#uchiha bee

Modern Mafia AU

We know Fuyumi is a shy and reserved cutie but almost every introvert/shy person ik irl , has a sport hobby , they get so into it that they forget they are in crowd and people are watching them.

So what would Fuyumi's one be ? And more importantly Raizen's reaction to watching her perform ?

(We have done Fuyumi cheering for his sport so its now Raizen's turn imo)

@shiori01 is Fuyumi's owner, I only provide life with words jeje. But, after consulting with Shiori, this is what we came up with

Brutally honest?

It’s almost impossible for them to “fall in love” in the way most people define it.

These boys, them five, don’t have the wiring for typical emotional connection. They were raised on violence, fear, dominance, and silence.

Affection was foreign. Vulnerability was punished.

They don’t associate closeness with comfort—they associate it with exposure, with threat.

So love, to them, isn’t warmth. It’s danger. It’s losing control.

And that’s the one thing they can’t afford.

That said, can they become dangerously attached? Obsessively possessive? Feel something so visceral it mimics love? Yes.

But it’s not healthy.

It’s not soft. It’s a fire that burns, not one that warms.

If a woman were ever to break through that psychological wall, it wouldn’t be because she was kind, or beautiful, or understanding.

That stuff doesn’t reach them.

What might?

Fearlessness. She’d have to not be afraid of them—but not in the naive “I see the good in you” way. That would get her discarded or broken.

She’d have to understand how dangerous they are and still stand in front of them without flinching.

Respecting their darkness without submitting to it (like Ivy for Indra).

Be a mirror of their own pain. If they saw in her the same kind of fractured childhood, the same inability to love or be loved, the same violent coping mechanisms—they’d recognize themselves.

That kind of familiarity breeds obsession. She’d become less of a person and more of a reflection they can't look away from (like Bee for Izuna).

Or a crack in their armor. Not because she said the right words. But because she saw them. Maybe accidentally. Maybe in a moment where they weren’t guarded. And instead of using it, she walked away. Didn’t manipulate it.

That kind of restraint—not using their weakness against them—would haunt them (like Obito with his gf).

But even then, love wouldn’t look like affection.

It would look like possessiveness. Obsession. Protection veiled as control. A violent loyalty that chokes rather than comforts.

Maybe they would hurt her, and anyone who tried to get near her. They’d isolate her. Keep her locked into their world because it’s the only place they can feel secure.

Not out of romance—but out of fear of abandonment.

They wouldn’t suddenly become good men.

They’d treat her “right” in the only way they understand—by making sure no one else ever touches her.

By destroying anything that threatens her.

By being the reason she never needs to ask anyone else for anything, even if it means suffocating her in the process.

And if she ever left?

They wouldn’t move on.

I'm sorryyyyyyy, I can't help writing Izuna as a sex addict when he's around Bee because this girl drives him crazy

Izuna was already behind Bee before the words were even finished, fingers buried in her hair like it belonged to him. He dragged his nails along her scalp in a slow rake, smug grin flashing as she stiffened under the touch.

-Destined to be a stylist, huh?- he drawled, twisting a strand around his finger before letting it slide free. -The only scissors I’d use on her are the kind that strip clothes off in two snips. My tips don’t come out of a magazine; they come with my hands all over her hair, tangling it up, pulling until her eyes water.-

Bee made a faint sound, half exasperation, half something else. -You make it sound like you’re doing me a favor.-

-I am,- he said without missing a beat, leaning down until his breath ghosted her ear. -I’m the reason it shines, baby. The reason it smells like something I want to bury my face in after I’ve wrecked you. You think I’m gonna let anyone else touch it? Nah baby. You’re stuck with me as your personal hairdresser, and your personal everything else.-

Her cheeks burned, fingers curling into her lap, but she didn’t move away. Only kept quiet.

Mar barked a long laugh. She leaned back into the velvet couch, red hair tumbling over one shoulder, grin reckless. -Self-aware? Baby, I’m self-destructive. That’s not the same thing. I know exactly what I’m doing when I throw myself into fire. I just don’t care enough to stop.- Her eyes glittered, teeth flashing. -Call it awareness, call it a death wish, I like the taste either way.-

Aya clicked her rosary beads together, unimpressed. -Self-awareness is useless when it doesn’t lead to obedience. You can acknowledge your sins and still continue to wallow in them. That is not wisdom. That is decay.- Her gaze cut to her daughter.

