Originally posted by corazons

Originally posted by unfamiliarworld

Originally posted by phiones

Originally posted by edo--tensei

Originally posted by itadattebane

Originally posted by corazons

Originally posted by issmonthme

In other words, The Uchiha Clan

carnivorousgekkou  asked:

SakuOro timetravel fix-it shenanigans? Something goes wrong during one of his experiments and both land somewhere in the warring states era and purpossely/accidentally prevent Izuna's death. Just imagine Izuna's reaction to Orochimaru's deadly prettiness, Orochimaru's chrush on Tobirama ('s brain) and Sakumo being absolutely, definitely not the slightest bit jealous

“Oh, fuck me,” is the first thing Izuna says upon opening his eyes.

The gloriously beautiful creature hovering over him, complete with heavy, sharp-edged chakra that promises to be absolutely devastating when unleashed, simply arches one perfect brow at him. Long, dark hair, even darker than an Uchiha’s, swings across Izuna’s line of vision as the man sits back, and Izuna physically cannot resist.

He catches a handful of it, feels the heaviness against his fingers and takes a breath, mind already spinning thoughts about how it would feel against other skin.  

There’s a pause, and the man tips his head. “Hairpulling, really? Now, is that any way to treat someone who pulled you back from the brink of death?” he asks silkily, with just the barest edge of menace that sends a thrill down Izuna’s spine.

It takes a moment for the pieces to connect. The last thing Izuna remembers is telling Madara to take his eyes, because he was dying from Tobirama’s blow and at least that way his brother wouldn’t end up an only child and blind. After that…

Green, somewhere beyond his senses. Healing chakra, as sharp and precise as a scalpel.

“You saved me?” he says, and breathes out. “You—that should have been a mortal wound.”

Pale lips tilt into a smirk that’s perfectly at home on that elegant face, and those eyes—well. Izuna’s always been a fan of hidden knowledge, and this man’s eyes promise secrets without end, just waiting for someone to pull them out and untwist them.

“My medical skills are well beyond the means of any healers you know,” the man says, and it’s arrogant and haughty but also spoken with unhesitating certainty. “Care to let go?”

There’s a crackle of white chakra, bright enough to blind, and the flat of a tantō taps the hand Izuna has wound in the man’s hair. “That was your only polite warning,” another man says, and his tone is amiable, but there’s something under it that sounds like bared teeth and blood. Izuna flicks a glance at the swordsman, to find white hair and sharp grey eyes above a smile that might as well be a threat. “Next time Orochimaru has to ask you I take the whole hand.”

Izuna swallows hard, making his fingers relax until the dark hair slides out of his grasp. He can’t quite force himself to look away from the white-haired man’s burning eyes, though. Also gorgeous, if in a different way than Orochimaru. Equally appealing, though, Izuna can say that without a doubt.

“Fuck me,” he repeats, and isn’t sure if it’s a request or a curse on his terrible luck. “You—who are you?”

“No need to growl, Sakumo,” Orochimaru says lightly, ignoring Izuna beyond a fleeting look that could mean anything. “He’s healed, so I think my work here is done.”

Satisfaction slides into Sakumo’s eyes, and he resheathes his sword, turning to offer his companion a hand up. He looks at Izuna, too, but this one is very much a challenge as he gently grasps Orochimaru’s fingers and pulls him to his feet. Taking a deliberate step into Orochimaru’s space, he touches his waist, gaze flickering up to his face, and smiles fondly.

“You’re all right?” he asks, and when Orochimaru levels a cool stare at him he laughs, raising his hand. “Nothing meant by it, lovely, I swear. You used a lot of chakra just now, that’s all.”

“Fine,” Orochimaru allows, though one brow lifts faintly in silent judgement. “We should have just enough time to make it to the Senju before dark, if we leave—”

What?” Izuna demands before he can stop himself, shoving upright. “You can’t go to the Senju! They’re out enemies!”

The roll of Orochimaru’s eyes is very obvious. “Senju Tobirama is the most incredible shinobi to ever walk this earth, and you want me to avoid speaking with him because your fathers had a rivalry?” he asks, derisive and cutting. “I think not.”

Izuna gapes. Most incredible shinobi? Tobirama? That’s so entirely unfair that he can’t even find the words to describe it.

It’s little comfort that Sakumo doesn’t look entirely accepting of the statement either, though he doesn’t argue.

“I—most incredible?” Izuna finally manages to get out. “He just—all he has is water! And that flashy yellow light shunshin thing!”

Orochimaru’s expression goes flinty. “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion,” he says coolly. “Even, I suppose, when it’s wrong.” In a sweep of dark hair and pale robes, he turns, making for the doorway, and says impatiently, “Sakumo, we’re leaving.”

Sakumo gives Izuna a smile that’s about twenty percent better luck next time and eighty percent ha, and you thought you had a chance. “Coming, lovely,” he says cheerfully, following Orochimaru out of the room and dragging Izuna’s hopes of a threesome away with him.

Izuna scrambles out of what was supposed to be his deathbed and hurries after them. Like hell he’s going to let Senju Tobirama hit that before he does.