hey I just met you/and this is crazy/but I’m out to kill you/so just die maybe?
In his lifetime, Madara Uchiha had never had a soulmark.
Izuna had, but it faded- many faded, during the wars. Of course so little was known about them then. Once the village was built, once there was time, research began in earnest and it turned out that soulmarks were as fickle as a breeze. There were some that remained all one’s life, some that changed, some that disappeared and not because your destined one or ones had died but rather that your destiny had changed.
There were soulmarks for brothers, soulmarks for friends. There were whole clans that never got soulmarks at all and others that seemed to pick them up in battle. Were clan kamon based on soulmarks? It was a popular theory.
Madara knew all of this peripherally. It hadn’t mattered. He didn’t have one, and so it was easy to disregard. If anything tied Madara to destiny it was the fan he displayed on his back, and that was enough for him.
Let it never be said that an Uchiha could not learn and learn quickly, because when the burning began on Madara’s palm the night he returned to life he didn’t hesitate to check.
What he saw there bewildered him.
It was a perfect swirl, vermillion red in color and bright as if it had been tattooed. Madara was tempted to believe it an Uzumaki spiral, but it wasn’t contained- didn’t begin and end in a circle. Instead the final tail of the swirl hung in empty space. It wasn’t a whirlpool, so what was it?
There were too many things to do. Army to lead, village to crush, mass genjutsu to put into place. Madara put his gloves back on and did his best to forget.
That worked for roughly a month.
Turned out Konoha wasn’t planning on going gentle into that good night, and neither were any of the other ninvillages. They’d formed an alliance, how quaint.
All the better to crush the whole ant colony than go running around looking for the mounds, Madara supposed.
His raised ninja and zetsu were working on a pincher maneuver. It was time to cut the main bulk of the Alliance’s fighting forces off from their supply lines. Whoever was running the show on the other side was good, Madara acknowledged that; for every move he made, they countered.
He had his answer when a full frontal assault was pushed back by a massive rolling boulder on a shadow yoyo string.
Ah, of course.
Which meant there was a Nara somewhere pulling all the strings. The one on the battlefield? Possibly.
Madara decided it would be best to take care of this himself. He’d watched Shikana, Chouga, and Inoko tear through armies bigger and better-trained than his zetsu. Safe to assume that their descendants were the same.
He made for the Nara first. Regular as clockwork, the Akimichi was there to meet him, kunai-for-kunai.
An Akimichi whose blood-seals which allowed his family jutsus were large, open-ended vermillion swirls.
Butterfly tongues, Madara realized, and in the Land Beyond he could almost hear Chouga Akimichi’s laughter.
((Kaguya does not exist here. I refuse. IDK what my excuse is I’ll find one but fuck that noise.))
It’s not enough to have the standard Torchwood electronics label and bar code down by the buttons; they also had to tape a little strip of paper with the full name to the TOP of the printer, just in case you forgot what the hexagon T logo stood for.
a couple of paintings i did based on a post by @kellythepitiablefangirl about an AU where bella meets edward in 1918. i saw that there was some other fanart of it and thought i’d join in <33 i hope you guys like it! ^^