if they were only dating? Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, Atsuko opted for making a joke.

“That you’re a whore?”

She replied, smirking at his bare back while he also slipped on a pair of jeans. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, returning her soft smile before letting out a deep exhale and turning to cross the room to her. These moments… where he would tower over her and fix her with that sweet smile… they were becoming increasingly troublesome. Because the closer her got, the more she wanted to reach up and cup his jaw in her hands. Run her thumbs under his dark eyes. Kiss him without the preamble of weed or the prospect of sex.

Obito hovered in her personal space, her head forced back to keep eye contact with him. His dark hair stuck up in all directions, wild and untamable despite her attempts to style it in the past. Sharp eyebrows relaxed and dark eyes half lidded as he peered down at her. All back lit by the tiny streaks of light that peaked into his dusty room from gaps between the black out curtains. The air in the room was getting too thick and she could hear the faint whisperings of some Rex Orange County song playing from Shisui’s room as he got ready. Her fingers twitched with the need to complete the moment. To reach up and touch him like she’d wanted…

But she fought the urge, instead opting to pat his bare chest once, tearing her eyes away from his to focus on gathering her things. Barely able to catch the warm smile leave his face in her peripheral.

“Well, good luck with that. I’m gonna go shower and find something to eat. If you don’t die, maybe we can go for a ride later.”

Atsuko suggested, trying to break the tension in the best way she knew how. Talking. There was a moment of silence before Obito let out a soft ‘yeah’ and continued to dress himself. She threw her overnight bag over her shoulder and stuffed her phone in her pocket as he waited for her by the door. True to his word, when she was ready, he opened the door for her and followed her downstairs. She was passing the kitchen when she heard some kind of commotion.

“I’m not going to some stupid camp! Why can’t I just stay here by myself? It’s only a week!”

Sasuke shouted, all of that pre-teen angst coming through in his voice. She frowned softly, not sure why any sign of distress from the boy tugged at her heartstrings. But it always did.

“Sasuke… you cannot stay home alone for a week. For one, you’re just not old enough. Something could happen and no one would be around to help. And two, it would be incredibly irresponsible on my part.”

Madara tried to reason, surprisingly calm in the face of the young boys shouting. He was such an intimidating man, she didn’t think he’d be one to tolerate any kind of outbursts. Before they crossed the doorway passing the kitchen and towards the front door, Atsuko stopped in her tracks, Obito crashing into her back with a huff.

“What the hell?”

He hissed, but she brought a finger up to her mouth to shush him. She wanted to hear what was happening. She and Obito had planned to go to Suna for the upcoming Spring Break. It was set to be a week long bender on the beach and they’d both been looking forward to it for quite some time… She also knew Itachi was going to some kind of music camp for the week… but she’d just assumed Shisui would be staying home so there would be someone to watch after Sasuke. But apparently not.

“Besides, I think you would have a really good time at camp. Obito went when he was your age. Shisui loved it so much he’s going back this year to be a counselor! He’ll be there too so you won’t be alone. It’ll be good for you to get out and make some new friends.”

Madara tried to encourage, tone falling more serious at the end. Like this was non-negotiable. Sasuke groaned, his comeback ready and waiting.

“Shisui’s only going because the stupid girl he likes is going! I have plenty of friends already and I don’t want to go stay in some hot ass cabin for a week with a bunch of other annoying assholes!”

Sasuke retorted, drawing a sigh from his grandfather. She could almost imagine him rubbing the bridge of his nose the same way Obito had earlier.

“Language, Sasuke… listen, there’s really no other option. You can’t stay here because I have to leave tomorrow afternoon for another business trip. I’ll be gone for a month this time. And there’s really nowhere else you can go…”

Madara stated, giving him the facts of the situation. There wasn’t a way around it.

“I’m supposed to hang out with Naruto and everyone that week. Do my plans not matter?”

Sasuke huffed, and the genuine sadness in his voice caused Atsuko to frown. Naruto and Sasuke were close… Closer than any other 12 year old boys she’d known. In fact, she and Obito had placed bets on when the two would announce they were dating. It was cute. Naruto was loud and a little obnoxious, but in an endearing way. And he brought Sasuke out of his pouty shell more often than not. Most of the time, the boys went every where together. Again, the youngest Uchiha tugged at her heartstrings in the just the right way and she stepped forward into the kitchen with an awkward wave.

“Uh… hi, I couldn’t help but overhear…”

She started, drawing the attention of the three people in the kitchen. Shisui was standing at the large marble island, doubled over a bowl of cereal. His eyes widened as he looked at her, spoon mid-air as he raised it to his open mouth. Sasuke was sitting at one of the stools pulled up to the island as well, his eyebrows still furrowed in anger with a pout on his face. Then there was Madara, standing on the other side of the island from Sasuke, those massive arms still crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the counter behind him. He’d quirked an eyebrow at her sudden presence, but no one moved to stop her. Except Obito. He was gently tugging at the back of her shirt, whispering ‘What are you doing?’ under his breath as he tried to get her to leave without causing any more problems.

“Sorry it’s just… I heard the conversation and uh… Mr. Uchiha, if Sasuke doesn’t want to go to camp, I wouldn’t mind watching him for the week.”

Atsuko offered, nervously clasping her hands together in front of her. Again, Obito was hissing out questions behind her. ‘Atsuko, what about Suna?’ and a variation of other things. But she reached back to smack at where his hands had gripped her shirt, a silent cue for him to shut up and leave it alone. There was another silence in the room as Madara turned to look at Sasuke. The youngest boys eyes had lit up and he was staring up at his grandfather with barely concealed hope. When the older man’s eyes landed back on her, there was a silent question in the air. Why? You’re not Obito’s girlfriend, so why?

“It’s just ah… when I was a kid my dad shipped me off somewhere for a while and I really resented him for a while because of that. I’m not saying Sasuke would resent you or anything! It’s just a week after all and my situation was different but… I don’t know. I relate. And my dad he owns the comic book shop here in town so-“

Atsuko rambled, and Madara cut in during the middle of her sentence.

“Jiraiya. Yes, I’m aware.”

He stated, and she nodded before continuing.

“Right. I work there and Sasuke and his friends come in all the time. And I’m sure you know I spend a lot of time with Obito so… we’re friends, right Sasuke?”

Atusko encouraged, looking at the young boy for his cue to agree. It wasn’t a lie. She helped him with his homework and took him and Itachi to school in the mornings. Sometimes they would hang out and play video games when she was just hanging around the house. They shared music recommendations too, surprisingly enough. It would be a breeze to hang out with him for a week.

“Yeah! Atsuko’s really cool. We hang out all the time. She can definitely watch me.”

Sasuke replied enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically for his personality, but it seemed to convince Madara nonetheless that Sasuke would be comfortable staying with her. Or with her staying here.

“I was under the impression you were going with Obito to Suna for the break.”

Madara pointed out, and Atsuko looked over her shoulder at her friend. Obito gave her a look that said ‘yeah, dumbass, did ya forget?’ but she opted to ignore it, turning her attention back to Madara.

“Well, that was the plan. But, honestly, I’m not really the ‘beach’ type… I’m sure Obito can find someone else to tag along? We can work that out between us.”

Atsuko answered, trying her best to wiggle out of the situation without giving any definitives. She could feel Obito glaring daggers into the back of her head. But she didn’t care about that in the moment. She really did relate to Sasuke’s plight and she really didn’t want him to be uncomfortable or miserable for a week. Madara still seemed skeptical, so she took another careful step into the kitchen.

“Mr. Uchiha, I know we’ve never spoken before but.. I’ve spent the last year around your boys and we’ve all grown close. I wouldn’t offer to do this if I didn’t want to. And Sasuke would be completely safe with me. I don’t do much so… he could spend his afternoons with me at the shop and he could either come stay with me at Jiraiya’s or I could stay here. It’s no issue.”

Atsuko tried to assuage any concerns he had, gesturing with her hands a lot due to the nerve wracking situation. Suddenly, Shisui picked his head up from where he was gorging himself on Frosted Flakes.

“Vouch. Atsuko’s cool.”

He barked out, mouth full of soggy sugar. She gave him an appreciative nod and turned her attention back to Madara. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, looking between Atsuko and Sasuke with a scrutinizing expression.

“And there’s no way I’m convincing you to go to camp? Even if I say it’s enriching for your character and that some time in the sun would do you good?”

Madara asked the young boy, Sasuke shook his head immediately.

“Not a chance in hell.”

Sasuke replied, drawing another soft sigh from Madara.

“Fine. Ms Atsuko, if you’re willing to watch Sasuke for the upcoming week I would be very grateful… You can stay here if you’d like. I’ll leave some money for groceries and your time.”

Madara conceded, pulling a genuine smile from her. She nodded in agreement, bowing her head.

“Of course. I’m sure we’ll have fun. I’ll even make him get out in the sun a little.”

She stated, chuckling at Sasuke’s huff of annoyance. After that, Madara laid out a couple ground rules for her and let her know she needed to be back Monday morning when everyone was set to depart for their respective trips. After that, she finally excused herself to leave, Obito following hot on her heels despite having remained silent for the entirety of the transaction. Once she’d cleared the front door, he followed her onto the porch as well, shutting the large door behind him a little roughly.

“What the hell was that, Atsuko? We’ve been planning this trip for months and you drop out the weekend before just because Sasuke was throwing a fit?”

Obito hissed, frustration clear in the way he raised his voice, jamming a thumb back over his shoulder towards the house.

“I’m sorry, Obito. But I never really wanted to go on that trip anyway-“

Atsuko started, trying to defend her position, but he was cutting her off.

“Never wanted to go? You just said you were excited about it last week!”

He pointed out, and she groaned, dropping her head back in defeat.

“I was excited for you! You wanted to go and have a good time and I didn’t want to be a downer, so I agreed. Besides, look at this way, now you can go with no attachments! You don’t have to worry about me. Just party. Have a good time and hook up with some random girls. It’ll be fun.”

Atsuko tried to assuage, an awkward hand coming up to shove his shoulder lightly. It was supposed to be playful, teasing. But his head was dropped forward, staring at the ground with a pained expression. Her shove just caused his body sway a little and he gave no outward reaction. It was silent for a moment before he spoke up.

“But I didn’t want to do any of that. I wanted to go with you.”

Obito replied, the dejection in his voice damn near enough to break her heart. She sighed, running her fingers back through her hair. Maybe it was for the best they’d be spending some time apart. He was getting too attached. And she was starting to feel the stirrings of something more than what she wanted as well.

“Maybe… some time apart will be good for us, yeah? And it’s not like you’ll be alone. Dei and the others are going too, right? You can tell me all about it when you get back.”

Atsuko encouraged, again fighting the urge to reach out and comfort him physically. There was another pause as she gnawed on her bottom lip, waiting for what he’d say. Eventually, he picked his head up with a sigh.

“Yeah. Just… just go home. I’ll text you later.”

Obito said, his eyes falling tired again as he turned away from her, giving her no time to respond before retreating back into the house and slamming the door in her face.

Well shit.

————————————————-

Atsuko drove back home in complete silence. Too nervous to even turn on the radio or hook her phone up to the bluetooth. She gnawed at her bottom lip until it cracked and bled a little, hissing to herself when her teeth grazed the newly tender spot. That was not at all how she expected the morning to go. Not only was Obito likely being chewed out for breaking one of Madara’s rules because of her, but now he was upset with her. It wasn’t a betrayal to back out on the trip if she didn’t want to go… So why did it feel like it was?

She filtered between guilt and self assurance like those viewing glasses at the eye doctor. One, Obito was overreacting and it was likely because he’d started to develop romantic feelings for her. She was putting up boundaries and that was a healthy thing to do if she wasn’t comfortable. Or two, she’d ditched her best friend selfishly and with no regard to his feelings because she couldn’t figure out what she wanted. One or two? One or two? But they both looked the same.

When she finally pulled into the driveway of the house she didn’t frequent often, she sat in the parked car for a moment more. Eventually, she decided to just leave it behind. She’d made her decision. And the commitment to watch Sasuke was much more important than a silly vacation. So, she pulled herself from the car and packed her belongings inside. Today was her day off and she was going to try her best to enjoy it.

Upon entering the house she completed a number of menial chores. Starting a load of laundry, collecting a few dishes from her room from the last night she’d stayed there and starting the dishwasher. Just as she was about to step into the shower, her phone dinged from it’s place on the bathroom counter. When she went to check the messages she realized she hadn’t even had time to check it this morning. There were three unread texts.

Kakashi. Gai’s Friend. From the Comic Shop: ‘That’s good to hear. Ya know, when I asked about you, Gai said you had something going on with Obito and I was just wondering… is it serious?’ (1:43 am)

Kakashi. Gai’s Friend. From the Comic Shop: ‘Hey, I’m sorry if I said something out of line last night. I didn’t mean to pry or anything. It’s really none of my business.’ (10:37 am)

Atsuko groaned when she read the message, the undeniable butterflies in her stomach competing for space with the uneasy guilt. Like a drunk boxing match. That brought on another onslaught of self doubt. Why did she feel guilty? Her situation-ship with Obito wasn’t serious. She’d been very clear about that from the beginning. And the way things were looking now… Her fingers were moving across the screen before she could question her motives.

Me: ‘Hey. No, you didn’t say anything out of line. I just fell asleep and I’ve had a hell of a morning, so I’m sorry for not replying. My situation with Obito is… complicated. But I meant it when I said I’d like to see you again.’

She replied, swiping away from the sent message before she could over analyze what she’d done. Then she was moving on to the next unopened text.

Tenzo: ‘Hey, Atsuko. I misplaced my key… where’s the spare again?’

And again, she let out another groan, eyes flipping up to the clock on her phone. 11:16am. The shop would open in 45 minutes. Which meant she had 30 minutes to shower and leave the house, 15 to drive to the shop and meet Tenzo.

Me: ‘I brought it home with me a couple nights ago by accident… I’ll meet you at the shop.’

She replied, quickly discarding her phone on the bathroom counter so she could resume her shower. It would be quicker than she wanted, but it was better than nothing. Jiraiya had given Tenzo the part time position several years ago when he’d started dating his mother, Tsunade. But even before they’d started dating, Atsuko had grown up with Tenzo. Jiraiya and Tsunade had been close friends since grade school, along with Uncle Orochimaru. Because none of them had ever moved away Konoha, they all stayed close friends well into adulthood and had children of their own all around the same time.

Tsunade had married a man named Don after meeting him in college. They’d had Tenzo, but when the boy was only 6 months old, Don had died in a horrible car wreck. A couple months after Tenzo was born, Atsuko was born. Her mother, Akari, had died during childbirth, leaving Jiraiya to raise her all on his own. Then Orochimaru had his daughter, Anko. Though his marriage to her mother dissolved quickly afterwards and the woman eventually abandoned her husband and her daughter.

From what little Jiraiya had told her about that time in their lives, it had been difficult for everyone. They’d all settled down and had been ready to live the rest of their lives in domestic bliss with the people they loved (though Atsuko often wondered if Orochimaru was capable of romantic love) only for them to be ripped away from them. Not to mention it had left them to care for newborns on their own with no help. So, they became each others help. Babysitting for one another and learning the basics of child care together through trial and error. The way Jiraiya made it sound, they were one step away from buying one massive house together and starting some sort of communal living situation.

Either way, it ensured that Tenzo, Anko, and Atsuko had all grown up ‘thick as thieves’ as Tsunade would say. She was an only child, but it had never felt that way. Currently, Tsunade was the principal at Konoha’s local High School and Orochimaru was a fairly famous lawyer. It fit both of their personalities pretty well, Atsuko thought. Tsunade was the tough love, motherly, type. She didn’t tolerate bullshit, but she knew when to use a softer touch. Orochimaru was a little sleazy and eccentric, but brilliant in his own right. He never turned down a case, Jiraiya had once told her.

Anko had moved away to follow in her father’s footsteps, getting accepted to one of the most prestigious law school programs in the nation. Tenzo was also in college, but he was studying botany. He’d discovered his green thumb in middle school and had never looked back. They were both set to be successful adults with promising careers.

Then, there was Atsuko.

Sent to a boarding school at the age of thirteen because Jiraiya couldn’t ‘handle her outbursts’ anymore. Granted, she’d been unruly at best. A delinquent at the worst. And the boarding school had helped her straighten some things out… She’d been sent to a therapist upon her arrival for a psychological evaluation. The diagnosis and subsequent medication she’d been placed on had really saved her life. But she still resented him for sending her there in the first place. If he’d just listened to her more often or taken her to a therapist himself, she might not have had to spend four years at that school. Though, she wasn’t sure where she would have rather been.

Now, she wasn’t sure what direction her life was supposed to go in. All she’d ever wanted to be was happy… so, she figured she’d just keep chasing that feeling. If a simple life made her happy, then there was no need to dedicate herself to a larger cause or a career. She could just exist and live and find her fulfillment in every day experiences. And just as she’d thought with Obito, she wondered if that was just an excuse to be lazy.

When she arrived at the comic shop, hair still dripping wet and darkening the back of her white t-shirt, Tenzo was standing outside the front door. The man who would soon be her step-brother was tall. Taller than most guys she knew. And he was built much like the trees he loved to study. Solid and sturdy with a broad set of shoulders and toned muscles. He picked his head up from where he was looking at his phone and gave her a soft nod as he slipped the object into his jeans pocket. Atsuko waved back, digging around in her pockets for the spare key as she drew closer.

“Sorry, Atsuko. I have no idea where I left my key.”

Tenzo stated as she stepped up onto the little landing outside the front door. The reason they had so much space in the shop was because Jiraiya had been insistent on purchasing a stand alone building when he’d opened the shop. He didn’t want it to be some dusty store front in a strip mall plaza. It was his ‘passion project’ so it had to have a dedicated space. It was more expensive, but in the long run, it was a better investment.

