This fanart means business. + fanfic (more like drabble...) + IdrawItashiforyou?
More fanart for you, this time for duel reasons. I used Shisui and Itachi to show a two character digitally inked commission example becuase ANBU uniforms and bandages look so good in b&w haha and I missed drawing them. I'm trying to put together examples of the types of commissions available from me in the near future. This is the type of thing you can expect (though yours wont be as rushed...) if you commission me for a full body inked character. I have not set up prices or examples of other types of commission yet but I will be doing that soon.
p.s. If anybody is interested in getting really cheap commissions+free stuff and helping me out I'd be welcome to draw anything! I mean ANYTHING. For commission info please look on my Deviantart, I'll be posting full listings with examples soon.
Time taken: a few hours
Used: Paint Tool SAI and Photoshop.
Text reads: Top text reads 'death water' which is the english translation of 'Shisui'. The bottom reads 'Nakano' in hirigana because I havent learnt Katakana or the correct Kanji yet xD
ALSO!
I really don't know why I'm bothering posting this...
I did a fanfic a couple of nights ago at around 2am and it could have been fantastic but I completley fffffffffffcked it up xD""
But anybody who still wants some slightly weird, hints at angsty, rediculously terrible ItaShi action please click ahead!
Title: Abandoned resistance
Summary: It's Madara's funeral and Shisui will forget his memories with the only person who knows of them.
Rating: R?
Disclaimer: All Naruto characters herein are the property of Kishimoto Masashi. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Awful unimaginative writing + excessive use of the 'F word' + badly written sex
Word Count: 2976
It really wasn't meant to happen like this.
It was a dreary, overrated, exaggerated affair. What could you expect from the funeral of Uchiha Madara. It wasn't even a question really. The masses of grey and black, the one that came in the pinstripe suit. The groups of people making small talk, drinking to help them think of 'sincere' things to say. To really give off that vibe of 'yeah-I-really-did-give-a-shit-y'know?' It was all expected. All anybody cared about here was the masses of (probably illegally) obtained money the tight old bastard had acquired throughout his much much too long life. They stand by his coffin, looking at his withered, stitched up, stuffed face, the after death botox effect. I notice a scar running down the side of his jaw that I hadn't seen before. Not surprising, I always tried to avoid him when he was alive. The scar looked like a knife wound. I knew the appearance of a knife wound because I used to be such a little shit in high school.
I make my thesis of 'probably illegally' acquired money to full blown, definitely, mob-leader style illegal. Bastard.
I took that opportunity to move away, looking at his face was unpleasant, it not only made me feel old but you could see all the stupid primping they had done to him. If he could see himself now, all stuffed and sewn like a Christmas turkey, he'd be absolutely humiliated. The thought makes me happy.
“Shisui!”
Oh shit. It's Obito. Despite the fact I've known him my whole life and he taught me how to climb trees (I fell and broke my arm), I've never quite meshed with him. He's got that cocky air about him. Not that I can talk but I'm only ever cocky with one person and I wish I was taking to that one person right now instead of Obito, who is walking up to me with such a swagger and such a rosy coloured un-Uchiha face that I can tell he'd drunk even before the strong waft of whiskey hits me. Maybe I hate him because he reminds me of me. It's no secret I'm a complete dick, I know that myself, my whole family thinks it.
“Shi, can you believe all this? Really, all this shit for Madara...” He sways a little and I cover my left arm protectively - it's never quite set right. “You know every single person here would get up on that coffin and dance if they weren't all stuck up their own arses!”
“You talk any louder and they'll hear you.” I say, swirling round the vodka in my glass uninterestedly. It's only there for show really. That's what I'll tell myself. Not because I'm trying to drown out any reasonable knowledge of ever knowing the total nightmare lying dead in that coffin behind me.
Hello Shisui-Kun...
Obito looks around as if he's really concerned for a moment before snorting, drawing several peoples attention. I wipe a little bit of spit from my face with a grimace. Fucking cousins.
“Let them all hear! You would think alcohol would loosen up these bunch of miserable bastards but noooo...”
A few of the nearer victims scowl impressively and I sigh. Maybe I hate Obito because being around him just reminds me of the little fact everybody in my family hates me the same way. We're different. Louder, less 'stick up my ass'. We have expressions other than scowl, disinterested, disapproving or oppressive. I look at Obito's glazed over eyes and decide I've had enough of him.
How are you doing today Shisui-Kun?
“Gonna go and eat something. Later.”
I leave him to find someone else to bother, walking instinctively towards the buffet table while the thought it is my mind. The food looks reasonably impressive, it probably cost a fortune knowing this family. I hope it came from the old farts money. I look towards the food, the proverbial sandwiches, sausage rolls, ham...
Madara must have been around, feeling particularly sadistic...maybe he could read my thoughts now he was no longer trapped by his wrinkly body. Whatever he could do, he happened to make me choose the sausage rolls just as another member of my family did.
It was then I crossed eyes with my younger cousin and bizzarely found myself stopping during the slow motion, musically enhanced eyes crossing over the buffet table chick flick moment, to wonder why, just why on earth this pretentious family would serve something so 'Tesco Extra Value' as sausage rolls on Madara's funeral buffet?