Ivy’s voice broke the silence that followed, quiet and trembling at first. -I’m aware. I know I’m chained to someone who fucked me up. I know my love for Indra is both poison and medicine. I know Raizen will grow up inside that same venom if I don’t stop it.- She drew in a shaky breath, refusing to look at Aya. -So yes. I just… don’t know if I’m strong enough to choose differently.-

Bee sipped her tea, words soft but clear. -I see every crack in myself. I’ve lived inside them since the night Obito— She stopped herself. -...self-awareness doesn’t mean healing. It means I’ve memorized the shape of my ruin. And Cirse— her eyes flickered briefly toward the tall woman —is the only one who ever asked me what I wanted to do with it.-

Uri’s answer came last, blunt and stripped. -I know what I am. I know where I come from. And I know I don’t leave, even when I should.- She shrugged, a small, sharp motion. -Awareness doesn’t save me. It just makes the cage clearer.-

Cirse, calm in her seat, let the words hang before speaking. Her black eyes softened as she looked around the circle. -Awareness is only the first step. Shadow work, as I said before, is not about seeing the wound; it’s about deciding whether to keep bleeding or to stitch it shut. My children chose to keep bleeding. But you— her hand moved, palm open, a gesture of inclusion to any anons reading —you can choose differently.-

I LOVEEE IZUNAA AND BEE, FAV COUPLEE EVERRRRR

I wanna know what they have to say about eachother?( like describe what they like physically or mentally about eachother, or whatever you wantttt🫠🫠🫠🫠)

Ps( you are best writer everr,BIGGEST HUGGG FOR YOUU🫶🏻)

MY FAV COUPLE TOO, BY FAR, AND THANK YOUUUUUUUUUU, SUCH WARM HUGGGG!!!!!!!!! I LOVE UUUUUUUUUU

Bee barely had time to step through the door before Izuna was on her, all teeth and smoke, his arm hooking low around her waist and pulling her straight onto his lap like she’d been meant to sit there all along. His palm spread wide across her stomach, thumb dragging a lazy circle just beneath her ribs, while his mouth went straight for her throat.

-Anon wants to know what we think of each other, baby,- he said against her skin, his voice a low rasp that was half amusement, half threat. His free hand slipped higher, brushing the underside of her breast like it was nothing. -Physically? Mouse has the kind of tits you can bruise with just your palms. Ass that fits in both hands, tight enough I’d sell half my soul to keep it mine. And that face... fuck, the way she bites her lip every time I push too far.- He caught her chin with two fingers, tilting her head so her flushed face was on display to the entire room. -That blush alone could make me cum.-

Bee stiffened, hating the way her pulse jumped at the crude praise, hating the eyes on her even more. She muttered, quiet but firm, -You’re disgusting. Not everything has to be sexual.-

Izuna smirked, dragging his nose down her jaw like he was scenting her. -Yeah, but you’re dripping for it, mouse. Don’t bother denying it, I can feel every twitch when I grind my thigh up under you.- He shifted deliberately, pressing his leg in between her legs until she squirmed, breath catching in her throat.

Bee tried to twist her face away, tried to tuck her chin down so no one else could read the storm under her skin. -You never shut up. You’re loud, you’re… unbearable. You take up all the space in a room and you drag me into it—

—because you love it.- Izuna cut her off with a laugh, one hand kneading her thigh high enough that her skirt rode up. -Don’t act like you’d rather be invisible. You want to be seen. You just don’t want to admit it. And lucky for you, I see everything.- He bent to her ear, voice dropping to a growl. -Especially the way your thighs clench when I talk about fucking you raw.-

Bee shivered, knuckles white around her skirt. Her voice cracked when she hissed back, -You make everything filthy.-

Izuna’s grin widened, wicked. -Because everything about you is filthy, once I put my hands on it. Even that sweet little voice, how it sounds when you’re begging me to fuck you harder? My favorite fucking sound in the world.- His hand slid lower, fingers digging into the meat of her ass as he rocked her once, making her gasp against her will. -See? There it is. Can’t fake it, mouse.-

Bee’s face burned, the shameful heat crawling down her neck. She could’ve shoved him away, could’ve clawed her way free, but she didn’t. Instead, she whispered, shaky, -This is just impossible...-

-Impossible to resist,- Izuna corrected instantly, smug and sharp. He kissed her hard then, biting her bottom lip until she winced, until her breath broke against his mouth. Pulling back just enough to look her in the eye, he added with brutal clarity: -What I like about you? You’re mine. Every blush, every squirm, every time you try to pretend you hate me. It’s all mine to play with.-

Bee let her head tip against his shoulder for a moment, her voice low, almost like she regretted letting it out in front of everyone. -What I actually like… it’s not just the way you grab me, or how you talk. It’s that you never let me slip away, even when I try to vanish into corners. You don’t let me disappear. I hate it, I love it, I don’t even know... but it makes me feel like I matter, like someone sees me and refuses to look away.- She pressed her lips together, cheeks hot, then muttered, -And fine… your tattoos are hot as hell too.-

Indra: Drinking. Until I pass out. Nothing else works.