“It’s alright. I was just in the middle of showering, so ya know, no big deal. There’s totally not water running down my back as we speak.”

Atsuko retorted sarcastically, chuckling when Tenzo gave her an apologetic smile and ran his fingers through his light brown hair. He was a good guy. Always had been. When they were kids, he was always the voice of reason. Talking her and Anko down from some stupid stunt before they even had a chance to plan. Then, when he got older, he spent all of his free time in his garden. He grew vegetables and sold them at the Farmer’s Market on Sunday mornings. He wasn’t as harsh or masculine as a lot of the men she’d known, and she chalked it up to being raised by a single mother. But, genuinely, he was probably one of the best people she knew. Well rounded and honest. Hardworking and reliable. So, she couldn’t find it in her heart to be mad that he’d misplaced his key. He’d find it.

When they entered the shop, Tenzo immediately went to work turning on all of the lights and clocking in for his shift. Atsuko followed him inside for a moment, just to help out and catch up since she was already out. After fifteen minutes of preparing in silence, the shop was open for business. Immediately, Tenzo placed his laptop on the glass top, pulling up the stools behind the counter and getting ready to crack into some school work. Saturday’s were usually pretty slow.

“So, mom said you’re going to Suna for the break?”

Tenzo questioned, making small talk as he clicked around on the laptop, peeking up over the screen at her. Atsuko sighed, leaning against the counter and shaking her head.

“No, I’m not going now… You would not believe the morning I’ve had.”

She started, groaning softly as the memories came flooding back. Obito’s betrayed face. Ugh.

“If it had to do with Obito, I’ll believe anything.”

Tenzo snarked, smirking at her from behind the screen. It pulled a soft chuckle from her, but her heart wasn’t in it. Tenzo didn’t really care for her ‘relationship’ with Obito. The problem wasn’t Obito himself. It was the friends with benefits situation that didn’t make sense to him. In his eyes, they should had made it official a long time ago. Because this situation would just ‘end in a shit show’ .

Atsuko didn’t agree. And even if she did, the instant gratification she was getting from her set up with Obito was just too great to ignore. If it did end in a shit show, then it would have been worth it for all the no-strings-attached fun they’d had.

Either way, she’d been confiding in Tenzo since they were children. So, she launched into the story of her morning. Starting with Madara showing up unannounced and ending with Obito slamming the door in her face. By the end, Tenzo wasn’t looking at his laptop anymore. Instead, he was listening intently, a sour look on his face.

“Yikes…”

He hissed through his teeth, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Atsuko nodded in agreement, dropping her head to her hands.

“I don’t know what to do from here. It’s not like we’ve ever had a fight. There’s never been a reason for one…”

Atsuko replied, sagging against the counter top. They weren’t dating, but that didn’t mean she was okay with her friend being mad at her. And, honestly, it felt weird when he wasn’t around now. The small amounts of time they spent apart were starting to make her feel… disconnected? Like she was in intermission. Just waiting for the next time she’d see Obito. Then it was like all of the lights coming on at once. Every switch in her brain flipping into position. She knew they needed to spend some time apart, but the sick feeling in her stomach reminded her of the internal conflict. She’d be seasick until she set foot on dry land again.

“Ya know, I feel like this is exactly the kind of thing I said would happen…”

Tenzo started, but Atsuko was quick to cut him off, shaking her head.

“Nope. The last thing I need right now is an ‘I told you so’. I don’t care about the way you think things should be. Especially not when it comes to my friendships. Just tell me how to fix it.”

She sighed, turning her wide eyes up to look at him in desperation. It didn’t matter if Tenzo thought her and Obito’s relationship was ‘unhealthy’ or ‘co-dependent’. She just needed him to give her an idea on how to make things right.

“Fine. If you’re so dead set on hurting yourself, I won’t tell you what I really think. I guess if you want to make it right, you should just apologize. Give him a gift or something.”

Tenzo suggested with a shrug, turning back to his laptop. It was a simple answer and she supposed it was the only real option. She couldn’t back out on watching Sasuke now, so taking it back and going with Obito was out of the question. All she could do was tell him she was sorry and hope he forgave her.

With that, she said her goodbyes to Tenzo and left the shop, intent on making things right.

————————————————

The rest of the day she spent running personal errands and collecting items to prepare for her apology to Obito. First stop was the grocery to pick up some toiletries for her stay at the Uchiha house. Then to clean her car out and prepare for the plans she had that evening. The final stop was Obito’s favorite restaurant. It was an Italian place about a 20 minute drive away from town and she’d called ahead their order. About an hour beforehand she’d sent Obito a single, cryptic, text.

Me: ‘Hey. I’m gonna make this up to you. Can I pick you up at 7?’

Whore-ito: ‘I guess… It’s gonna have to be pretty big though.’

He’d replied at the time, causing Atsuko to smile down at her phone in anticipation. Oh, he had no idea.

After she’d gotten everything ready, Atsuko pulled into the driveway at the Uchiha house at 7pm on the dot. It wasn’t even necessary for her to send him a text, he was ready to go, exiting the front door with his head down and his hands stuffed into his the pockets of his baggy black jeans. An oversized Pink Floyd t-shirt clung to his lithe frame and she noticed he had the same black beanie on as yesterday. She watched him for a moment as he descended the stairs from the porch, finally turning his head up to look at the sky for a second. The golden light during this time of day illuminating him in a way that made Atsuko’s heart stutter in her chest. She sucked in a short breath, forcing her eyes away from him as he neared the car, gently rapping his knuckles against her window in greeting before rounding the vehicle to get into the passenger seat.

When he pulled the passenger door open, the hinges on the old metal door creaking loudly, he stopped for a moment before climbing in because his seat was occupied. Sitting in the passenger seat was a small blue gift bag, large enough to hold a couple small items. Obito stared at it for a moment before sighing and grabbing the bag, holding it as he folded himself into the vehicle. Atsuko turned in her seat excitedly, grinning at him as he stared down at the issue paper.

“Go on, open it!”

She encouraged, pulling her leg up in the seat as she turned to face him. He was wearing a skeptical expression and he hadn’t said a word since getting in the car, but she figured he’d accept her apology any way. His dark eyes flicked over to her, narrowing the slightest bit as she chuckled, shoving his shoulder lightly. With that, he finally smiled a little before beginning to pull the white tissue paper from the bag.

The first gift he pulled out was a box of condoms. Immediately, he fixed her with an unimpressed scowl, but Atsuko put her hands up in defense.

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. Those are for the makeup sex we’re gonna have later.”

She stated, pulling a chuckle from him as he set the box of condoms down on his thigh. When he reached back into the bag this time, he came out with a half pint of his drink of choice, some expensive whiskey that he never had the money to buy. He gave her a judging look

“I know it’s expensive… but there’s more.”

Atsuko goaded, tapping the paper bag gently. Obito looked at her for a moment more before turning back to the bag and pulling out the other item’s she’d bought for him. A couple of them were silly thing. Little trinkets from some dollar store and packs of gum and candy she knew he liked. But at the bottom of the bag sat the most important gift of all.

It was small, velvet, drawstring baggie. Obito’s nose wrinkled in confusion, still having not said a word since he’d gotten in the car. But, he pried open the bag with a curiosity she’d never seen in him before. When he pulled out what was inside, he held it up between them in the palm of his hand. Nestle there, was a braided, black, leather bracelet. It was simply enough, but the part that stuck out was a pendant tied in the middle. A gold colored sun. Obito looked up at her again in question and she quickly raised her right arm, rolling the sleeve of her flannel up reveal her wrist. She was wearing the same bracelet, except hers pendant was a silver colored moon.

“I know it’s silly, but I just figured… well, we can still get those tattoo’s if you want. But, this was more immediate. And I thought you’d like em. Is it too mushy?”

Atsuko asked, stuttering over her words as Obito’s eyes flicked between her wrist and the bracelet in his hand. There was another, long, beat of silence in the car. Then, Obito was reaching for her with his free hand, gripping her jaw between his thumb and fingers, pulling her forward to close the liminal space between them. Atsuko moved easily, taking no more coaxing. Though, she did notice that as soon as their lips touched, the guitar intro on Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here kicked on, playing softly through the car radio. A chill ran up her spine, and she was grasping him immediately, hand fisting the fabric on the front of his hoodie.

The kiss was unlike any they’d shared before. His grip on her chin was almost desperate, hot fingers tips pressing into the muscles there to coax her to open her mouth. Atsuko did so gladly, unable to do anything but comply when he moved closer to her in the car, flipping up the arm rest so he could slide across the bench seat with ease. Obito had her crowded against the driver side window, the hand on her jaw eventually moving to press against her hip. The way his lips were moving against hers, tongue delving into her mouth… it made her light headed. It felt like he was pouring every thing he had into the kiss. Like it might be his last kiss ever.

When he finally pulled away, Atsuko gasped for air, and she slowly opened her eyes, only to find him still seated happily in her personal space, staring down at her with a look she couldn’t read. She gave him a shaky smile, releasing the death grip on his hoodie.

“So… you like the bracelet?”

Atsuko asked, drawing a laugh from Obito as he dropped that intense expression in favor of smiling and scooting back to his side of the vehicle.

“I love the bracelet. And everything else. Thank you, Atsuko… it really wasn’t necessary. But thank you.”

He answered, causing her to readjust in her seat with a dramatic gasp.

“Of course it was necessary! You’re my best friend, Obito. I don’t ever want you to be upset with me and what I did was really inconsiderate… And the gifts don’t stop there! I got your favorite Italian food for dinner. We are going to star gaze and enjoy our meal.”

Atsuko replied, grinning as she threw the car in reverse to pull out of his driveway. She was so delighted by his acceptance of her apology, she didn’t notice the way his smile faltered. Or hear the words he mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah… best friend.”

-----------------------------------------

Taglist: @iamliacamila

#naruto #naruto shippuden #obito uchiha #obito x reader #obito x oc #Kakashi Hatake #kakashi x oc #kakashi x reader #burnouts #naruto au #madara uchiha #Sasuke Uchiha #shisui uchiha #akatsuki #akatsuki au #naruto fanfiction #ao3

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

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touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 4

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 3k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE]

You are not sure what to make of it, but you feel like the awkward atmosphere between you and Tobirama seems to have multiplied by the tens. You did not feel like this around him before, but now, every time he addresses you, it makes your insides twist and you just want to avoid him as much as possible.

At the same time, Tobirama’s words seem more curt and he often repeats the same sentences like “ridiculous” and “get to work” as if those are the only words he can say.

A part of you wants to make fun of him for sounding constipated around you, but you don’t think that the two of you have established a rapport that allows you to do so. You know you have been teasing him nonstop ever since you started working together, but now that he mistook your interaction with his brother as flirting, every time you open your mouth to say something to him, your throat decides to croak and you end up staring at him with your mouth hanging open.

You cannot stand it.

You sigh and decide to stretch your hands up, garnering a glance from Tobirama.

You swear if he utters “work” one more time, you are going to drag him outside to breathe in some fresh air. Maybe the nice change of scenery will make his mind restart so that he can say other words for once.

“I’m curious,” Tobirama starts.

You stare at him, not believing what you are hearing from him. Finally, something else he can say to you.

“What is your relationship with Uchiha Madara?”

Maybe he should go back to grunting out one word sentences to you.

You narrow his eyes at him. He keeps asking unwarranted questions.

You press your lips together, thinking about how you want to reply to him. “Well,” you start. “He’s someone I’m very grateful to.”

Tobirama frowns. “Why?”

“Excuse me? Have you never had someone be grateful to you?”

Tobirama suddenly looks pissed, but he quickly fixes his expression.

You let out a burst of laughter. “Don’t tell me you think I’m also flirting with him,” you grin playfully to hide the ire behind your tone.

Tobirama looks away.

“Relax, he’s a friend and kind of a mentor to me,” you tell Tobirama. “Nothing more. He helped me get accustomed to Konoha. I think he just felt sorry for me, but thanks to him, I’ve had a good start here.”

Tobirama glances at you, his expression unchanging but for once he is not looking at you as if you committed a crime.

Well, this is probably the first true thing you have said to him. Your heart ponders at this, but you decide that it should be okay. It’s not entirely specific, but it’s not trivial either. You wonder if you should elaborate more.

“So, there’s no grand plan of me wooing the founding fathers of Konoha,” you joke and Tobirama rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I am not interested,” Tobirama huffs and he straightens even more on his seat.

You smile at this, and you go back to your work. “Alright. Are we good, then?”

Tobirama turns his head to you, and you meet his eyes.

“Fine,” Tobirama reverts back to his automated one word responses.

You nod, and you detect that the air between you has somewhat cleared.

At the end of the day, as you bid your goodbye to Tobirama, you slip him a piece of paper with some doodles of ninja fighting and a note saying ‘have a good day’ on it in your attempted fancy writing.

“Really?” Tobirama deadpans.

“For our budding friendship,” you joke.

Tobirama’s eyes narrow at you. “We are only working together, we’re not here to make friends.”

You roll your eyes and slip the paper further into his sights. “Co-workers?” You suggest.

“Not even close.”

“Oh, come on!”

Tobirama rubs his forehead. “Fine.” He grits out. “Co-workers.”

“And then future friends,” you include playfully.

Tobirama scowls. “Go home.”

“That’s not a no!” You wag a finger to him. “So it’s up in the air, yes?”

“No,” Tobirama says, his fingers twitching–probably itching to crumple the paper in front of him. “And don’t do this again, this is a waste of paper.”

You sigh. “Okay, okay, fine. Have a good night.”

Tobirama says nothing as you exit the room, and you let out a deep breath you have been holding. At least, he’s talking to you normally now.

You chuckle to yourself.

Tobirama is so weird, you think.

The thought brings a small smile on your lips.

Tobirama stares at the doodle in front of him, his focus beyond repair for the meantime. He assumes the long-haired man in the picture is his brother, with a blob of red as his armor, and the one next to his brother is him, with a hair so huge and spiky that it looks like lightning has struck from the sky and connected with his head.

Tobirama stares at it, unsure of what to make of it. Why are you always making fun of him?

He sighs, and he looks to the window, where the sky has changed to a swathe of pink and purple, indicating that the sun has set and the night will soon take over. His eyes go to the table and he notices engravings on the table itself on your side of the table, and he sighs, trying to fight away the signs of a headache. Though for a moment, to his chagrin, he found it a little funny. He did say save some paper.

Tobirama thinks about what you had told him about Madara, and he ruminates on this. Why would Madara take you in, help you get settled and feel sorry for you? How did you even get here, and why did you choose Konoha, of all places?

Tobirama rubs his forehead, his thoughts circling in on you. It’s not common that he’s not able to figure out someone in a few seconds. He prides himself on feeling out people, whether it be their chakra, their personality or their thoughts, but the only thing he has learned about you is that you are loud .

He can’t even figure where you are from or which family you came from based on your chakra signature, which is not all that impressive. Compared to your presence, it is almost silent. It is there, but they are like waves in a low-tide, unable to do any harm. They ebb at some places, like something is disrupting its flow, and at times it feels almost nonexistent. You do not have any affinity for the elements either, and even with taijutsu, there should be a flare of chakra in you, but there is nothing.

He knows that you are skilled with blades because the way you hold and carry it indicates that you have drawn it a thousand times. He knows that you have fought before because you are able to surprise him in a match.

He can keep guessing who you are, but you somehow prove him wrong and it bothers him.

He attempts to get back to work, but his stomach grumbles in complaint, which means that he really cannot focus anymore. Deciding to indulge his uncooperative stomach, he exits the Hokage mansion and trails towards the more active part of the village, where various restaurants are starting to pop up.

People recognize him as he walks and they offer polite and formal greetings towards him. He greets back, but he does not stop for shirt conversations. Those exhaust him.

Ahead, lamps are strung by posts to light the street. The street grows in volume as more and more people flood in, coming and going. Someone shouts nearby, and laughter springs everywhere. Splashes of red and gold appear in his peripheral vision, and the smell of fried food wafts in the air.

Tobirama takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Suddenly, his eye catches you, running towards him with a carefully wrapped package in your hands. He notices you holding it securely, and as you get closer, he notices that they are packed food. You pass by him, and Tobirama turns to see where you are heading.

It is not far, as he can see you stop by an alleyway and walk in.

Tobirama pauses at this, and against his better judgement, he decides to follow you and see what you are up to.

He hears your voice first, and when he sees you, he feels unprepared to react at the sight of you handing the freshly cooked food to two children squatting by the trash.

"Be careful," you tell them, your voice laced with worry.

"Thank you so much, nee-chan!" The boy cries out.

"Can I ask where your parents are?" You inquire.

"Uhm...well," the boy starts hesitantly, his eyes swimming with fear. "We...don't have parents anymore."

The boy looks down. "We came here to find safety."

Tobirama notes the change on your face. You look sad, and Tobirama wonders what is causing it.

"Well, can you tell me your names?" You address both children with a gentleness Tobirama has never heard before.

Maybe that is how you talk to others that are not him.

"I'm Kaito," the boy says. "My sister doesn't talk much, but her name is Yuna."

You offer them a kind smile. "Well...enjoy your food, okay? If you ever need help, come find me. I live near the forest in the new building recently built there. I'll bring you guys some blankets if you stay here."

Kaito stares at you, his eyes swimming. "Thank you very much, nee-chan."

You sigh, and you reach over and pat his head. Tobirama backs away from sight to hide himself.

You run past him, and Tobirama elects to stand where he is so that he can watch the kids while you get them their blankets.

Tobirama suddenly frowns as a thought comes to mind. There is a newly built orphanage in the village now.

"Tobirama?" You cut him off his thoughts and Tobirama snaps to your attention and it occurs to him that this is probably the first time you called his name without insulting him in some way.

Tobirama had not noticed your arrival. He must have been standing here for a while.

He should have moved and went on with his life.