I forget this and return to my star crossed gazing over the table. To be honest he's the one person I was trying to avoid today. I was pissed off today, we were at a funeral, I was trapped in a room full of people I hated. I didn’t want him to have to see me in this mood.
One second. Itachi eating sausage rolls?
“I'm getting food for Sasuke.” He explains quietly and for a moment I wonder if I thought aloud. Then it occurs to me that Itachi just knows me that well, I don't even have to speak aloud most of the time.
This was another reason I didn't want to be around him today...
How is Itachi-Kun doing today hmm? He's almost thirteen isn't he? How lovely...
“Itachi!” I hear him before I see him, storming over to his older brother with a pout that always makes him appear five years old again. In reality he is twelve and tells Itachi so, snatching the paper plate away from him and complaining that he isn't five any more (his pout, hair, face and general lack of evidence for pubertal growth disagrees). He looks at the plate of sausage rolls, debating whether his liking for them or his pride came first. He glares at Itachi before adding five to his plate and hurrying away. Itachi sends him a look so loving that it practically ruffles his hair affectionately.
Then he looks back to me. I remember why I'm here more than ever because looking at Itachi and watching his too-cute-to-be-true brother just being so...them...it reminds me of the fact we're all stood in a room full of people we hate supposedly grieving over the man we hated the most. The man who used to send me those looks every time he was over at Fugaku's house, which was a lot. He never once explained them but they never stopped. They were dangerous looks, they promised dark, evil, manipulative and illegal things. They scared the living shit out of me when we were kids.
My how you've grown Shisui-Kun! You're almost as tall as me now...
Itachi always knew, I'm sure he got the looks too but he never told me. He just comforted me in his special way.
I catch myself looking at him again. I remember the time he hugged me once, after that particular time when the looks turned into god-damn touches. The thought makes me want to vomit. They were only looks, only lingers of his hand on my shoulder, behind my ears, on my back...That as enough with Madara. He never technically did anything but he always suggested it. He said 'I could do this to you right now if I felt like it'. He did it all to you with his eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it. You couldn't help but see what he saw in your imagination, the more you tried not to the more you were. Soon you felt sick about yourself. He messed with your head.
Itachi made it better. Held me, covered the back of my neck where he'd touched me with his own hands. He let me cry. Didn't mention it ever again. Helped me forget all about it.
Damn I really didn't want to see him here today.
Itachi is still looking at me and I know he knows everything I thinking. Goddammit Itachi...
Ah Shisui-Kun...I've been waiting for you...
Itachi is pausing for something. In this small space of time by the buffet table I realise just how pissed off I am. Why did I come here? Why did I come to the funeral of the man who plagued my childhood nightmares?
How is your cousin? The two of you are always together aren't you?
Itachi. Itachi had to come because his family came. I wouldn’t let him dot hat alone. He wouldn’t let me do this alone.
'You’ve been avoiding me.' His eyes stated.
'I'll make it up to you.' Mine replied.
The two of you better stick close...protect each other from those who's want to hurt you, hmm?
He got the message loud and clear and we were walking from the table, up the stairs of the huge haunting house and sadistically towards Madara's ex-bedroom.
Shit. It definitely wasn’t meant to happen like this.
The room looked no different than the last time I'd been in here. The only time. The fucking time Madara had offered to tutor me in business, I'd had to stay in his bedroom with him for an hour. An hour of those dirty looks and the hands on my back and the time he leant over and I felt his filthy breath over my neck. Tortured me with suggestion. I went home crying again. I had disgusting, filthy shameful nightmares for a week and hated myself for waking up sweaty and turned-on all twisted in my sheets.
Come closer...
I felt sick.
“He brought me here too.” Itachi said quietly, I'd almost forgot he was here. Maybe he sensed me shuddering in displeasure. Why the fuck did I have to come to this room?
“He was a sick sick sadistic bastard.” I stated. The fact we were finally acknowledging Madara's acts out loud for the first time eludes me. It isn't needed, we've both understood each other's loves since childhood. The room hums with standard empty noise. “We have some disgusting memories.”
“Lets make our own.”
I was surprised the statement came from him. Itachi never once pushed, never once suggested anything of this slightly forbidden sort. He never said anything about Madara. I looked at him and see a face so full of anxiety that it hurts me. He never said anything but he must have felt it. He'd gone through the same things as me. The touches, the looks, the nightmares. Free from the eyes of his parents and his brother and the room of Uchiha oppression downstairs, he was allowed to show himself. Never to anybody else, just me.
I can imagine him, age twelve, lying in bed alone thinking of Madara. Feeling sick, disgusted, terrified but not for himself. For Sasuke. I can see him silently crying into his pillow, imagining the possibilities Madara would touch Sasuke.
He was so fucking selfless.
“How are we going to do this?”
He had to be so relieved now he was gone.
“Like this.”
We all were.