Madara: I clean. My blades, daggers, anything sharp. If it isn’t spotless, I can’t focus. It’s… necessary.

Obito: Self-harm, I guess? I bite, nails first, then skin if I’m really… stressed. Gets bad. Infections and all.

Shisui: I just paint. Loud music, all black and red, messy as hell. Doesn’t make sense, doesn’t have to. Just… I need it to feel anything besides... that.

Izuna: Work out. Hard. Fast. Pain burns out the rest. Helps me not to think.

Then the girls. Ivy flicked her ash into a tray, smoke curling around her face. -Chain-smoke. Until I can’t breathe. My lungs scream for mercy before my mind lets go.- Her grin was faint, tired, almost a warning.

Uri shook her head, hands resting in her lap. -I… don’t really have one. I just… hold it in until it explodes, I guess.-

Bee: I touch my face. Blackheads, pimples… even if there's nothing there to pick at. Until I stare too long and… I feel like I’m not even in my body anymore.

AAAAAAAAAA YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! These novels all take place simultaneously, give or take a few years here and there, but within the same period and context, so everyone ends up crossing paths. Since you mentioned missing Bee... yeah, I miss her too. That’s actually why I’m completely rewriting her story with Izuna. I’m not going as dark this time: I want Izuna to have the chance to be a dad. Here’s a little sneak peek of a scene I wrote yesterday for their novel, just to show how deeply intertwined the Uchihas’ stories are in this universe.

Indra and Ivy's mansion was too quiet for a house that had once echoed with power.

Outside, the evening light dripped cold across the marble floor, gold suffocating against stone. Inside, Raizen’s small footsteps padded aimlessly through the living room, dragging a toy car across the coffee table like he wasn’t the heir to an empire currently bleeding from its throat.

Ivy sat curled in the armchair. The collar of her t-shirt slid off her shoulder, revealing skin too clean for the amount of rage she carried. Her silence had teeth now. Not the fragile kind. The patient, carnivorous kind.

Izuna leaned against the edge of the low console table, arms crossed over his chest, watching the boy.

Shisui sat with his legs thrown over the arm of the couch, chewing on a lollipop like it might distract him from the tension wrapped around Ivy’s jaw.

It didn’t.

None of them said anything for a long time. That was how it was now. The whole compound felt stuck between a heartbeat and a loaded gun.

When Ivy finally did speak, it cracked the air open like a bad omen.

-He hasn’t called. Not once.

Shisui pulled the candy from his mouth. -You want honesty or comfort?-

-Neither.- Her voice was low. Final. -I want Indra to come home and raise his fucking son.-

Izuna watched Raizen crawl halfway under the table to retrieve his toy.

-You know how he gets,- Shisui murmured, voice still light but loaded. "XXXXX" dies, and Indra throws himself into the abyss like grief makes him holy.-

Izuna finally exhaled. -It’s not about "XXXX". It’s about what "XXXXX's" death means.-

-I saw the list of names Obito pulled,- Shisui said. -The ones who celebrated too fast after "XXXXX" dropped. They’ll be handled.-

She looked away. -By who? Indra’s gone. Obito's stretched thin. And you two...- her mouth twisted, -can’t even go a week without making headlines.-

-Don’t lump me in with this degenerate,- Shisui muttered.

-You’re the worst of this family,- Ivy snapped.

-Best,- he corrected, mock wounded. -I’m the best dressed, best tempered—

-Best at lying.

His grin was lazy, but there was something sharper beneath it. -Only when it counts.-

Raizen climbed up to Izuna’s side without asking, holding a broken toy in his hand like an offering. Izuna crouched, took it silently, and began fixing it. His hands moved like a craftsman’s, precise, careful, detached.