"We should take them to the orphanage." He looks down at your arms where you are carrying a blanket, a change of clothes and a knife.

Tobirama grows uneasy as you stare at him, even though the surroundings are almost dim.

"Okay," you finally said and you called the kids out.

Tobirama glances at the two tiny children, suddenly noticing how thin and grimy they are.

"This is Senju Tobirama," you introduce him. "He can help us find a place to stay warm, okay? He's a good person." You reassure them.

Tobirama attempts at a small smile, but he feels your eyes on him and he ends up grimacing. He also zeroes in on the fact that you called him a good person in front of these kids. He doubted that you even thought of him that way, but hearing it from you is a little refreshing.

"Follow me," Tobirama walks ahead, unable to stand still under your gaze.

You are looking at him strangely and Tobirama is not sure what to make of it.

Thankfully the walk is not too long, but it means that Tobirama has to spend the rest of the time walking with you in this awkward silence that seems to pervade whenever the two of you are near each other. It is now completely dark, save for the occasional lanterns guiding the way, but it does nothing to alleviate the tension. Instead, he turns to himself inwardly and makes a mental note on formalizing how to accept refugees in the future so that random people that have the potential to be a threat cannot enter the village easily. It is still so young and he is not sure how it will hold when there is some disorder.

After dropping the kids off in the orphanage and signing some documents and talking with the ward there, the two of you head back to the center of the village, where the night scene comes alive. He is tempted to say something to fill the air, but he is also waiting for you to say something because he assumes that you would normally talk when there is nothing to talk about.

Alas, he is wrong again.

He never thought that he would be the first one to say a word.

“You look chirper,” he comments. He glances at your face, noting how relaxed it is compared to earlier. You also do not look as glum.

“Yeah, well,” you start, scratching your cheek lightly. “It’s all I wanted to do is–you know, make a difference and all that shi-stuff.”

Tobirama hums, amused at your slip of a curse word. He senses the truth in your words and for once, he finds himself relaxing around you.

“I know you probably think that I don’t mean that since I tend to joke around, but trust me when I say that I see a lot of good things happening here. Children outside of Konoha are not so lucky,” you say.

“Yeah,” Tobirama agrees.

Tobirama feels your eyes on the side of his face and he swallows.

" I was not so lucky," your words falter as you begin them, but Tobirama sees the determined look on your face and it surprises him even more. "But I am now in a place where I can help people out."

Tobirama glances at you again, surprised at your sudden confession to him.

"Ah well, I talked too much, you might start to think I’m nice," you joke.

"I do not find anything wrong with that," Tobirama replies, and for a moment the two of you locked eyes.

Tobirama hears your stomach grumbles and you let out a shy laugh.

"Whoops," you announce, chuckling.

Tobirama sighs, but he is not exasperated. "Let’s go."

"Where? Back to work? Don't tell me I missed some pages to work on because I was very thorough today."

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. "Only today?"

You smirk and Tobirama looks ahead of him, unable to stare at you straight on.

"My brother and I weren't so lucky either," Tobirama begins, feeling that it's only right that he says something back that is equivalent to your confession. "All we knew was war when we were children. So many people we cared about died, but despite all that, elder brother was very ahead of his time. He's the one who dreamed of building this village."

You smile softly at him. "Well, look at it now. It's something."

"More than something," Tobirama insists. "It’s a new world."

"Tell me something, Senju Tobirama. Is this how you saw the world too?"

Tobirama stares straight ahead. For a moment, he considers not answering, but his mind gets the best of him. "No," he admits. "The world is always in peril."

"Then why partake in such an ambitious dream?"

Tobirama tenses up. He gives you an inch, and you are backing him up a mile without his control. Your question is too close in a way that it shows his deep devotion to his family and this village.

You did not even have to try.

"You wanted to make his dreams come true, right?" You prod on.

Tobirama's fingers twitch, desperate to hold something. You are right and it almost pisses him off.

"It’s his dream," Tobirama answers curtly. "But he dreams too much. He did not think of what the cost could be and the work that comes with it."

"And you covered that part," you state.

"Right," Tobirama murmurs thoughtfully.

"I can respect that." You smile at him, and you bump your shoulder against his arm.

Tobirama finds that he did not mind, but he is still a little annoyed that you of all people have seen through him.

However, he also realizes that the awkward atmosphere between the two of you has dissipated.

It's a curious thing.

He sees you walking ahead, and before he knows it, he is reaching out to grab your arm. He is able to stop himself, but his fingers brush against the back of your arm. His hand forms a fist as a form of restraint.

You turn to him with a questioning look.

"Dinner," he almost stammers, but his voice is even. "It’s this way. My treat."

Your face lights up, but you cringe as your stomach announces once again that it needs food.

"Sounds great to me," you smile at him again, and Tobirama finds himself hurrying his steps ahead of you.

He thinks about the project and how it is almost finished. Just two more months of this, and he can be done and you can get out of his hair.

That was the agreement, after all.

He hears your footsteps catch up to him, and now, he finds you walking by his side.

If Tobirama thought that you were a con-man before, then he will probably think that you are now.

Today, he has students doing some chakra training by walking on water, and you have opted to watch and listen to Tobirama’s elaborate instructions instead of joining them and demonstrating how to do it along with Tobirama.

The truth is, you have no idea how to do that. You never learned how to because you had no formal shinobi training. All you know how to do is fight for your life, very desperately at that.

You watch the kids, and you cannot help feel the bitterness that you have tried so hard to let go. You did not have this when you were younger. All you knew were sickness after sickness, vials of poisons and medicine, and a hazy mind and a weak body.

Years of your life were lost to parents who failed to protect you because of their twisted beliefs and their inability to stand their ground.

You were lost and without a guide.

You consider sneaking away, but you feel like you and Tobirama are finally on the same page and doing that might not help your case with him.

You are aware of his piercing gaze being directed towards you, but he doesn't call you out for not participating or push you to do the exercise with the kids.

You stand to the side uselessly, using your foot to draw random circles on the ground, until the kids are dismissed and Tobirama is walking up to you with a strict expression. He looks like he might yell at you or scold you, but surprisingly, he does none of that.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Tobirama comments tersely.

You look up to meet his hard eyes and you shrug. “I did not think that you’d notice.”

Tobirama gives you a very hard and long look, and it burns through you.

“What?” You snap, your facade long gone.

You see Tobirama’s eyes widen slightly, but they are back to his usual scrutinizing gaze.

“If you have a problem, it’s best that you communicate it with me. We are working together professionally.” Tobirama does not back down. “We are both adults.”

You press your lips into a thin line, and you look towards the flowing river, where the kids tried their luck to walk across it.

Tobirama turns to walk away, and you grip the hilt of your sword in instinct.

It is now or never.

“I don’t know, okay?” You suddenly blurt out. “I did not have any of this when I was a kid.”

Tobirama stops and he turns to you questioningly. You observe from his demeanor that he is not particularly judgemental towards you at the moment. He looks at you with an understanding he extends to his students.

You turn towards the river again. “I…”

Tobirama waits, neither impatient nor placating. He does not even look like he’s in a hurry.

You grit your teeth, and then slowly let out a deep breath through your mouth. You glare at Tobirama.

“Do not ever speak of this to anyone,” you warn him. “This is between you and me.”

“I promise,” Tobirama says, his tone serious.

You look at his face, your eyes tracing his set jaw and the three perfect markings that are tattooed on his cheeks and his chin.

“I did not have this when I was young,” you tell him vaguely, but you realize that you will get nowhere if you keep evading the subject. “I don’t know, maybe you can help me, but maybe it’s too late…”

“You should get to the point,” Tobirama finally says and he folds his arms. “And if it’s help you need, you only need to ask.”

You stare at the ground uneasily as you feel your face heat up.

“I need your help because when I was young, I did not learn how to be a proper shinobi,” you say in a rush. “That walking on water lesson? I never had that. I don't know how to do that.”

You look at him helplessly and watch Tobirama’s neutral expression, seeing the gears turning in his mind.

“I had to figure out everything myself,” you say in a low, dark tone.

Tobirama nods, but then for the first time, he smirks at you. “That’s not a lot for me to go by, but it’s a nice change to see you not put up a farce for once.”

You glare at him. “Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers.” You fold your arms as well. “And you’ve noticed it, haven’t you? That I do not have a good, consistent chakra flowing in me.”

Tobirama pauses, and his eyes glow for a moment.

“Shouldn't your closest friend know this?” Tobirama inquires sarcastically.

“He doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “Or maybe he does, but he chooses not to bring it up.”

“Why did you bring it up?”

“Because I’m not stupid and I refuse to let my shortcomings get the best of me,” you snap.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow.

You meet his eyes, throwing your pride away and mustering all the determination you can find in yourself. “And I want to learn. So teach me. Help me. We only have two months and I know the timing couldn’t be better, but that’s all the time I need.”

Tobirama turns to the river, and a breeze brushes by, sweeping the grass, flattening it, and carrying dry leaves and scattering them about. It picks up strands of your hair, and it moves the hems of your clothes, and when the breeze has passed, Tobirama has his reply ready.

“Very well,” Tobirama folds his hands behind his back and turns to you. “I’ll do it and keep your secret.”

Your eyes widen, and you feel elated. “That was unexpected.”

Tobirama narrows his eyes.

“But...thank you. That means a lot to me.”

You can't help but give him a shy smile, and Tobirama glances at you from the sides of his eyes, his ears and neck turning pink.

"Well, when do we begin?"

Tobirama lets out a sigh through his nose and gives you a funny look. "Now. Get running."

"What?" You stare at him with disbelief. "Now? It's almost lunch."

"Yes, now." Tobirama's face goes back to its hard and strict expression, his eyebrows almost furrowing and his lips and jaw set.

You take a deep breath, and you break into a run and Tobirama jogs lightly after you. You try to get ahead of him, but Tobirama keeps up just as easily, his long legs pumping to match yours. The two of you run towards the forest, jumping over decaying logs and rocks. You hear Tobirama's rush of breath near you, the snap of sticks underneath his feet, and the ruffle of his clothes as his body moves. You focus ahead, and you see a wall of rock blocking the edge of this forest. Tobirama keeps going and you follow him, but you speed past him so that you can get to the rock first.

However, Tobirama does not stop there.

"What are you doing?" Tobirama barks. "We're going back."

You catch your breath and you watch him go ahead of you. Of course, you expected nothing less from the Senju Tobirama. You smirk to yourself, and you run to his direction, determined to get there first as well.

A burst of laugh escapes your lips as you pass him by, and you jump over a small path. You turn towards him, completely exhilarated and Tobirama stutters in his steps.

"Not bad," Tobirama comments coolly as he gets closer to you.

You pout playfully. "I was here first."

"That was not a race," Tobirama says. "And if it was, you'd lose."

"Wow." You roll your eyes, but there is no malice between the two of you. This is the first time the atmosphere between the two of you had eased enough for the two of you to joke around with each other willingly. "Such hubris, my lord."

Tobirama's eyes narrow. "I think you should just stop calling me with a title. You give it no purpose anymore."

"Are you hurt?" You say mockingly.

Tobirama sighs and he pinches the bridge of your nose.

You chuckle easily. "Alright, Tobirama."

Tobirama glances at you, a slight frown etched to his face but he does not look displeased. He nods and you shrug, and you find that spending time with Tobirama like this is not so bad. You are not sure about tomorrow since your interactions with him are like going through hills and valleys, but at least, it does not feel like you are Tobirama's mortal enemy anymore.

[CHAPTER FIVE >>>]

#avversiera writes #angelica writes #'til death do us part #Senju Tobirama #Tobirama Senju #tobirama x reader #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x you #senju tobirama x you #tobirama x y/n #naruto fanfiction

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silverfootstepswrites · 4 years

Text

Eden: BLEACH [1]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

“I have been loved,” she said, "by something strange, and it has forgotten me.” -Djuna Barnes

++++

Do not give your heart away.

The scrying bones’ warning lingered in Sakura’s head. She shambled through her morning routine, bumping into door frames and buttoning her shirt up wrong. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, just staring.

Madara stood by the stove, wincing as he sipped his too-hot coffee. He made a sweeping gesture with his finger. The pancakes in the pan flipped- perfectly golden brown.

He finally noticed her and clicked his tongue.

“What are you? Five?” he nagged as he gestured at her crooked shirt. Sakura followed his gaze. It took a second for her to realize what was wrong. She turned around to rebutton her shirt. And then her gaze fell on his face.

“You’ve got an eye booger, Papa,” she pointed out.

Madara rubbed his left eye.

“No. The other one.”

He rubbed the other eye.

That made her smile a little.

Madara sniffed. “Get the syrup. You want orange juice?”

He turned away from her. And then he stiffened when he felt her hug him from behind, her hands clenching tightly into the front of his shirt.

“You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?” he wondered, twisting around to look at her. But she only held on harder, burying her face against his back.

They just stood there. Not speaking. She had no idea what expression he had on his face.

“I’m fine, Papa,” she finally croaked, her voice shaking.

“You’re…” Madara sighed. “You’re a really shitty liar.”

Madara finally managed to pry her off him to finish making breakfast. They sat across from each other at the smooth wooden table. Madara scrutinized her as she cut her pancakes into little squares. Her chin jerked up when she heard him mutter “ah, shit”. He had poured maple syrup into his coffee.

As Madara set the glass bottle aside, Sakura suddenly remembered another day just like this. Only laughing and reading texts from her phone. On a day just like this. One of the many she had seen in that long dream.

Sakura looked down at her plate. Her knife and fork still held in her hands.

“Not hungry?”

“Huh?” she mumbled, looking up again.

Madara was staring at her again, his maple-flavored coffee pushed to the side.

“You want something else?” he asked her, already twisting in his chair. He flicked his finger to open the refrigerator. The jars of pickles and other condiments jingled together with the movement. Madara begin swishing his finger back and forth, pushing around some bacon and a carton of eggs. He found some yogurt and a carrot.

“No. No, I’m… It’s good,” Sakura said, spearing a piece of pancake and popping it into her mouth. It was fluffy and sweet. Just the way he had cooked them for her since she was 8.

Madara turned back to her, still frowning. He made a sweeping gesture and the fridge door closed behind him.

“Maybe you should take a day off today. Shisui can cover your appointments,” he suggested.

Sakura shook her head.

Work was dependable. It would keep her mind off of things.

“I need to brew more sleeping draught. They say mine tastes best,” she insisted.

Madara’s lips thinned. But he nodded. Because he always let her do what she thought best. He was wonderful that way.

“You’ll be home early, right?” he asked. “I’ll make something good.”

“Yeah. I don’t have any plans,” she said.

On her way to the dream shop, she left Gaara a message and said she wasn’t feeling well. He seemed worried and asked when they could reschedule. She didn’t reply. She blocked his number instead.

The store was already open when she arrived. Sakura felt a faint hum in the air as she rested her hand on the doorknob. Bells chimed as Sakura stepped into the shop. The dreams sat on the shelves glowed white for a moment when she stepped inside. Then they faded back to their natural colors.

Her eyes fell on Shisui who leaned against the counter, his elbow on the register. His eyes widened when Sakura rushed forward to throw her arms around him.

“Woah! What’s up with you?” he demanded. But he hugged her back. Shisui might have been the only Uchiha in history who was a fan of physical affection. She squeezed him a little harder. Laughing, Shisui patted her back. But when she didn’t laugh in return, Shisui’s laugh faded.

“Hey. Did something happen?” he demanded.

“I’m just… just really happy you’re here,” she replied, pulling back enough that he could see her smile. Shisui tilted his head to one side, searching her face. Slowly, a smile appeared on his face too.

“Alright, Sakura. Good to see you too.”

Itachi received a similar welcome when he came downstairs. His client’s nightmare resolved, he left the woman to get some sleep. As soon as he appeared, Sakura barreled into him with a hug too. Itachi gave Shisui a questioning look over her head. Shisui shrugged in response.

Soon, it was time for Shisui to get ready for his morning appointment. He ruffled Sakura’s hair as he headed for the creaky stairs. Itachi put his coat on to go buy some coffee as soon as Sasuke arrived at the shop to watch the counter. Sasuke waved a lazy hand at her when she told him that she would be in the back.

A while later, she heard the door creak open.

“That’s alder, not peppermint.”

Sakura stared down at the bubbling cauldron. The light green leaves sat in her open palm. She blinked a few times. And when she lifted her chin, she found Sasuke leaning against the doorway. He held out a paper cup of coffee.

“Sorry, what?” she finally said.

He wrinkled his nose at her. “What’s up with you?” he wondered. He crossed the room to snatch the leaves out of her hand. He placed the correct ingredient in their place.

“You’re being weird,” Sasuke then added, scowling as he scrutinized her face.

That was fair. She had thrown her arms around him in a huge hug the minute he walked into the shop. Sasuke was not big on physical affection. She knew that. Still, he tolerated the hug for a few seconds before he was shoving her away.

“I...uh... sorry,” Sakura mumbled. She tilted her hand. Let the leaves drift down, landing in the hot potion. She stirred the liquid three times. Banged the spoon against the side of the cauldron for luck- just the way Madara had taught her. She accepted the coffee and opened the lid. Little dots of cinnamon drifted on top- just the way she liked it. Itachi never forgot.

Sasuke’s expression softened. “Is everything okay?”

Sakura closed her eyes. Trying to gather her thoughts.

“Um... I’m not sure,” she confessed. When she opened her eyes, she had an idea.

“I could use some family time. Should we ask Shisui and Itachi to get dinner?” she suggested.

Sasuke’s eyebrows rose as he thought. He looked up as he thought it over. And then he nodded. “Yeah, I should be free this weekend. Let’s ask.”

Itachi had taken a job a part-time job at the police’s Demonology Division last year. Some people called them demon hunters, which was, according to Itachi, “both wrong and ignorant”.