He was kissing me in the next second, hard, desperate. Without the threat of Madara. He'd have known what we'd done. We couldn’t prove it but somehow he'd just know. He use it.
Now we could rub it in his face.
This felt like a fucking homecoming. I'd never really known home before Itachi but this right here, his lips kissing mine, hands in my hair, body sandwiched so close to mine I could hardly breathe - this was home.
Better run along home now Shisui-Kun, Itachi will be missing you won't he?
When I slipped my tongue into his lips mid thought and it broke that barrier of how far this was going when the sensation caused the both of us to shudder. Not the shuddering we both knew before. This one was different, it burned pleasantly, made us stumble over to the bed in the room. Made me push him down onto it and suck underneath his ear. God it felt good.
I heard Itachi talking in his sleep the other night...
He gasps, kicks off his shoes clumsily underneath me and undoes the top few buttons on my shirt with such haste I wondered where on earth the quiet reserved boy had gone. Then I remember that Itachi has always lived with that 'quiet', 'reserved' ideological shit pushed onto him and am suddenly horrified at myself for thinking like them. At least I could get angry, get my emotions out, complain, whine, scream. Itachi couldn’t do that. He could accept my clumsy childish attempts at cheering him up and then cry into his pillows occasionally when nobody could hear him. This right now, was Itachi letting it out. After years of comforting me, keeping me from screwing up my life, constantly on edge worrying sick about me and Sasuke, this was the one time he could finally, finally, do something for himself. Something he wanted. Something selfish in his eyes.
You two have certainly grown up now hmm?
That was when I got frantic. Practically ripping the shirt from him as I struggled to both devour his neck and open the buttons. It goes, with mine, onto the floor, Madara's floor. I yank him up, kiss him brutally and push him up properly onto the bed, Madara's bed. It then occurs to me as we roll over and he is upon me, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth and fiddling with my belt, in my really, quite messed up head, that I am about to fuck my cousin in my dead uncles bed, at his funeral.
I feel sick with both horror and joy as the thought excites me. Those looks must have messed me up more than I knew. I forget about all that though when I realise my talented cousin has removed my pants but it struggling with his own. I cant help but laugh shakily, he's never been good with himself. With others, he's better than anybody I've never known. With himself...well. I help him undress, taking his underwear with his trousers to save time and pulling the covers over us.
And now we're in the dark, in Madara's bed, writing under the covers until the air becomes like a sauna. It should be a nightmare, I've been here before like this in my nightmares. This though, it feels amazing. I'm here with the only person I want to be doing this with. Madara is dead. His ghost better had be pissed off. We're ding everything he suggested he'd to to us but he isn't here. Itachi shudders and moans something incomprehensible as I touch him and my thought train derails spectacularly. I feel like I've been waiting my whole twenty one years of life for that sound. I'd pictured it differently but somehow this sick sadistic way of going about it suited us better. It was us proving to ourselves that our nightmares were over.
It then occurs to me, I'm about to lose my virginity at twenty one to my seventeen year old cousin.
And it felt fucking good.
The air under the covers was so hot we were dripping sweat all over the sheets, I could taste it on his skin, feel it slick in the grooves of his ribcage. I could hear the bed creaking (bet the bastard loved that when he was alive, the sick fuck) I didn't care if anybody downstairs heard us. Fuck them all. This was ecstasy.
“Fuck Shisui!” I'm shocked and completely aroused as I hear Itachi swear my name. I love him when he lets go. I love his selflessness. I love the way he looks after me and Sasuke. I love his smell, his touch, his heart melting smile. God I loved this boy. I can feel tears roll onto my fingers and panic for a second but I realise, as he gives a slightly choked laugh that they are tears of relief. I cant help laughing too, despite the fact we're having sex. The fact this was happening, that he'd died and we were doing this for the first time in his bedroom...the thought was too good, too funny that I couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. I tremble. We fell dizzily into hot, frantic laughter as we writhed and ground under the quilt.
We came laughing.
I'd never felt so happy in all my life.
-
“We're going home.” Fugaku tells us later that evening, soon after we redressed, kissed more (on Madara's desk, carpet, armchair) and left the room and the bed in it's messy state. The atmosphere back downstairs was too tense, too different from the euphoria upstairs. It was such a contrast to see groups of miserable, tired lifeless people that I wanted to shout out what I'd done just to rile them up a little. I didn't though, for Itachi sake. I could be selfless too...
“Itachi! I'm not a baby!” Sasuke whines as we begin to leave and his brother is ruffling his hair.
“It's been a long day.” Itachi says and Sasuke snorts.
“It's been a great day, Madara's dead.”
Itachi stops, I stop and then Sasuke does when he notices we have.
“What?” He questions, looking at us. “What's with the funny looks?”
Itachi says nothing but I can see the look of adoration on his face. He walks over and embraces Sasuke tightly. Sasuke is too shocked at first to do anything but slowly wraps his arms around his brothers back and rolls his eyes at me, but I can see the smile he hides in Itachi's shoulder. In can see the look of relief on Itachi's face. I could still hear his ecstatic laughter in my ear.
I'd be hearing it my whole life.