-I’m holding this together with duct tape and threats,- Ivy said, finally letting her voice crack. -Indra left without saying goodbye. Raizen cries in his sleep. I haven’t eaten in three days, and... he fucking died. One of ours fucking died.-

-You’re doing fine, Ivy- Izuna said.

Ivy’s gaze landed on him, sharp as razors, mad. -What the fuck have you been doing? Why are you so chill out of nowhere?-

He didn’t answer right away. Finished snapping the toy’s wheel back into place and handed it back to the boy, who accepted it wordlessly and wandered back to the corner.

-Working.

-You’re never just working.

Shisui chuckled under his breath, tossing a pillow across the couch to rest his head on. -He’s got a new toy.-

Ivy leaned forward. -You’re fucking another bartender, are you?-

-Fucking? Many,- Izuna said. -The one I want... she won't let me.-

-Oh,- Shisui drawled, half-laughing now. -So it’s that kind of fixation.-

-She’s skittish,- Izuna muttered, scratching the edge of his jaw, bored, restless. -Like a bird someone broke but didn’t kill. Can’t decide if she wants to fly or bite.-

-Doesn’t sound like your type,- Ivy said dryly. -You like the ones that cry when you choke them.-

Shisui snorted. -He likes the ones that beg him to.-

Izuna gave them nothing. He just picked up one of Raizen’s other toys and began spinning it in his hand, slow and mechanical. -She quit the bar,- he said. -Disappeared. I didn’t push.-

Shisui gave him a look like he already knew all of that. -And now?-

-Now I’m watching.

Ivy stood up and walked to the window, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. -You shouldn’t get attached to civilians. You’re all fucked up enough. Don't fuck her life up.-

-No one’s attached,- Izuna said coolly.

Shisui looked at him like he knew it was a lie. -You’re obsessed.-

Izuna’s lip curled. -Takes one to know one.-

Shisui smiled, slow and serpent-like. -True. But I’m honest about mine.-

Ivy didn’t respond.

She stood there, back lit by the darkening sky, fingers digging into her own ribs like she could hold herself together if she just pressed hard enough.

-This girl's quiet,- Izuna said, eyes still on Raizen. -Doesn’t belong in places like ours.-

-So why drag her in?- Ivy asked.

-I won't.

-Bullshit.

Izuna looked up at her then, expression blank. -She walked out. I let her.-

Shisui laughed softly, shaking his head. -So fucking romantic.-

-She doesn’t like you? Leave it alone.- Ivy warned. -You’re going to scare her worse than you already have. Let the girl live a normal life.-

-Scare? Doesn't like me??? None of that stops her from looking back at me, every single time.

That silence was different.

It wasn’t judgment. It wasn’t pity. It was recognition.

Ivy looked at him for a long moment before turning away again, muttering more to herself than to either of them.

-She should run.

Izuna said nothing.

Because they all knew.

Bee wouldn’t.

Indra didn’t hesitate and let the screen of his phone glow. A warm, moody shot of Ivy on their balcony, her back to the camera, hair spilling over bare shoulders. It looked stolen, intimate, and intentional. -My children are my home screen,- he said flatly, sliding the phone back into his pocket. No one dared to poke at that.

Izuna leaned back in his chair, smug grin in place, and tilted his phone just enough. Lockscreen: Bee in black lingerie, face hidden, curve of her body perfectly caught in low light. -You don’t need to see her face,- he said, almost purring. -I know who she is.-

Shisui laughed under his breath when the attention shifted to him. He flipped his phone and there it was: himself. Not just any selfie. A perfectly lit shot, muscles flexed just enough, jawline sharp, a bead of sweat trailing down his neck. Sin captured in pixels.

-You’re such a narcissist,- Obito muttered.

Shisui shrugged. -When you look like this, why wouldn’t you?-

Obito fidgeted, thumb brushing over his case before finally turning the screen. Pinterest aesthetic, soft blues, clouds over a green field. Peaceful, quiet.

-And the home screen?- Izuna pressed.

Hesitated, then turned it again. Chiquito, staring back in its happy form. Izuna laughed so hard it shook the chair. -Oh, you’re precious.-

-He keeps me calm, unlike any of you.

Madara gave them all a look of pure disdain before slowly showing his. The screen was exactly what you’d expect from someone with the soul of an old man: default wallpaper, the kind that came with the phone, a blurry gradient of blue and green.

-You’re kidding,- Shisui said.

-It works,- Madara replied coldly. -I don’t need my phone to stroke my ego.-

Izuna snickered. -Old man energy.-