He mentioned this again when they all met on Saturday. Shisui popped a piece of broccoli into his mouth and chewed too hard. When he met Sasuke’s gaze, they rolled their eyes together. They had all heard this speech about a hundred times before.

They all knew that Itachi’s job was more about gathering information on demons and cataloguing them. Sometimes he had to go out and catch them too. But even then, it was more about rehabilitation than capture. After all, demons were just rogue spirits who had failed to uphold a contract.

Sakura threw Shisui a pleading look.

Taking pity on her, Shisui cleared his throat. “Okay, enough about that, Itachi. Why don’t we talk about something more important?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Like how Sakura’s date went the other day?” Shisui suggested instead.

Itachi’s eyes slid over to Sakura. Then back down to his carton. He picked through the contents with his chopsticks.

"Date? Was he nice?” he asked. He looked up at Sakura.

Chin sunk into her turtleneck, Sakura shrugged.

“I didn’t see him. It’s whatever,” she mumbled.

It was Sasuke’s turn to shoot her a look. He snorted.

“Whatever?” Sasuke repeated. “You wouldn’t shut up about it before it happened. What do you mean ‘whatever’?” He leaned over to peer into Itachi’s carton of food. Itachi tilted it toward his brother, but he kept his eyes focused on Sakura. Sasuke fished out a piece of baby corn and popped it into his mouth.

“Did something happen?” asked Itachi.

“I’m not gonna see him, okay? So just drop it!” Sakura snapped.

Sasuke dropped another piece of baby corn, chopsticks fumbling. He looked from Itachi to Shisui.

Shisui scratched his cheek. “Oh. Uh... Guess you really mean it,” he tried to laugh.

Itachi’s forehead wrinkled. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Sakura shook her head. “Just... I don’t want to see him again. Drop it.”

Shisui held his hands up. “Alright. Dropped,” he agreed.

Itachi got up to choose a movie. He and Shisui debated a few before they settled on a newer film.

As the opening scene lit up the screen, Sasuke nudged Sakura with his elbow. She glanced at him.

‘You alright?’ he mouthed.

Sakura nodded.

Halfway through the movie, Sakura felt pressure building up in her temples. Mumbling an excuse about going to the bathroom, Sakura slipped out of the room. She stumbled down the stairs. The wood creaked under her feet.

“Papa?” Sakura called.

There was no answer. And for a moment, she felt the same sense of panic rising in her throat. But then a silvery-blue water spirit flitted out of the bathroom. It hovered over to Sakura, landing on her collarbone.

“In the library, little one,” it squeaked. And maybe it felt Sakura’s heart pounding because it tilted its head.

“Why are you fearful?” it questioned her.

Sakura pressed her lips together. She shook her head, mustering a smile.

“It’s nothing. Thank you,” Sakura replied before she continued down the stairs. She pushed open the door that led to a spiraling staircase that wound down and down. She blinked when she emerged in the spacious library. Leaning against the balustrade was Madara, an old book in his hand. He lowered his glasses, letting them dangle from the chain around his neck.

“What is it?” he asked.

When Sakura massaged her temples, he indulged her with a smile. He reached for her with his free hand. The tip of his finger touched her head. He yanked. The tangled threads of magic unraveled and then exploded, showering down like little bits of confetti. Madara batted them away with impatient waves.

“What’s the face?” he then demanded.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not a ‘nothing’ face. What’s wrong?” he insisted, closing his book now.

Sakura kept her mouth shut. But she wormed her way under his arm, wrapping her arms around him. Madara blinked. And then he heaved a sigh.

“You really don’t change,” he muttered, patting her back a few times.

By the time she made it back upstairs, she had missed a few important scenes. Shisui offered to rewind it for her, but Sakura refused, settling on the floor beside Sasuke. She grabbed a pillow, hugging it against her chest. Trying her best to focus on the bright colors that flashed across the screen.

The next day, at the dream shop, Shisui cornered her in the break room behind the stairs. Coffee in hand, Sakura muttered “good morning” to him, ready to squeeze past. Instead, Shisui took a step to block the door.

Sakura stared at him now. “What are you doing?”

Shisui stared right back.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.

Sakura blinked. Looked at her coffee. Then up at him. “I’m… drinking coffee?”

“You’ve been acting super weird. Is…” Shisui lowered his voice, ducking towards her, “Did something happen to you that you don’t want to talk about?” His eyes darted around.

Sakura hesitated.

He was right, in a way.

She had seen something she didn’t want to talk about.

Madara’s neck bent at the wrong angle. Beside him, Gaara with a hole in his chest, his hand still clinched around Madara’s arm. Blood creeping across the floorboards, so deep red that it was almost black.

If she thought about it too long, all the smells and sounds of that scene returned to her. She shook her head, trying to banish the memory.

“Just… had a nightmare. That’s all,” she answered.

Shisui’s expression softened. “Oh. Must’ve been pretty bad. I’ll come check on you tonight. I’ll sleep over, okay?” he offered.

And just because she wanted to stop talking about this, Sakura nodded.

That night, Sakura closed her eyes and found herself at the entrance to the dream world. The purple door seemed a little bigger than usual. When she rested her hand on the wood, the places she touched glowed softly. Warm. As if reassuring her. The tangled vines that edged the door shifted a little too.

The corridor was long. And as she walked, she passed doors that were dim and dull. If she tried to reach for doorknob, there was nothing there.

It had taken a few visits to the dream world for her to remember to ask Madara why that was.

“The doors only open if the person is alive. When you die, so does your door,” he explained, lowering his book. Never impatient that she had interrupted his research.

It made sense. The Uchiha family was old. Many people had come and gone over the years- many of them brilliant magic users in different ways. She wished on many occasions that she could meet these people. Just to talk about magic theory with them. Just to understand what kind of thought process had led them to their breakthroughs.

But dreams were tied to the soul. And if there was no soul, there was nowhere to tether those dreams anyway.

Sakura found her door. A minty green, shimmering a little. When she reached, the crystalline doorknob appeared in her hand. She twisted. Pushed. The door to her dream opened up so naturally.

Shisui joined her a little while later. He found her casting a particularly complex dream. He ducked out of the way when Sakura extended an arm, and a bottle went sailing across the room to reach her hand. He stood in the doorway, watching the colors and sounds meld together. There were snippets of laughter. The smells of garlic and soy sauce. A song that sounded familiar.

“Is this… from movie night?” he realized as he stepped inside the room now.

He watched her pull all the swirling sounds and colors together. Her magic squeezed around them, a translucent mist that bent reality around the dreams. As she clenched her hand, the magic contracted too. It applied pressure and heat in all the right ways until the dream condensed into a single crystal.

“It’ll make a nice dream for someone,” she said softly, plucking the crystal from the air. It was another rose quartz. The walls of her room in the dream world were already filled with them. But she couldn’t help it. Dreams about family and friends were her favorite to make. They were always warm. And it was nice to know that this warmth could be used to help someone else- even if just for one night.

“So…” Shisui took the crystal from her hand. He turned it around, examining the gleaming facets. “You wanna talk about this nightmare? Need me to untangle something for you?”

Sakura snatched the crystal back. She tossed it into the air. It hovered for a moment, then found an empty spot on the shelf and slid into place.

“Papa’s better at untangling nightmares than you are. It’s fine,” she replied, a little snootily. As expected, Shisui’s expression crumpled with disgust.

“Ugh. You’re so attached to him. It’s gross.”

She didn’t get mad. She knew he was only half-serious. And as if to prove it, he smiled at her.

“You sure you don’t want to talk?” he asked one more time.

She nodded. “Yeah. I was just being silly… letting something like that get to me.”

Shisui made another face. “It’s not silly,” he insisted.

And because time flowed strangely in the dream world, they heard a distant beeping noise. They fell silent, straining to hear it.

“Is that your alarm or mine?” Shisui wondered.

“I… think it’s… mine,” Sakura guessed.

“Alright then. See you later,” Shisui said. He waved once before the room began to dissolve all around them.

When Sakura opened her eyes, she was lying on her side, one of her arms thrown over her face. Her phone beeped on the nightstand, demanding her attention. She groped around until her finger made contact with the screen. The beeping stopped.

She lay there in the half-darkness of her room. A few slivers of light leaked in through the blinds. But it would be so easy to close her eyes and drift back off to sleep.

She heard creaking footsteps in the hall. Madara’s bleary, uneven footfalls thumped down the steps. And then she heard a drawn-out grunt.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Madara demanded.

“Ugh. Shut up, old man!” snapped Shisui. And then he yelped.

Sighing, Sakura got out of bed to go intervene before they hurt each other.

After a good night’s sleep, Sakura felt more like herself. She buttered a slice of toast, humming a little. Madara scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Feeling better?” he inquired.

“Yeah.”

He gave her a clumsy pat on the head as he went to pour himself more coffee.

Shisui let out a huge yawn. Eyes barely open, he shoveled spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

Sakura rubbed the back of her neck. And then again.

“Papa, I think my tag is scratching me,” she grumbled. Sakura leaned over, pulling her hair to the side.

Madara paused. And then he snickered. “Still such a kid,” he teased her. But he reached over and tucked the label of her shirt back in place.

“There you go, kiddo,” he then said. And then the gentleness was gone as he turned his gaze to Shisui.

“Hurry up and get the hell out of my house,” Madara ordered.

But Shisui, who was used to this by now, completely ignored his uncle as he poured himself another bowl of cereal.

Sakura laughed when Madara transmuted Shisui’s cereal milk into orange juice. And then she laughed even harder when Shisui turned Madara’s stubble bright orange in retaliation.

In that moment, with the autumn sun spilling in through the kitchen window, everything was alright.

#eden #fanfiction #haruno sakura #uchisaku #uchiha shisui #uchiha sasuke #uchiha madara #uchiha itachi #everything is a circle

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tifacatsblog · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari Characters: Nara Shikamaru, Temari (Naruto), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Emotional Whump, Whumptober 2021, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Suna and Konoha at war, you know the rest, Major character death - Freeform, but in a soft way, offscreen major character death Summary:

Two kilometers or so east of the camp lay a border. Just outside of the line of trees that define the changing of climate. A long line of barbed wire on sand, more of a formality than a defense; any genin could easily jump over them. But Suna’s real defense lay on the desert, waiting for fresh meat who can’t differentiate dunes from seal traps.

This border was a warning, a finish and a start line simultaneously.

Glancing above the barbed wire, Temari found what she came here for.

What kind of soldier hates war?

Temari is a shinobi, in her job description there’s lying, kidnapping, maiming, torturing, spying, fighting, and even killing.

Well, perhaps mainly killing.

Point still stands; she is a shinobi and her job is not the kind of job you can be at peace about. Every training is a war against death, as you will be dead if you’re not good at what you do. Every killing is a war against morality, should you hesitate even for a second you risk yourself losing the courage to do it. Every mission she takes, every movement she makes, every breath she takes as a shinobi is a form of war, one way or another.

Her objective in said wars was, mostly, to survive.

(To survive a childhood without friends, to survive an assassin sent to kill her in the night of her tenth birthday, to survive an enemy nin’s kunai aimed at her throat, to survive the threat of being killed accidentally by her little bro-)

This war is no different.

Suna, after that disastrous chunin exam’s failed invasion had begun to make amends with Konoha. It was a process that Temari herself pioneered and supervised, young as she was, to make sure that none of that shit with the Fourth Kazekage and Orochimaru ever happened again, a notion that her brothers (and surprisingly a good chunk of Suna’s forces) agreed to. Suna went on rescue and aid missions assigned by the Fifth Hokage, built a better trade with Konoha, and signed a new peace and alliance treaty with said village.

All of which was done by either Temari’s or her sibling’s hand.

And all of which was for naught.

It started with the debate on who should be the next Kazekage. As Suna’s governance is less of Konoha’s meritocracy and more straight up a hereditary monarchy, the candidates were three teenagers with anger issues and too many killing counts to be comfortably discussed over meal, even for shinobi. Temari was the oldest, with a sharp strategic mind and more diplomacy experience on her hand. Kankurou has more solo mission experience on his hand, and let's face it, the one who actually has a better reputation (compared with The Cruelest Kunoichi and The Shuukaku Monster). Gaara of course, is the powerhouse and the true ‘weapon’ of Sunagakure, and If Temari was allowed to voice her assessment, a stubborn idiot who’s trying to change ways and is now perhaps, more human than Temari ever was. He’s trying to be kind, to be hopeful, to be soft in a way they never know how.

After all the shit Suna went through because Rasa decided to put being shinobi above being human, being Kazekage over being a father, Temari thinks it should be clear who should be the next Kazekage.

Apparently it wasn’t clear for some people.

Civil war broke out, a thing that every hidden village dread, as shown from Konoha’s Madara Uchiha to the situation in Kiri right now. Many things could be the spark that lead to a civil war; a disagreement, a void of power, and especially a disagreement on who should fill the void of power. There were two factions, the one who supported Gaara as Kazekage, and the one who wanted their head on the stake.

Well, perhaps that’s oversimplifying, they deemed The Kazekage clan as it is now has failed to protect Suna and they are demanding power to the people so that Suna may see a brighter future.

…and their head on the stake.

…and another military family on the Kazekage seat.

…said family is known to be power hungry in elite circles.

(Hungry for power in a way that could very well end their world, as is common for shinobi, such greed for power that made them, who came from a family that choose to seal a demon in a child with unstable seal for power, genuinely concerned)

So, war for her and her family’s survival, no big deal right? Right, no big deal. They’ve won, Gaara is on his seat on the Kazekage tower. Temari and Kankurou are his advisor slash right hand slash ambassador slash anything he needed them to be.

Except that when there’s rotten flesh there’s a pack of vultures, ready to feast.

Power over trust, land over alliance, money over peace.

Konoha has a new Daimyo, and this one is ambitious.

Thus the fourth shinobi war broke out.

This time, Suna is the prize.

(Turns out, Gaara needed them to be war generals.

When one shark bite, the blood will draw the other in.

Iwagakure joined the war a few months ago.

The other will be close behind.)

“How are things on the northern border?” Temari asked, finishing her morning ration and standing from the commander table. The tent they were in was worse to wear, but Temari was glad she could sleep in the command tent alone, and not having to share her space with five other jounin.

“Earth’s forces are admirable, but our defense still holds strong,” Her second in command, a kunoichi in her early thirties named Chisaki, said, “Kankurou-sama’s report arrived yesterday, after you went to bed. It states that we should not worry about any breaches on his side of the border,” she finished.

“And?”

“…And I quote ‘Worry about your own damn job Temari, you’re not my mom.’”

That earned a smirk from her, “Son of a bitch,” she glanced at the other shinobi, “And for the record I was calling my father a bitch, not my mom.”

Chisaki, in a show of true professionalism, doesn’t even bat an eye on Temari’s blatant disrespect of the late Kazekage.

(Or maybe, she was too used to Temari’s rant of how The Fourth was a loser who could totally do better and he was a jerk, and he was such a controlling, egoistical piece of sh-)

Temari goes out of the tent, the sun has yet to rise, everything is still and dark.

Chisaki doesn’t follow.

Temari is so glad her second in command doesn’t ask questions and trusts her so completely.

In an hour she has to make morning rounds, she has to make sure their defense is at their best, the soldiers (Are we soldiers? We weren’t supposed to be soldiers. Were we?) fed and ready, their weapons polished and deadly.

In an hour she has to be a general of war again, but for now-

This border was a warning, a finish and a start line simultaneously.

Glancing above the barbed wire, Temari found what she came here for.

Dark eyes watching her sharply from the top of a branch. Green flak jacket, black shirt and trouser, staple of Konoha's basic gear. Long hair tied in a ponytail.

She used to make fun of that ponytail.

(She used to card her hand through it, when he's agreeable and not shy enough to try to evade. She used to say that she uses his hair as training exercises for braiding, lest a mission requires a kunoichi to be able to braid a really troublesome and lazy chunin's hair. She used to marvel at how soft it was, and how such an act filled her with a warm, bubbly feeling.)

She used to nag him to wear proper attire,

("You don't even look like a chunin, and what's this mesh shirt going to protect? Not you, that's the answer."

"Says the woman who wears kimonos to battle."

"Excuse you-")

She used to-

They used to.

(There was a they once upon a time.

Temari used to think that given time they could be something more. Maybe he would finally find the courage to ask her for dinner instead of working so ineffectively she was forced to pull an all nighter with him to meet deadlines, maybe she will finally snap and grab his hand to lead him instead of his shirt and then keep holding it even if it would be inconvenient, maybe on one of their diplomatic meeting they will finally meet each other's eyes instead of stealing glances-

Maybe given enough time, she could lov-)

They used to banter, snipping remarks over snarky ones, having fun with harmless verbal battles.

Now they mostly stand in silence, five hundreds meters apart, barely able to discern the other in such dim light.

Neither of them is going to talk, neither of them is going to even move or make some kind of microexpression. One knows the other too well. Being any other than stone might as well be a traitorous act for their own homeland; it would mean divulging information to the enemy.

Neither of them is going to stop coming here either.

This is a breach in their defense, both Konoha and Suna can make use of this and strike the other.

(Neither of them is going to say anything either.)

These days Temari usually fills their dialogue in her head. Like an actress reading from a script, practicing in front of the mirror. Desperately trying to imagine the other actor's voice so that her own act might seem real.

I will kill you, Temari, brash as ever, would say.

Wow, not even a hello? He would answer, snarky.

I know your weakness, She would insist, I have fought you in the chunin exam once, I have fought you in sparring sessions countless times. I know your strength, your strategy, I know how you think, I know you and your weakness.

It would be Illogical for anyone else but me to kill you.

Counterpoint, he would say, as you have fought me, I have fought you. Everything you have said might be true but so does the other way around; I know you too.

Do you? She would ask, her lips would be set in a line and her eyebrow would be lifted, If you truly know me then you know why I am willing and capable of killing you.

He would be quiet for a minute, and then; I can assure you I can kill you too.

Perhaps, She would cast her gaze away, pretending to mulling it over, and then she would shift her gaze, sharp as a cheetah zoning on a gazelle in the savanna, and she would ask, But would you?

And, as said question would trigger the same reaction he has when confronted with his emotions ever, he would stay silent. And she would fill in for him; No, you wouldn't.

How would you know, I haven't exactly tried. He would half-heartedly rebuke.

And, because this is a totally hypothetical situation in which she is allowed to do anything, she would walk towards said barbed wire, closing in on the no man's land, and she would say, There, you didn't kill me.

A single person, not even crossing the border line is not a threat. He would say, I am not obligated to kill you.

Do not invalidate my strength just to cover your own weakness! She would snarl, she would grab the wires out of emotions and her hands would bleed. You know damn well I can level this forest in a second if I wanted to. I could kill you and all of your friends and your parents and your teacher and everyone else behind this blasted wire if needed. I could, I would, I will.

There's a reason I'm named The Cruelest Kunoichi. You haven't met her yet.

He would stay silent throughout her rant, and even after that. She would continue, out of spite.

Konoha's propaganda, she would spat, has always been reliant on a bond to the people inside of the village. Will of fire, empathy, solidarity, whatever you want to say.

I'll tell you why you wouldn't kill me. She would whisper with a concealed rage.

Because I am your weakness.

And then she would turn around and leave him to stand there alone, stewing on her words.

Except of course that didn't happen.

In reality it was forty five minutes of silence with both of them just standing there, watching each other. Forty five minutes of not talking and filling the silence with an imaginary fight in her head. Forty five minutes of the sun slowly rising up and warming everything around them except themselves.

(How could anything warm the heart of a killer? Especially if you're the one supposed to kill the one you lo-)

Forty five minutes before Shikamaru's face suddenly crumpled in grief and he all but ran away from his spot, to the darkness and safety of the forest.

Forty five and one minute later realization and dread filled Temari's chest.

(One knows the other too well. Being any other than stone might as well be a traitorous act for their own homeland; it would mean divulging information to the enemy-)

Konoha will attack soon.

(I could, I would, I will. )

“What kind of soldier hates war Shikamaru?” She would ask, four to five minutes from blacking out from blood loss, or perhaps something more permanent; severed femoral artery and ruptured spleen would do that. Fair, he has always said that she needs to cover her left side.

“The good kind.” He would answer, crying.

What a crybaby.

#whumptober2021 #no.1 #barbed wire #naruto #fanfiction #offscreen major character death #war

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heartthrummed-a · 3 years

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Character Details Shinkai Kanata is an uncommon name, likely a very unique one as well. And yet, one only needs to listen, to pay a bit of attention, to hear it anywhere in Teyvat. One can especially hear this name carried in whispers in Inazuma, and following this sweet siren’s call is that of a pretty little thing, gentle and ethereal as they offer a smile from their aquatic throne. “What is your wish? Speak anything your heart truly desires, and I will see that it is done.”

This is the regular mantra Kanata repeats several dozen, or perhaps hundreds, of times a day. It is their job as the God of Wishes, after all. Rather, a reincarnation of said god. They cannot remember any details of their past life, but they are told by their loyal followers that they were killed in the Archon War.

Fortunately, Celestia seems to have deemed it fit to reincarnate them in the present day, and their followers, who searched for them even after their passing thousands of years ago, are all too overjoyed by this.

But if that’s the case, why has it felt so wrong ever since the incident with the Mikejima girl…?

Story 1 The Shinkai Cult has always had strong ties to the various organizations across Teyvat, underground or otherwise. This is a simple, sensible practice to ensure their protection, especially in recent years as the electro archon presiding over their nation and the normal citizens within began to grow displeased with their increasing influences. So they established members in the Bakufu, the Fatui-- anywhere that they could possibly get their hands on some power. The Mikejima family was an especially treasured connection for this reason. The mother had ties to the Fatui, and the father to the Bakufu. Even better, they had a son so similar in age to the god they revered. So while their ties protected the cult, their son could protect the God of Wishes, provided they were able to come in contact and form a friendship.

Kanata, for their part, was simply happy to finally have a friend. Mikejima Madara was all they ever wanted, a good and loyal friend who did not put them on a pedestal or keep them at a distance. Granted, they knew such things were to be expected as a god, but they never could help the fact that all they longed for was a genuine friend despite being a god. To them, Madara was a blessing, a godsend-- or had they simply granted their own wish? They weren’t sure for the longest time.

Doubt only began to settle in, though, when they could not cure Madara’s ailing little sister despite their greatest efforts. Why could they not grant this one wish, one so much more important and dear to them than any other?

Story 2 Despite Madara planting the first seed of doubt in Kanata, they still held fast to the belief that they were a god for many years. Even when Madara upped and left them behind (taking away the sole friendship they had, taking their heart and soul with him), Kanata saw no issue with the way life was. To them, it was a simple fact that they were a god, indisputable and proven in the way that wishes truly did come true once confessed to Kanata. But that was only ever because of the forces that the Shinkai cult employed. In the dead of night, when none were around to witness, the cult sent a number of its members to attend to the task. Teach someone a lesson through pain? Fix a neglected fountain overnight? Anything and everything could be done with enough numbers and endless work until the desired result was achieved. This is how the cult has operated since Kanata was “discovered” to be the reincarnated God of Wishes.

All of it, everything that Kanata ever knew, was nothing but lies fed to them, practically shoved down their throat. That included the terrible idea that Madara had abandoned them after all, that he was a rogue trying to undermine and dismantle the cult to watch Kanata fall. And who were they to argue? This was their family, after all. And with so many people corroborating the story… how could they ever believe that Madara was only doing this for their own good?

The answer: they didn’t. Not until it was too late.

Maybe one day, if they ever get to return home, Kanata will finally be able to apologize to Madara for all they have cost him.

Story 3 Kanata fought hard against the collapse of the cult (though they never knew it to be one). They clung so desperately to the only life they ever knew, fearful of what would await when they acknowledged the truth. They wanted to hate Mikejima Madara and Morisawa Chiaki for all they did in shattering that illusion around them, but in truth, they never could. Their combined efforts, after all, were only ever in Kanata’s best interests.

But to be human was terrifying, and Kanata also feared they wouldn’t have Chiaki and Madara to guide them after it was all said and done. And to their credit, they weren’t entirely wrong. The Shinkai Cult fell to pieces, but fragments remained, some still attached to powerful organizations. Fearful of the Bakufu (and the electro archon who was as displeased with Kanata as ever, even after they came to acknowledge their humanity instead of claiming to be divine), Kanata fled Inazuma to escape their clutches. But they feared the remaining Fatui connections too, and that any might recognize them and either kill them or bring them back to Inazuma to either be forced back into false godhood or to be dealt with once and for all by Baal. So, with no place guaranteed safe thanks to the Fatui’s reach across all of Teyvat, Kanata began to live life on the run.

Once a god, now reduced to a mere vagabond. It’s a sad, pathetic story, and if they had the heart, Kanata would laugh.

They don’t, though, so they press on and remind themselves never to sleep in the same place twice.

Story 4 Kanata remembers the night Madara left them. They remember clinging to the back of his shirt, fear in their eyes for the first time as they asked where he was going, when he was coming back, if they could go with him. They remember how he only promised to return as he always did, and they remember how much they hated him when he did not.

Now Kanata wonders if he hates them just the same. They wonder, too, if this is how he felt all those years ago, wanting to be in one specific place (with one specific person) but not being allowed to do so. It’s terrible, heart-wrenching, and Kanata thinks it must be some cruel joke on Celestia’s part. To bless them with such a wonderful friend, to add another into the mix years later, and then tear them all apart from each other… It’s a cruelty only the gods could achieve.

They would know, wouldn’t they? They were a god for a time, after all. Maybe not by technicality, but that changes nothing. In fact, it only serves to make one thing absolutely certain:

Shinkai Kanata hates the gods and all that they stand for.

Story 5 There are rumors in Teyvat of a wandering swordsman. A samurai, really. They say he wields a great torrent and brings a storm with him wherever he goes, a violent tempest that rips apart any unfortunate enough to get too close.

Kanata is quick to point out that these are just exaggerations. They may possess the power of hydro, but they are no god. No tempest follows them, nor are there any great storms that rip apart any who get close. To achieve such power, one would need to be a god, right? And Kanata is no god.

They are, however, a friendly traveler. They will slay monsters and beasts in their travels, or clear out bandit camps and other such dangers. Especially if it is requested of them by any fortunate enough to encounter them in the wilds of Teyvat. They will not accept anything in return, though. Only gods get tributes. Kanata is no god.

Kanata is just a lonely, homesick little human. Their only wish now is to return to Inazuma, to tear Baal down alongside the others in the rebellion, and finally have a chance to rebuild their life. Alas, they are unable to do anything of the sort. So for once, Kanata is the one left to pray. There is no god to grant their wishes, though. There never was one. What god would ever look down upon the humans from their lofty home and Celestia and want to help? It’s a silly notion, a bitter one, and it always fills Kanata with that much more hate.

Isn’t there something they can do to tear even Celestia down from its high throne?

Shinkai Cult The Shinkai Cult was founded shortly after the God of Wishes died a few thousand years ago in the Archon War. For unknown reasons, they were all convinced that their god would reincarnate someday, even when her gnosis was stolen and her life extinguished in a storm that ripped her apart so violently, as cruel as the first electro archon. And so they searched far and wide for thousands of years, over endless generations, until young Kanata was discovered. The cultists learned that they were a distant relative of a priest who worshiped the God of Wishes closely prior to her demise, and was even suspected to have been her lover. Convinced that this child, with hair like the sea the God of Wishes originated from and eyes to match her own, was the reincarnation they were looking for, the cult approached the family to invite them to join their ranks as their ancestor once had, worshipping their child as a reincarnated god.

They would not take no for an answer, though, so when they were refused, young Kanata’s family was swiftly eliminated. The child was taken in by the cult, thereby named “Shinkai” Kanata.

To this day, Kanata does not know of this story. Should there come a day where they do discover this, however…

Kanata would hunt every last member of that cult down and silence them for good.

Vision The hydro archon is the God of Justice, but Kanata does not understand why such a god would ever bestow a vision upon them. Did she simply feel like adding a little something to sell their “sea god” act? Could archons be so willy-nilly? Or is there something behind the so-called gift? Gods are so difficult to understand. If they had their way, Kanata would never have anything to do with them ever again, not even through means of a vision.

They’re aware, though, that they shouldn’t loathe or scorn this gift. After all, many across Teyvat even pray to receive such a divine gift and the power that comes with it. Not to mention, they hail from Inazuma, where many have had their Visions stolen from them (sometimes even violently so) by a tyrant afraid to be challenged (or so they think, anyway). To scorn their vision would be an insult to all those unfortunate souls deprived of what they want or once had… But Kanata can’t help the way that they feel, either.

Nevertheless, they try to keep an open mind about it. It has its practical uses, after all. The powers granted to them through this vision have saved their life (and even those of others) more times than they can count, after all. So for that, they will never truly be ungrateful.

Make no mistake, though. Kanata is not one for justice or any of its ideals. Even if the wandering swordsman of blue is described as a hero, similar to the Darknight Hero of Mondstadt or Aoi of Inazuma, even if they, too, wish to be a hero… They know they carry far too much resentment deep down to ever truly be able to live up to it.

That certainly doesn’t mean they can’t act the part, however.

#❧ ｢ general ｣ ⸻ ooc #❧ ｢ kanata shinkai ｣ ⸻ v02 ( genpact )#IT'S DONE #IT IS SHIT BUT IT IS DONE #HAVE AT IT IDC ANYMORE KSDFVDKJSGDJDFH

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louiserandom · 4 years

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Of Stolen Innocence and Ruined Dates

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara | Rating: E

Summary: Madara wants a date.

Tobirama also wants a date, and normally he’d have to ask his ridiculously overprotective brother’s permission first, but he’s feeling rebellious today.

Hashirama just wants to protect his darling Otouto’s innocence—and what the fuck is Tobirama doing naked in Madara’s bed?!

Read on AO3 or continue under the cut :3 Ko-fi info is in the header!

Madara takes a moment to breathe and silently reassure himself that he is, indeed, an exceptionally courageous man.

He was always able to face his fears and unafraid to check under his bed for terrifying giant spiders when he was a child (even though he would have to scramble to one of his brothers’ room more often than not for additional comfort). The latter is a redundant detail, however, since he’s grown into quite the dangerous, deadly, brilliant war strategist and army leader who sent his enemies fleeing in terror from his gunbai. Madara is, in fact, the only one strong enough to fight the fabled God of Shinobi to a standstill... well, was. As he’d learned soon after Konoha’s formation, Tobirama manages the feat just fine as well.

And therein lies the problem, of course. In Senju Tobirama, who seems perfectly content to keep at his paperwork, ever productive and efficient, completely oblivious to Madara’s struggle.

Madara grinds his teeth, groaning inwardly.

What a dick.

A shameless one at that, always flitting about with that overly lose kimono shirt and tight-fitting breeches, sitting with his legs spread out on his chair, lounging on the small couch in the corner or downright sprawled over his desk like some indecent... something.

Even more annoying is Madara’s inability to keep his eyes off him.

It was so godsdamn easy to deal with him before, going from hate to dismissal as they built the foundations of their village and Tobirama stopped being the chief threat to Madara’s only remaining brother. But things took a drastic turn for the worse (or better, as his mind insisted) that fateful day when Madara did learn that he’s not the only one able to match Hashirama in combat. There was something positively tantalizing and admittedly riveting about Tobirama’s genius, how he pushed his already exceptional water style far enough to be able to manipulate not only blood, but the water contained in Hashirama’s Mokuton, which often enough rendered it powerless. Even more surprising was his insistence on only doing the latter in the privacy of highly secluded sparring matches, lest any enemies of the village discover his Anija’s weak spot and take advantage of it.

That was the first time, really, that Madara ever saw something in the Senju that left him hopelessly intrigued. Intrigued enough toーnot stalk him, obviously, of course not, but to watch Tobirama more closely, to notice what made him tick, pick up on the little details Madara had never had an interest in before. He should have known it was a dangerous path, with every time he noticed Tobirama absolutely melt in the presence of children, every time he found Tobirama playing with cats, dogs, birds, even the wild and freakish animals populating the Forest of Death and cooing over them not unlike Hashirama would. Then there were the glimpses Madara got into Tobirama’s personal life, getting more acquainted with his mind-boggling experiments and audacious research that never left Madara bored. Neither did Tobirama’s impeccable training routine which Madara has grown used to running through together in the mornings, and his eager willingness to dance with Madara during their increasingly frequent spars is an added bonus.

Then there’s his efficiently in all matters ranging from politics to economics and infrastructure, which Madara gets to appreciate more now that he’s fled from Hashirama’s clusterfuck of an office to Tobirama’s working space. But that also led to the inconvenience of seeing those loose kimonos and flattering breeches (which Tobirama only tends to wear around Madara, incidentally, behaving more or less proper when Madara masks his chakra and... observes him). And those striking red eyes and messy locks of hair Madara wants to just grab andー

Well, Madara decides, I'm fucked.

Because even he had to admit, despite his best efforts to strangle his stupid fucking impulses before they manifested into fucking feelings, that somewhere along the line, he developed a dangerously persistent crush on his once enemy.

And the fourth night in a row dreaming about Tobirama writhing under him as he kisses him senseless was Madara last godsdamned straw.

He wants a fucking date.

One fucking godsdamned date. Maybe a good, hard fuck on top of that, and that will be the end of it.

(The end of it, he reiterates in his mind just in case.)

So, Madara reminds himself for the umpteenth time in a row that he is exceptionally brave, and he is not afraid to tell the Senju out, godsdammit. Ask him out, he mentally corrects himself, remembering Izuna’s advice on being civil and subtle and whatnot.

Madara can do that. There’s little in this world he can’t do. And Izuna’s assured him that Madara isn’t imagining things, that Tobirama’s gaze does linger a little too long whenever Madara strips in the summer heat. That Tobirama has made far too many an excuse to align his meetings and breaks with Madara’s schedule, rather than Hashirama’s, Izuna’s or Tōka’s.

This speaks to at least a little interest from his side, right?

Madara's sigh rings loudly in his miserable silence. Because of course there's only one fucking way to find out for sure—and the workday drawing to a close as they finish up their remaining concerns for the day seems like the perfect opportunity to embark on his romantic pursuit.

“Oi, Senju,” he starts, wincing at himself because how could he fuck up right from the beginning? “I meanーTobirama?”

The man in question gives him a questioning look from where he’s loungingーagainーon his desk. “Yes, Madara?”

Oh, gods that voice. Deep, and smooth, laced with the delicious inflections that make Madara's insides tingle... what he wouldn’t give to hear it tremble upon a moan.

“Uh.” Madara blinks, yanking himself back to reality. Tobirama is still staring at him with a raised eyebrow and what looks to be an inkling of amusement in his eyes. “I was going to say.” He clears his throat as his voice cracks a little. Fuck. Fuck, fuck. “You look exceptionally hot today,” he blurts out, giving himself another extra strong mental kick for such a foolish slip of the tongue.

Handsome. All he had to say, per Izuna’s careful, repeated instructions, was fucking handsome. Before he can correct himself, though, Tobirama says,

“Hot? Madara, you remember that my body temperature is much lower than is normal and I’m really sensitive to cold, right? It may seem hot to you outside but I’m freezing.”

Ah. He didn’t even get it. Madara sighs with an exasperated roll of his eyes. Calmly continue, he decides, no need to worry in the face of such inexperience.

“I meant,” Madara goes on, punctuating his works with a blatant leer and a smirk, “appealing. Easy on the eye. Handsome, one might say.”

He stops himself before he can overdo it, relishing the sharp intake of breath, the shock flashing briefly in Tobirama’s eyes.

“You mean,” Tobirama says, schooling his expression into casual curiosity, “you might say?”

Madara chuckles. “Why, yes. I’ve been thinking it for quite a while now, in fact, and thought it unproductive to keep this from you any longer.”

“Unproductive to what?” Tobirama asks, and even sans the Sharingan, Madara sees a hint of blush blooming on his pale, sculpted cheeks.

Beautiful.

“Unproductive to beautiful?”

Madara’s hands jerk of their own accord, knocking down half of the stacks of paper already placed dangerously on the edge of his desk. And Izuna warned him, too, to keep control of his limbs, but how is Madara supposed to do that with Tobirama smiling at him like that?!

“I-I didn’t mean to say that,” Madara rushes through his words, “I mean, out loud, I did meanーyou areーbut...” Overdoing it, alarm bells ring in his head. Giving up, he slams his hands on his desk as he stands up and glares at the grinning fool. “Fuck you, Senju! We’re going on a date! Tonight. Any place of your choice. With me,” he clarifies just to be safe, “andーif you want, that is! Yes.” In a desperate bid to fix the disastrous tirade at least a little bit, he says, more of a whisper this time, “I mean. Yes? Or...”

Tobirama laughs.

The utter bastard.

It’s a wonderful melodic sound Madara so rarely hears from him, cherishes each and every time his jokes land just right to gauge at least a chuckle from the man, but the fact that Tobirama is now laughing at him only makes anger boil at the pit of his stomach.

“What the fuck, Senju,” he growls.

“What you’re asking,” Tobirama drawls in a maddeningly playful manner, “is whether I'll consider accompanying you for a pleasant dinner tonight, just the two of us?”

That godsdamned look. Eyes narrowed suggestively as they glide over Madara’s body before locking with his eyes. The grin Madara now realizes is far from just that, watching, mesmerized, as Tobirama’s tongue slips out to wet his lips in a downright debauched manner.

Oh, gods. This man is going to be the death of him. And thinking back now to the time he distinctly remembers both Tobirama and Izuna supervising Hashirama’s questionable attempts to woo the Princess of Uzushio, Tobirama had to have gotten the meaning of Madara’s first flirting attempt.

Madara has just been played. And he’s enjoying it, too, the masochist he apparently is.

“Yes,” he grinds through his teeth, hoping the gravity of his glare impresses upon Tobirama just how pissed he is and pleading Amaterasu that it’s not a blush warming his cheeks as he seethes. “So, Senju? Don’t try my patience.”

Another chuckle escapes that infuriating, kissable mouth.

“You are ridiculous,” Tobirama says, the absolute bastard, “and nowhere near eloquent. But I must say I’m intrigued. If only because you’re...” He gives Madara another once-over, seemingly searching for the right term. “Cute.”

“W-whaーwho are you calling cute!” Madara shrieks despite himself, springing over his desk and stalking up to Tobirama to jam a finger into his chestーdistractingly prominent underneath the tight shirt he’s wearing. “Don’t you dare call me that to my face if you don’t wish to die.”

“Why, I was hoping you’d give me at least one little death today,” Tobirama purrs.

Andーwell. Whatever Madara was planning to yell next flies completely over his head, and damn his brain for shutting off completely in favor of imagining those lips stretched not in a grin but around Madara’sー

“But I suppose we really shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves,” Tobirama says, covering Madara’s hand with his and lowering it gently. “I’m intrigued but...” He scowls. “I really should be asking Anija’s permission first.”

That brings Madara back to reality. “Permission? From Hashirama?” Madara frowns. “What are you, twelve? Why do you need the loghead’s permission for things concerning your personal life?”

Tobirama rolls his eyes. “Anija is... protective. Overprotective,” he corrects himself, before sighing heavily. A crazy urge compels Madara to squeeze his hand in reassurance before Tobirama can let him go. “Really fucking overbearing. I hate it. But we’ll all be better off if we get his consent first. He might ground me.”

“Ground you?” It doesn’t make any sense. The most efficient warrior Madara knows, seen as the White Demon by clueless fools and as the incredible genius he is by those who know him, a shinobi capable of standing up to the idiot their kind considers God being grounded by said decidedly ungodlike idiot is... mind-boggling, to say the least.

“He’s my Anija,” Tobirama says, long-suffering, as if that explains everything. Madara keeps staring. Tobirama sighs again, his thumb rubbing circles onto Madara’s wrist as he collects his thoughts before speaking again. “I allow it, really. He hasn’t been the same since Kawarama and Itama died, and there’s this anxiety and fear he has of me being in danger or taken advantage of by others. He’s never unreasonable, though, and you’re his best friend. I’m sure he’ll be lenient.”

Madara makes a face. “Perhaps.” The important thing, he thinks, is to avoid letting on exactly what he’d like to do to Hashirama’s younger brother. Madara is sure he wouldn’t be so ‘lenient’ if he knew. “It’s still strange.”

“Tell me about,” Tobirama groans, a helpless look in his eyes, “I even have a curfew.”

“What if,” Madara asks, “we’re back before the curfew?”

Tobirama glances at the watch. “We have three hours,” he says, tentative, “and we have to be impeccably cautious unless you want the Mokuton up your ass.”

“Literally?”

“Literally.”

“We are great shinobi precisely because we can be careful, Tobirama,” Madara says, lifting their still interlocked hands to give Tobirama’s a gentle kiss. “So I say let’s give it a try.”

Tobirama fixes him with a thoughtful, conflicted gaze for but a moment, yet even that seems too long, with Madara’s heart still racing from the brief conversation they’ve had, anticipating an actual fucking date with the manーthe geniusーhe couldn’t help but fall for, if only Tobirama saysー

“Yes.” Tobirama’s smile is a dazzling thing. “Let’s.”

One minute stretches past Tobirama’s curfew, and Hashirama is ready to crawl out of his skin. Not having his brother near him for their evening tea and easy conversation before bed is... a struggle. It's been a tradition of theirs for as long as he could remember, save for the evenings of battle, and Hashirama cherished each moment he spent with his little brother, the unambiguous reminder that he was alive, safe, and right there.

(Not like the two bodies, bloodied and broken and far too little, resting too small graves in a forgotten compound littered with the countless sacrifices of a meaningless war.)

Of course, he realizes that will soon be spending most of his evenings with Mito instead, that Tobirama had long been planning his move out of their shared home to give them privacy. And however much he’s enamored with his future wife, Hashirama can scarcely imagine not being near his brother at least half of any given day, the insidious fear of peacetime shattering and devolving into another bout of bloodshed ceaselessly clawing at his mind.

It's fine, Anija, Tobirama would placate him were he here, as he always is, to listen to Hashirama's worries. I can take care of myself. You know this.

The clock ticks on, merciless, and soon enough it’s two minutes of Tobirama being lateーwhich he never is unless he’s in serious troubleーso, without further ado, Hashirama springs to his feet and runs out of the house. Channeling his chakra into the wood and plants around him is second nature by now, and he commands them to search the village and beyond for his Otouto, to immediately incapacitate any threat that might be endangering him. He follows their lead, little by little deciphering their vague, pulse-like 'speech’ which is more visual than resembling an audial message. Only the oldest trees, which have had time and put effort into studying humans around them, are able to communicate in the more normal sense of the term.

Luckily, Hashirama stumbles upon one of those soon enough.

Hello there, Kotomi, he greets the ancient willow tree stationed by the Administration Tower like the guard it is, unbeknownst to most people.

Looking for your Otouto? Kotomi asks, an inexplicable hint of derision in their tone.

Yes! Hashirama says, frantic. I think he’s in trouble. Do you know where he’s gone? He should have been back by now.

Don’t worry so much. He’s with the flailing firestarter. Having fun.

Madara? Hashirama frowns. The trees have taken to calling all the Uchiha firestarters and only ever use the word flailing to describe Madara, whose agitation and screaming seems to annoy them more often than not. Why would Tobirama break curfew for Madara? And are you sure it’s fun they’re having and not a fight?

Oh, they’re fighting all right, Kotomi actually tries imitating a giggle, which confuses Hashirama further, about who’s going to end up on top, apparently.

As the reality of the situation dawns on Hashirama, he can feel a different type of devastating horror overtaking him, as he realizes it’s not exactly Tobirama’s life he must fear for, but his innocence.

And to think his best friend would betray him this way. Hashirama clenches his fists, letting unbridled wrath wash over him in waves as he follows Kotomi’s direction towards Madara’s house.

Best friend or no, he will have to answer for his crimes.

Tobirama should have known they wouldn’t be able to make it in time for curfew. But, trapped now against the wall with his legs wrapped around Madara’s waist as he’s being kissed senseless, Tobirama finds he’s long since stopped caring.

Because they’ve been at this for an hour. A long, agonizing hour they intended, in all seriousness, to spend over tea at Madara’s place before Tobirama went back home but spectacularly failed to keep their hands to themselves. It should have been obvious, really; the closeness, their spirits high from a dinner date that went perfectly, the palpable desire in their chakra they could both sense and relished in how their signatures resonated. Fueled by just a touch of alcohol in place of the tea, then by a far-too-passionate kiss goodbye and just enough groping to warrant a continuation in the bedroom.

Madara’s bedroom. Which feels unreal, and even more so when Madara didn’t even manage to carry Tobirama all the way over to the bed, instead pinning him against the wall and trading shallow, intermittent kisses for a much more thorough exploration of Tobirama’s mouth, tongue hot, and demanding, and steadily driving Tobirama insane with want.

Tobirama moans, despite his efforts to keep quiet, too overwhelmed and craving to get Madara’s hands on him. Not like they are now, feeling him up through his clothes, but flush against his skin, sliding over his cock, moving inside him like he’s fantasized about far too oftenー

“Fuck,” Madara groans against his lips as they part for breath, just for a moment before leaning in for another messy, bruising kiss.

“Me, please,” Tobirama pants, pulling away this time to urge Madara towards their destination. “Bed.”

The ease with which Madara hauls him towards the futon only turns Tobirama on further, and he can’t help the keens and whimpers that escape as Madara claws his shirt off. His hands are finally on Tobirama’s chest, grazing his nipples, fingers digging into his sides as his chakra flares, hot and crackling, surging with lust and melding with Tobirama’s own as their cocks press together through too thick clothing.

“You haven’t actually done this before, have you?” Madara asks, voice lower than usual and strained as he speaks, pinning Tobirama with a gaze dark with unbridled desire.

Tobirama groans. “Was it that obvious?”

“You kiss well for a first time,” Madara says, grinning as he leans down to press his lips to Tobirama’s neck, “but I’m a sensor too, you know. You’d do well to calm down a bit.”

“I’m notーno, that’s not it,” Tobirama says, averting his eyes. As if he hasn’t lost count of how many times he’s touched, fingered himself, fucked himself with painfully insufficient toys with Madara’s name on his lips. And yet there’s treacherous embarrassment spiking up, fear creeping in that he’ll simply disappoint. “I am worried I’ll do something wrong.”

“Don’t be,” Madara whispers against his ear, kisses traveling down to his jaw and to his lips. “The only thing that can upset me is you not enjoying this.”

“I am,” Tobirama breathes, a shudder running through his body as Madara moves back to his neck, sucking bruises onto sensitive skin, making the pleasure all the more overwhelming.

“Good. But I’d like to do this right,” Madara says firmly, so unlike his usual blustering self, “and take things slow if you want. How about we keep things here for now?”

Tobirama amplifies the spike of annoyance in his chakra, lashing out with it enough to catch Madara off guard and flip them around.

“How about no?” he says, tugging Madara’s own overshirt off, relishing the thick, rippling muscles revealed for him to explore. “At least teach me how to suck you off. I’m a fast learner.”

“Fuck.” Madara squeezes his eyes shut, and Tobirama could swear he feels his cock twitch against his, though that may have just been his imagination. “You can’t just say things like that, Tobirama!”

“I can and I will.” Tobirama smirks, content to know he’s snared his target as Madara lets out a strangled moan when Tobirama palms him through his pants. “And do them, too, if you’ll let me.”

So contrary to his usual explosive nature, Madara seems conflicted, hesitant, even as Tobirama definitely feels his cock twitch this time.

This won’t do.

His own heart racing, throat dry and blood running hot, Tobirama leans in to mouth at his neck in an imitation of what Madara did to him before, just to test how sensitive he is.

The sound it earns him is divine. As is the way Madara’s grips his waist, pulling him closer, tangling a hand in Tobirama’s hair, tugging slightly as he trails a path of open-mouthed kisses to Madara’s chest.

“Tobirama...”

He keeps eye contact all the while, watching Madara bite his lip, trying and failing to hold in another groan, struggle to keep his eyes open, flickering between dark and red as his chakra flares hot like the fires of his jutsu. Beautiful, Tobirama thinks. So hot, panting and shivering under him, when all Tobirama is doing is lapping at his nipple, sucking it into his mouth, teeth just shy of grazing it. Then again, the taste of Madara’s skin, the closeness, the delicious feel of his chakra and the sounds he coaxes from the man are intoxicating, and Tobirama soon finds himself thrusting lightly against Madara’s thigh, hands wandering lower to touch him through his pants, finding him hard and already leaking through the fabric, andー

Another flare of pleasure, echoed by Tobirama’s own signature. He squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed, heat pooling in the base of his stomach as his cock aches for someーanyーkind of stimulation.

All right, maybe he’s a little overenthusiastic.

That isn’t any reason to stop, obviously.

Yet Madara’s sudden laugh, dark and low and feral for lack of any better word to describe it, gives Tobirama pause.

He moans, despite himself, as Madara’s grip on his hair tightens and he draws him up and away from his treat, and opens his eyes to the sight of a purely animalistic look on Madara’s face. Flushed, and panting, and still squirming under Tobirama’s hands, there’s no prior hesitation in his gaze, only pure, unbridled need.

Tobirama swallows heavily.

(Gods forbid Madara catches Tobirama actually drooling over him. What he does and doesn’t do behind closed doors is irrelevant; what Madara sees shouldn’t be as humiliating.)

"Teach you to suck me off, huh,” Madara says, voice closer to a growl as he cards his fingers through Tobirama’s hair, his other hand reaching down to still Tobirama’s that’s still palming his cock and guide him to a more languid rhythm. “You are infuriatingly eager.”

“And you,” Tobirama pants, “are infuriatingly slow. Honestly, I thought you’d be more efficient.”

It probably isn’t that convincing, what with Tobirama breaking into a gasp as Madara flares his chakra far, far stronger than he has up to this point, firewantlustsearing sensations prickling through Tobirama’s whole body, eliciting a whimper he’d be ashamed of if he had the capacity to be so, as his mind seems to self-destruct for a blinding flash of a moment.

Tobirama comes to slowly, thoughts still foggy, to the feel of Madara dragging his head towardsーoh. His cock, hard and slick with precome, bigger than Tobirama had expected even as he’d felt the girth through the fabric before.

“Whaー” Tobirama asks, because he’s certain Madara is saying something, if only the ringing in his ears would let him process it.

“I said get to work if you want it so much,” Madara command, the gaze blazing red now, tomoe spinning, recording this into memory which makes Tobirama all but preen under the scrutinyーand in the face of Madara’s devastating grin. “Go on. I’ll guide you through it.”

Tobirama lets out a shaky breath, ignoring his own cock pulsing, trapped painfully by the far-too-tight pants he’s taken to wearing to provoke more of Madara’s unsubtle ogling. Leaning down, he has time enough only to wrap his lips around the head of Madara’s cock, mouth stretching around hot, slick skin, the heady taste of precome on his tongueー

ーbefore the window crashes open and Tobirama’s mind flashes back to all the times he’d had to witness his Anija and Madara shout each other’s names stupidly across the battlefield.

“MADARA!”

Tobirama releases Madara with a not-quite decent pop which prompts Hashirama’s dramatic gasp.

“WH-WHY-HOーWOULD YOU FUCKING EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING WITH MY LITTLE BROTHER?!”

“What the fuck am Iーit’s none of your godsdamned business!” Madara scrambles to shove himself back in his pants. Tobirama almost wishes he wouldn’t; maybe continuing with the blowjob out of spite would have scandalized Anija enough for him to run off. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Will not! Why are you keeping Tobirama past his curfew?”

“Why does a full-fledged adult need a curfew, you worthless fucking tree stump?”

“So he’s not exposed to people who are intent on defiling him,” Hashirama says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “like you, apparently! Madara, I expected better from my best friend.”

“And I didn’t expect you to be a fucking control freak,” Madara shouts. “You don’t see me stalking and cockblocking Izuna, do you?”

“Well, no, but that only means I’m more diligent in looking out for my Otouto,” Hashirama huffs.

“What the hell are you implying?” Madara growls, chakra crackling like it does every time before he throws a punch or sets a fire.

Tobirama sighs, giving up his attempt at meditation from where he’s settled cross-legged next to Madara’s flailing form.

“Anija,” he intervenes, “may I remind you...”

“Tobi.” Hashirama turns towards him, an almost pitying look in his eyes. “Please don’t believe whatever lies Madara spouted at youーejaculate is not a healthy bedtime snack!”

Oh, gods. Not the healthy bedtime snacks again.

“What the fuckー” Madara looks about ready to implode now, and Tobirama places a hopefully comforting hand on his shoulder.

“To be fair, he is right,” Tobirama concedes, resisting the urge to simply Hiraishin out of the situation and leave the two idiots to deal with it themselves. But that would disprove his following point. “But I must once again remind you, Anija, that I am a grown-up. I have been killing people since I was four, and I improved the efficiency of our clan’s entire taxing policy when I was twelve. A possibleー” one-night stand, dalliance, arrangement, “ーrelationship is nothing I can’t handle.”

Tobirama hates how his heart skips a beat as he glances to see Madara’s reaction, only to find him still staring at Hashirama, a mesh of confusion and anger battling in his chakra as he alternates between confused whispers of “what the fuck” and “bedtime snacks.”

“Butーbut I had a glass of milk and your favorite cookies ready and you weren’t there,” Hashirama whines, lip quivering as his face crumpling in a way that only ever leads to tears.

“Anija, I will be there next time,” Tobirama says firmly, “I promise. But tonight, I’d like to spend with Madara.” He gives his brother a look that hopefully conveys get the fuck out of here, Anija enough for Hashirama to understand.

But of course not.

“So, what,” Hashirama says, throwing his hands up, “you’re now going to spend all your time with Madara and completely forget about me?”

Tobirama sighs. “No. All I wanted was a date, Anija.”

“A date which ends with him stealing your innocence?!”

Tobirama closes his eyes and counts to ten as he replies, “If I say no, will you believe me?” He was tempted to say, Yes, and I’ll enjoy every fucking moment of it, but decided against it, if only to keep Madara’s barely coherent stuttering and wheezing from turning into a full-fledged seizure.

“Yes! If you come back home for bedtime snacks after a perfectly serviceable date, I’m sure,” Hashirama says, classic puppy dog eyes in full swing, “because Madara, if you’re courting my brother, you have to take it slow and woo him properly!”

Madara’s reply to that is a low, threatening growl now that he’s shaken himself out of the shock. Just in case, Tobirama tightens the grip on his shoulder. It wouldn’t do for Konoha to be destroyed by these two after the recent anniversary of its founding.

“Anija,” Tobirama says as calmly as he is able (which is, admittedly, bordering on furious), "since I consider it preferable that ‘wooing’ me ‘properly’ includes at least one fucking blowjob this evening, stop spying on me, leave us be and I will talk to you tomorrow.”

“Waitー”

Completely ignoring his Anija’s hysterical flailing, Tobirama tugs on one of the Hiraishin markers in his bedroom, and the next second he and Madara land in a heap of tangled limbs on his futon, well withinー

“...the professional Anija-repellent traps I’ve developed over the years,” Tobirama explains while Madara struggles to get his bearings, “so we shouldn’t be disturbed anymore. IーI’m sorry about that.”

“What the fuck,” Madara seethes, eyes still wide and hair sticking out from his insistent pulling on it during Anija’s tirade, “even was that?”

Tobirama sighs, rolls his eyes, and decides to answer with a kiss, hard, wet and sloppy, hopefully distracting enough to keep Madara’s mind away from pesky cockblocking idiots who will be wise to stay away if they value their wellbeing. And blessedly, Madara kisses him back after but a moment of stillness, the wild mess of confusion and irritation that is his chakra mellowing, gradually, into the familiar simmer of heat, scorching, electrifying, melding with Tobirama’s desire in turn.

“How about,” he suggests amid short-lived open-mouthed kisses, unfastening Madara’s breeches somewhat clumsily in his urgency, “we focus on more... pressing matters, shall we?”

Madara lets out a surprised laugh, gaze never leaving Tobirama as he forges a wet trail with his lips down Madara’s chest. “Still so eager to, uh, part with your innocence, I see,” he tries for a joke which breaks off into a harsh breath as Tobirama sinks down to lick at the head of his half-hard cock, stifling a moan at the feel of it twitching against his lips.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs with a self-satisfied smirk before focusing entirely on the very hard, very mouthwatering task at hand.

#madatobi #tobimada #madara uchiha #tobirama senju #lou writes #fluff #humor #smut #fanfic #naruto

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nightofthemeteor · 4 years

Text

Falconry/Bonsai

(Also here on AO3)

“Tobirama, can you come help me with something?”

“What?” came the disgruntled answer from down the hall.

Hashirama stuck his head out the door. “I need you to take a picture for my Instagram!”

He could hear his little brother stomping down the hallway, so Hashirama returned to his table and picked up a pair of pruning shears, considering the lighting in the room and the best angle to take a photo. A moment later, Tobirama walked into the room, saw Hashirama, and immediately turned around and walked out.

“Hey! Come back!”

“No way,” said Tobirama, without turning around. “I am not taking a picture of you in your underwear.”

“I’m not in only my underwear!” Hashirama protested. “I’m wearing a shirt!” Granted, it was the shortest shirt he owned, and it did leave a substantial strip of skin bare, but still.

“Can I ask,” Tobirama said witheringly, stopped in the doorway but without turning around, “Why you’re posing for a half-naked picture to put on your gardening blog? Don’t tell me you’re that desperate for exposure.” He was forced to turn around for this last part, because he had to raise his eyebrows at Hashirama to make sure he got the double entendre.

“Very funny, Tobirama. No, it’s not for more followers.” Although that could be a nice side effect, come to think of it. “It’s a…” Hashirama knew there was a word for this, if only he could remember – “Thirst trap!” he announced, proud of himself for getting the terminology right.

Tobirama wrinkled his nose. “Please never say that again, Anija. Do I know the person you’re posting this for?”

“Nah – I just met him yesterday! I ran into him on the subway as I was bringing home this very bonsai.” Hashirama affectionately patted the pot containing his newest leafy charge, a lovely boxwood tree rescued from the back shelves of a garden store on the other side of town. “I’m telling you, Tobirama, this tree is good luck!”

“Are you out of your mind, Anija? You gave your Instagram handle to some random stranger on the subway, and now you’re posting – ” Tobirama made a vague, sort of circular gesture to encompass Hashirama’s general state of undress “ – for him to see? I’m begging you to have just a shred of common sense.”

“No, this guy is fine, I promise! I have excellent judgement about this sort of thing.” Tobirama crossed his arms and gave him a flat look that said, Your judgement is terrible and we both know it. Hashirama sighed. “If you help me, I’ll buy you that expensive, iced coffee you like,” he wheedled.

“Two coffees,” Tobirama snapped. “And when you end up with some creepy stalker, I’m not going to help you.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hashirama shoved his phone into Tobirama’s hands before he could change his mind and struck a pose next to the boxwood, shears in hand. He’d just finished pruning the tree, in fact – this picture was to show off his handiwork with the bonsai, too. The guy on the subway - Madara, he'd said his name was - had asked about it, after all. “Is the shape of the tree still good from that angle?”

“It’s fine,” Tobirama sighed in exasperation, and then, apparently resigned to his role, added: “Maybe turn it clockwise a little.”

Hashirama complied, spending a few more seconds arranging the miniature branches. “Did you get your exam marks back yet?” he asked, to keep Tobirama occupied while he fussed with the tree.

“Just got my mark for organic chem,” his brother replied, lips pressed together in an angry pout. “One point away from perfect. I swear, that TA was just trying to find some excuse to take marks away; he was a huge asshole to me all semester, just because I pointed out his synthesis problems had more than one correct solution.”

That explained why Tobirama was even grumpier than usual. “Well, you must have done an excellent job, if this TA could only find one point to take away,” Hashirama tried, in an attempt to mollify him; Tobirama’s stony expression remained unchanged. “Plus, the year is over, so you’ll never have to deal with him again!”

That got a grudging half-smile out of Tobirama. “Yeah – at least there’s that. Are you ready, Anija? I want to get this over with.”

---

The picture was…it was…different from the majority of Hashirama’s posts. Madara had been stalking his Instagram for the past half hour – was it really stalking if the guy had given him his handle and invited him to look for updates on the bonsai he’d been carrying? Probably not, right? – Madara had been looking at his Instagram for the past half hour, and it was all innocent pictures of trees, flowers, and houseplants, meticulously cared for and clearly thriving. Occasionally, Hashirama’s smiling face appeared in the background of a photo, or his hand showed up in a close-up to showcase some clippings, but there was nothing like…that. Broad shoulders in a loosely draped shirt; smooth skin over taut muscle at his stomach; sharp hipbones leading down to –

“What are you looking at, Nii-san?”

Madara jumped, fumbled his phone, and dropped it onto his chest. “Izuna! How many times do I have to tell you to knock?”

“Oh, it was porn? Sorry,” said Izuna, sticking his face obnoxiously through the crack between Madara’s bedroom door and the wall.

“It wasn’t porn,” Madara replied reflexively, before realizing that not only was he now going to have to provide an explanation, but he sort of had been looking at porn. Almost. “It’s this guy I met yesterday,” Madara mumbled at his phone. “I'm on his Instagram.”

“You met someone?!” Izuna exclaimed in delight. Madara sighed – there was no keeping his little brother out of his business now. Sure enough, Izuna threw open his door the rest of the way and bounded over to sit next to Madara on the bed. “How did this miracle occur?”

“It was…kind of accidental.” Madara wasn’t exactly the sociable type, and he certainly didn’t strike up conversations with strangers on public transit – in fact, he usually did his best to maintain a menacing aura so that people didn’t talk to him. But yesterday, after staring for probably a solid five minutes at the impressively muscled forearms of the guy standing in front of him, Madara had realized even those muscles might get tired of holding an entire bonsai tree, and he should probably offer the guy his seat. The man had accepted the offer with a very genuine-sounding thanks, and then had proceeded to flash Madara an implausibly sunny grin, gesture to the bonsai in his lap, and say, “Trees-ed to meet you!”. The line was so terrible Madara hadn't been able to let it go without comment, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been talking to the guy for twenty minutes and had acquired his Instagram handle.

“Well, can I see a picture?” Izuna demanded.

Madara winced, rapidly weighed his options, and reluctantly unlocked his phone to show Izuna the picture he’d been looking at. Izuna, shockingly, didn’t comment on the nature of the photo, but squinted down at it and said, “Hm…I think I know that guy.”

“You do?”

“I’m pretty sure I met him on campus one time, when I was waiting for your lab to finish. He was waiting for someone too, so we chatted for a few minutes. Nice guy.”

With sudden, dawning horror, Madara asked, “Was he hitting on you?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I think he’s just a friendly type of person.”

Well, a man who flirted with anything that moved – or worse, Izuna – would have been a crushing disappointment, but a ‘friendly type of person’ was nearly as bad. Hashirama had given him his Instagram handle and told him to watch for a post with an update on ‘his’ bonsai, and said bonsai update had included a half-naked Hashirama. Madara had nearly dared to interpret that as interest…but if Hashirama was just a ‘friendly type of person,’ Madara could have been reading the cues entirely wrong. Perhaps their conversation yesterday had just been a fun way to pass the time, and the photo was intended for somebody else.

As if reading his mind, Izuna said, “You should ask him out for drinks or something.”

“I followed his Instagram,” Madara announced, “And that is exactly the number of moves I am willing to make. I’m busy, you know – I can’t go chasing all the time like you.” Just one of many excellent reasons to save that picture for his fantasies and never meet the real person ever again.

“You just finished marking all your exams,” Izuna countered. “I know you’re not that busy. Come on, Nii-san, be reasonable: when are you ever going to get another chance like this again?”

“Thanks for that, Izuna,” Madara muttered. Who said he was even interested in dating, anyways? Relationships were messy, confusing, and time-consuming; not at all worth the hassle –

Madara’s phone buzzed. Instagram message from Hashirama: Hey, sorry if this is presumptuous, but do you want to meet up for drinks sometime?

Madara stared at his screen. Then, disbelieving, he held out the phone for Izuna to read. A stunned moment of silence, and then Izuna shrieked, “You have to go!”

Well, maybe this wasn’t quite as complicated as Madara had feared. Izuna was right; he wasn’t that busy. Pursing his lips in concentration, Madara typed out a reply.

---

Tobirama had been completely wrong, as it turned out: Madara was neither a creep nor a stalker. He was a grad student with an acerbic tongue, passionate opinions, and a lovely embarrassed blush. Hashirama had become so absorbed in the conversation he’d completely forgotten to order more drinks, which was seriously unlike him – although, since he’d made up his mind to pay for the date, it was probably for the best.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Madara remarked abruptly, somewhere around hour three or four.

“You mean existentially?”

“Literally here, in a bar, having drinks with you,” Madara clarified. “I mean – my younger brother is convinced I’m incapable of socializing. He was probably planning to set me up with one of his friends from…art school…” He leveled a suspicious glare at Hashirama as he said these last few words. “He didn’t put you up to this, did he? What’s he paying you?”

“It wasn’t your brother,” said Hashirama seriously. “It was the bonsai.”

“The bonsai paid you to take me out for drinks?”

“The bonsai brought us together.” Hashirama raised his glass; Madara followed suit, looking a little bemused but playing along, nonetheless. “To the bonsai!” Hashirama announced. He drained his glass, surreptitiously watched the way Madara’s throat moved as he drank, and thought. Tobirama would definitely judge him for thinking it, but though Hashirama barely knew Madara, he felt an immediate connection to him. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

“Madara,” he said. Madara looked at him with his dark, expressive eyes, shadows from his hair falling across his face, and Hashirama bit his lip. Careful, he thought. “I really am glad you’re here, in this bar, having drinks with me.”

Madara flushed again, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red; Hashirama wondered if he could make Madara flush anywhere else. “I’m glad, too,” he said, low and a little shaky, as though he was unused to saying things like that.

Hashirama immediately abandoned his caution of just a moment before and said, “Do you want to get out of here? We can go to my place – my brother won’t be home.”

“Yes,” said Madara. “Yes, definitely.”

---

Hashirama had the bonsai – Madara’s bonsai, the one he’d toasted that evening – set up in pride of place in his bedroom. That should have prompted Madara to suspect Hashirama had planned for this to happen, and make him annoyed at Hashirama’s confidence. He should also have been a lot more panicked when he looked at Hashirama’s face, sleepy and content, with his previously immaculate hair tangled on the pillow, and felt a tug somewhere under his sternum. Instead, he looked at that bonsai on his way out of the room and thought, Thanks.

Hashirama’s apartment wasn’t very large, considering it housed two people, but it was still annoying to search for the bathroom in an unfamiliar place. Madara had been sure Hashirama had told him it was down the hall on the left, but now he was in the entranceway. He was about to retrace his steps and try again when he heard a key jingling in the door.

“Hey, Anija, I just came back for – ” The man in the doorway spotted Madara and froze. Madara, too, had frozen in horror, because even in the dim light he’d immediately recognized Hashirama’s brother.

“You!” yelped Senju Tobirama.

“No,” Madara said, backing up a step. “Absolutely not.”

Tobirama pointed an accusing finger at him. “I was supposed to be done with you!” he hissed. “You took off that one mark on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Oh, because you think all your solutions are perfect, do you?” He’d certainly acted that way all through that torturous organic chemistry class.

“Tobirama?” came Hashirama’s concerned voice from the hallway.

“Tell me you’re not sleeping with my TA, Anija!” Tobirama practically wailed, and suddenly, Madara’s annoyance at the appearance of his least favourite student was replaced with pure schadenfreude.

“I’m afraid he very much is,” he said, before Hashirama could reply. “So you’d better get used to seeing a lot of me.” And to his great satisfaction, he watched Hashirama’s face brighten in delight, and Tobirama’s drop in utter horror.

#I don't actually know how instagram works but i did my best #inspired by art by thelistening #plus the time the two of us had to lug a huge lavender tree on the subway #hashimada happenings 2020 #hashimada #naruto #my writing

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yetanotherauthor · 4 years

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Day 4 of @narutorarepairweek. Today’s prompt is soulmate au.

Pairing: MadaraIzuna Word count: 1469 Rated: T+ Summary: Madara still loses things all the time - just as the universe intended him to.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Oh Brother Where Art My Shit

There was a reason that Madara had started the habit of getting ready for important events the day before they happened and that reason was simple. He was a messy sod. A terror on the battlefield and a clan head not to be crossed, it would have been hard for most people to reconcile the persona he carried for the outside world with the flaming disaster that was his everyday life at home.

Both hands buried up to the wrist, Madara cast a weather eye over the massive pile of junk he was currently sifting through in the bottom of his closet. Maybe if he learned to keep better track of his things it wouldn’t take him so long to find them all the time but it was hard to break a habit after deliberately cultivating it for so many years. He was doomed to a messy home for the rest of his life. If only he could find the blue obi he’d spent the last hour searching for then maybe he could live with that but until then he would continue to curse how desperate he’d been for a soulmate when he was young.

“Are you looking for something?” Izuna’s voice drifted over his shoulder and Madara scowled.

“No,” he growled sarcastically. “I just thought now was a good time for spring cleaning.”

“In the middle of winter?”

Yanking one hand out from under the pile of clothes it had been clawing through, Madara reached back to swat at his sibling without looking. “Just shut up. How am I supposed to attend Hashirama's stupid jubilee tomorrow if I can’t even look presentable? I’ll be the laughing stock of the other clan heads!”

“Ah, I see. So it wouldn’t happen to be an obi you’re looking for?”

“Obviously! I’ve got everything else laid out on the bed, don’t pretend you’re smart for guessing!”

“Mn. And would it happen to be blue? Midnight, silver stitching, just a little slimmer than all your other ones?”

It wasn’t just the perfect description that had him swinging around with a scowl but the teasing lilt in his brother’s voice. He scowled even deeper to see the very obi he’d been tearing their room apart to find draped over Izuna’s shoulders like a lady’s shawl, tasteful silver patterns catching the light and setting off his skin like a pale moon spirit.

“You weren’t supposed to see it!” he snapped. “Why do I even bother trying to surprise you with anything if you’re just going to go through my stuff anyway?”

His sibling rolled his eyes and cocked a hip. “I didn’t go through anything. There I was just minding my own business on the walk home and what do I see? An obi draped over the bushes out front. Now who in fire’s name would go to the trouble of throwing an obi in to our front lawn? Absolutely no one. It must be that some poor idiot…lost it.” Izuna’s lips quirked up on one side. “Good thing I found it, ne?”

Madara sat back on his heels with a sigh.

“I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t find it somewhere in the tower like last time.” Coming up with an excuse for why Izuna had suddenly pulled his older brother’s favorite underwear out of a desk drawer had been one of the cleverest and yet most embarrassing things he’d ever seen the younger man do.

“What you should really be grateful for is that I’m giving it back instead of hiding it. Really, take better care of your things.”

“Hmph, I take good care of you, don’t I?”

The words came out with little thought but he got his reward anyway in the softening of Izuna’s face, the fingers that reached out to card through his hair. Madara swallowed and let himself lean back against his brother’s legs. It had taken an embarrassingly long time to realize that his soulmate had been hiding under his nose almost all his life. As a child Madara had built the habit of deliberately leaving his things lying about in every corner of their house in the hopes that he would lose them only to find them in the hands of someone else. Whenever Izuna came to him with some shirt or sandal or badly drawn explosive tag that he’d stumbled across it never really registered as odd. Of course his brother was the one to find so many of his things, they shared so much of the same space after all.

“You do, aniki.”

“Damn straight,” Madara grumbled, a little embarrassed to have shown his softer side without meaning to.

“Are you going to try this all on now or just wait for tomorrow?” Izuna asked.

“I already know it all fits, why would I need to try it on?” Twisting to look up at the other man, Madara felt silly the moment he caught sight of the leer staring back down at him. Apparently he’d missed something between the lines there but that was nothing new. He was nearly as famous for his obliviousness as Tobirama was. Clearing his throat gave him a moment to think up some kind of response and still he wasn’t able to come up with anything better than to mumble under his breath, “If you want something you should just come out and say it.”

Shoving everything that he’d pulled out of the closet back in would have to wait. Madara looked over the mess once and shook his head, standing up and squeezing past his brother with both eyes on the floor because unfortunately obliviousness went hand in hand with embarrassment once he understood what was going on. He wasn’t in the least surprised by the arms that slid around his waist to catch him on the way by.

“Alright, if you need me to be so blunt about it. I was kind of looking forward to seeing you take your clothes off.” Izuna followed his words with a low chuckle that rumbled through Madara's body like a pleasant shiver.

“You watched me change just this morning; are you so insatiable?”

“For you? Of course.”

Slim hands traced their way down the lines of his abdomen to fiddle with the edges of the yukata he’d been lounging around the house in. With a sigh Madara caught them and twisted to slide his own fingers under Izuna’s chin, raising that pretty face up for his inspection. The smile that greeted him was filthy, enough so that anyone else might assume he had only one thing on his mind, but Madara knew his brother even better than himself. For him it was easy to look at Izuna and see the warmth of love in those beautiful eyes.

“You’re a minx,” he accused softly.

“I am,” Izuna agreed with a breezy wave of one hand, dismissing the words.

“Why do I put up with you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, more than familiar with the sass that would come back to bite him if he did. Instead Madara gave a show of rolling his eyes and then leaned down to capture Izuna’s lips with his own. The kiss was gentle, drawn out, but not for long. Gentle only ever lasted for so long between them. Barely a minute or two had passed before they were savagely biting at each other, pulling hair, legs bumping together as they turned to stumble towards the bed.

A quick twist at the moment they fell put Madara in the perfect position to cage his brother against the blankets neither of them had straightened when they got up that morning, leaning back to pause and admire the prize beneath him. It hit him then as it did every so often just how lucky he was.

“Admiration is lovely,” Izuna purred, “but I’m more a man of action myself. Get down here. We so rarely have a day off together and I plan to take full advantage of having you all to myself for so many hours.”

“You really do only ever think with your little head, don’t you?”

“Complaining?”

“No.” Madara let himself be pulled down in to another violent kiss that was their favorite way to express the passions between them.

It might have taken him years to see the bliss just waiting for him right in front of his eyes but from the moment he finally understood he had never looked back, not even once. Izuna was the entire world to him. He couldn’t imagine a world where he could ever love another quite like the man writhing beneath him.

Of course his brother was his soulmate, the only one who could ever truly understand him at his core, because Izuna was the one thing he could never ever stand to lose.

#narutorarepairweek2020 #yetanotherstory #madaizu #madara #izuna #fanfiction #soulmate au

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writingmessynaruto · 4 years

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[Image Description: A foggy, whitewashed hill is littered with snow-covered pine trees, the top of the hill disappearing into a layer of opaque white. Over the opaque white, black text reads: “Work-In-Progress Wednesday [/] starring “That One Madara Fanfic”.”]

WORK - IN - PROGRESS WEDNESDAY: starring “ That One Madara Fanfic ”

Please enjoy an excerpt from my draft of this fanfic. I promise it’s coming. Here’s an extra long snippet from a midway chapter I just wrote. Please enjoy below the cut!

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Uchiha Madara / Original Female Character (Ōkami Kyoko) Rating: E (explicit, 18+) Warnings: (for this particular excerpt) Public Sex, Oral Sex, Allusions to Anal Sex, Foul Language, Allusions to Prostitution, Extramarital Affair (not mentioned, but is to be implied).

Introduction: Madara and Kyoko continue their long journey to the Land of Snow, where Kyoko holds new ambassadorship. Hashirama has recently named her Konoha’s representative to the Land in hopes of quickly uniting their two countries during these unstable times. As the hokage’s foreign advisor, Madara must learn about the Snow country’s economy and society; and of course, Kyoko’s parents are expecting to see him for a truce negotiation between the estranged but related Uchiha and Ōkami clans. But Madara can’t keep his mind off last night. And it’s probably a problem. But maybe everything else can wait. Maybe. (Though, probably not.)

Even before the mountains began, Kyoko was determined to get him to buy a coat. And she wouldn’t settle for anything she considered cheap.

“You’re going to be coming up here often, so you should get a nice one.”

Madara wasn’t exactly one for spending too much. Everything here was grandly expensive. But she said if he waited until they went any further, he’d regret it.

The cold wind had already started to pick up outside. Attached to the little clothing shop was a cafe. All the detailing inside was wood and bark, but almost in a gaudy way. It wasn’t ugly, but the texture was overwhelming. A fire burned in the corner, gated by a three-paneled iron guard. Another stone hearth stood by the cafe at the other end of the store. It was quiet and empty.

Kyoko pulled him through the racks of clothes toward the coats. She wasn’t at all subtle or modest. Madara should have known that by now, and part of it turned him on, even now. In the bedroom, it was one thing entirely; she was brazen and beautiful and fearless. But out here, under the scrutiny of the world, it was different. And she paid it no mind. Her fingers laced with his, warmly, and she drew him to a different rack. Soon, when she was dissatisfied with his choices, she went looking on her own. He followed her quietly, lazily; she seemed to enjoy picking things out for him. He didn’t mind that either. None of this bothered him, as they were far from home, and far from the watchful eyes of people who knew them. But still, they were in public. While no one knew who she was now, and probably who he was, he knew that would change eventually.

She held up a coat to him, only for a split second, and then put it back. Too small, she’d decided, just by looking at him. It was almost shocking how intimate she was. It was second nature to her. Sure, public sex was her thing, and Madara could easily get behind that, too. But this didn’t feel like all those times. She was warm, like the quiet-burning hearth in the corner. Bright and gentle. She had a glow of her own. Madara wanted to look at her, maybe all day. But he didn’t.

“Try this one,” she said.

“How much is it?”

“Just try it.”

He rolled his eyes. She held it out to him and he unzipped it and put it on. She watched him carefully, every seam, every fold, how it looked on him. Her gaze came to his eyes.

“Try the hood.”

He grumbled. She didn’t skip a beat.

“You’re going to want to make sure it shields your cheeks and mouth.”

“Alright.”

He pulled the hood over his head. He almost couldn’t see through the fur lining.

“How does it feel?” her now muffled voice asked him. He had closed the flaps over his mouth.

“Fine.” His words came out muted and sloppy. She nodded.

“Do you like it? That’s a good one.”

“Sure.” He wasn’t sure he had much choice. They all looked nice to him. But he let her be picky. She knew this climate better than he did.

As he slipped off the coat, the shop attendant approached them. Madara handed it off to him. Before he could even look at the price, Kyoko’s voice called him.

“Come try this.”

She had disappeared behind another rack. Madara glanced down at the tag on the coat.

This woman.

He nodded quickly to the attendant, who took the coat to the front for them. Kyoko was rifling through gloves when Madara found her. She handed him a pair, and a scarf, glancing down at his sandals.

“Did you bring boots?”

“Yes.”

“Snow boots?”

“They’re boots.”

She turned toward the back of the store, the shoe section. Madara wrapped an arm around her waist and stopped her, pulling her in close. Carefully, he eyed the clerk, who was nosedeep in a book. He murmured,

“You’re going to empty my wallet before I even get to Yuki.”

A tiny smile stirred in her eyes. She glanced at him, and the grin spread to her lips.

“I can help you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. She enjoyed tormenting him like this. She was a child inside, and he got her whatever she wanted, but with a price. She nudged, he pushed back, she pulled more, he resisted, and eventually, when she pushed just the right button, he gave in. It turned him on, and it got her hot, too, he knew.

“Are you getting anything?” he asked.

“No.” Her eyes met him again, glancing at him up and down. “Unless you’re wanting to dote on me.”

“Do you want me to?”

She turned to him. Those soft blue eyes were like melted snow. Her nose brushed his. He glanced at the occupied attendant, and then back at her.

“Breakfast would be nice.” Her breath ghosted his lips. Mint from her toothpaste filled his nose. He wetted his lower lip.

“Are you sure that’s it?”

She nuzzled him slowly, her eyelids heavy. Last night, he let himself get lost in her gaze. He remembered the taste of it now. The attendant would look up soon.

“There’s a little shop in Yuki.” He tangled himself in her eyes, in her lashes. She murmured on. “I think you’d like it. They don’t have anything like it in Konoha.”

“Mm.” Her freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks, even her eyelids. The apples of her cheeks plumped in a smile.

“We can get a few things together.”

Her eyes fluttered. She wanted him to kiss her. He wanted to, bad. He glanced over at the clerk. Still taken by his book. Madara leaned into her, still watching. Her lips opened for him, and drew his tongue across her top. She responded slow and begging. His eyes started to shut naturally. He pulled them back open. The clerk still hadn’t noticed. Her lips pulled him in again. Slowly, he let his eyes close. She consumed him so painfully slowly. A kiss, and a pause; another kiss, lingering, and a pause. Why he had wanted to leave the inn so quickly this morning, he didn’t know. She was starting to get him hard. He could have spent days letting her run her tongue across his lips, sucking on his lips, every kiss imaginable. He wanted her to open up his shirt and kiss down his chest, dripping with saliva that would cool on his skin after she left. He wanted her to trail down his body to his cock, kiss his tip, right there in the store, roll her tongue around him, teasing the life out of him. He wanted her to eat him out, right now.

He opened his eyes. The store clerk had turned a page. Kyoko already pulled away from him. Not batting an eye, she started right past him toward the back.

“What size shoe are you?”

He heaved a sigh, watching the clerk. “Twenty-eight and a half.”

“Mmm.”

Turning, he caught her gaze with a smiling glare. She flicked her ponytail at him, looking at the shoes. He followed her. She had leaned over to check the sizes on the boxes. He wrapped his hands around her hips, pushing his now throbbing cock against her thigh. He heard her exhale a smile, and she stood up straight again, box in hand. He nuzzled her ear.

“Suck.”

Her smile only grew. She glanced at him for a long time, just to be sure he was serious. Her eyes lifted from him and darted around, above and behind, left and right. Satisfied, she handed him the shoe box.

“Sit and try these on.”

He took a seat in the one nearby chair, and she was already kneeling at his feet. She had better hearing than him; she would hear if someone was coming. Madara wasn’t worried.

“What are you going to do for me?” she asked as he leaned over to put on one boot. Once he slipped it on, she started lacing it. He held the other boot.

“What would you like?”

She glanced up at him, failing to hide a smile. Clearly, she had something in mind. But she didn’t answer.

His body filled with heat. It had been so long since last night. His libido was finally catching up. Maybe his pace would improve faster than he thought.

“You can have whatever you want,” he added lowly. She tightened the laces on his boot, not glancing up. Her smile remained, small and hidden. He leaned down and put on the other boot. She raised her eyebrows, turning to tie that one.

“Whatever I want.”

He relaxed into the back of the chair. “Anything.”

“On top of my things at the store.”

“If you convince me.”

She tightened the laces, her brows raising in amusement.

“What if it involves the thing from the store?”

“Maybe,” he answered easily. “And what might you be interested in there?”

She pulled the knot tight on his shoe. Her hands slapped gingerly onto his thighs and ran up slow. She looked him in the eye.

“I’m asking if you want to get pegged.”

He raised his eyebrows. So, it was a sex shop then. Her hands leaned him back further in the seat, pulling his hips closer to her. It had been a while since the last time he did that. He was probably out of practice. But why not try?

“Maybe.”

“You said anything.”

“I said maybe.”

She undid his zipper and pulled his cock through his underwear. One hand stayed at his balls, squeezing him through his pants. He gazed at her as her tongue began to swirl around his tip. The way she met his eyes reminded him too much of something. It had been sitting in the back of his mind for a while now. Before, he always explained it away. She probably had been married more than once. Maybe she really was a slut, definitely a problem-child. But it really felt like more.

“Has anyone ever paid you to do this?” he murmured.

She only raised her eyebrows at him, dropping some spit onto his tip, her fingers spreading it slowly down his shaft. “Have you ever paid anyone for this?”

Conditional honesty, huh. Alright. “Once.” She didn’t look up at him. Slowly, she slid his shaft in past her lips. He suppressed a sigh. Her other hand came up from his balls and squeezed against him. He continued.

“I’m asking if you ever did this for a living.”

Her tongue pressed against him, deliberately making it feel suddenly, oh, so tight. He clamped his mouth shut. Why was the urge to moan even more strong when you weren’t supposed to? She was being cruel. His heart was pounding. She lifted her head, her hands still working.

“I did it for spending-money.” He nodded. Her eyes pierced him still. “Why? Does it bother you?”

“No. I merely expected something of the sort.”

She raised a brow in feigned interest, taking him in her mouth again. She did it so slow, and so hard. He bit his lip.

“Your parents seemed adamant to erase any suggestion of sexuality in your description.” He was struggling to maintain a normal tone. Everything sounded affected. “Despite referring to you as ‘pleasing’.”

She lifted her head. “My parents only found my interests useful when it benefited them.”

He raised a brow. “Well, now it sort of does.” He glanced down at her hands rubbing his member. “A bit indirectly.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say to them?” She popped her mouth back over his head. He sighed, at both the feeling and the question.

“What all do they know?”

She lifted her head again, sighing.

“Could you let me finish?”

He waved. “By all means.”

She started again, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the shelf. She would hear if someone was coming. She was starting to pick up speed. Her hands squeezed him just right. Then, her mouth disappeared.

“If you could keep talking, that would be amazing.”

He opened his eyes. She was giving him a look. Of course. The sounds. That couldn’t be avoided. He shook the blur from his eyes.

“Uhm.” Talk about what. His brain wouldn’t think. What did she just ask him? Right. What he would say to her parents. Her lips surrounded his cock again. “They know I’m interested in unity.” God, it was getting hard to talk. He couldn’t even think to pick words. He felt so hot. He couldn’t remember. She felt too good. But he had to say something. “I think they’ll be much like you. Wanting an equal truce.” God, that was growl. He didn’t sound normal at all. It really sounded like he was trying not to moan. That clerk had to know. But Kyoko wasn’t stopping. “Fuck. Talk.” Something else. “Kyoko, I really don’t know what your parents—” Swallow the moan. Shaky breathing. God, her mouth. “I don’t know what they think.” He sounded dumb. “What are they—” Goddamn it, no questions. “Will they assume I know about your…” Eyes. “Eyes?” No questions. “Shit.” Shit. “Are they going to want equal share in that?” God, he couldn’t do this. He’d never tried to do this. He was going to cum. “Kyoko…” He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, eating him up, swallowing his whole length. His shaft was glossy. His hand clasped hers and squeezed. She kept going.

The feeling washed over him. His head hit the back of the shelf. Throbbing. Pulsing. It hit a few times. God, that was good. She was good. He could feel her licking off the cum. Fuck.

Slowly, it started to fade. He looked down at her. His cock was limp and covered in saliva. She swallowed and glanced up at him. Her hands squeezed his calves.

“How do they feel?”

The boots. Right.

“Alright.”

That sounded more hoarse than he expected. His throat had dried out.

“You should get them then. Walk in them some.” She stood up, hand on her hip. “There were some tarts up there. I want one.”

He reached lazily into his pocket, fumbling for his change purse. “Get me some tea.” He held the gingling bag out to her. She gave him a look and pushed his hand aside, straddling one of his legs. Her hands brushed his face, and she kissed him.

Her voice murmured into his lips. Her eyes were deep.

“That’s how you pay me.”

He scoffed a smile. Alright. “And with a strap-on dildo.”

It was her turn to grin. Her eyes wandered the ceiling. “And maybe you eat me out, too.”

He nodded softly. She kissed him again, a long peck. Her lips just felt right.

His coin purse was gone, and she was headed up front for their breakfast. He sat up finally, tucking his penis back into his pants. Already, it was starting to harden again. He slipped off the boots, put them in the box, and gathered his other purchases, holding them subtly over his crotch. As he turned, he spotted her curly hair at the cafe bar, studying something through the glass. He made his way to the clerk and set his things down.

“Kyoko,” he said. She glanced over at him, surprised. Realizing, she stuck her hand into his purse and pulled out a few coins, and returned the bag, and walking straight back to the cafe. Her curls swung behind her, and Madara shook his head.

The clerk finished adding up his total.

“Four-thousand, four-hundred and twenty-five ryō, please, sir.”

Madara blinked, pulling the billfold from the purse. He was never living in the Land of Snow.

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