#hashirama senju fanfic

[itjazzbicch]

Lustful Tempest

Pairing: Hashirama Senju x Fem Reader 

First time writing for Hashirama so I hope I did well! 

Summary: After laughing with Madara when the reader claims that she could become Hokage, she feels offended, showing her anger, but Hashirama comes to make things right with her, letting her choose the way for him to do so...

Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) (Drunk sex, unprotected sex, handjob, foreplay, oral M receiving, outdoor sex, sub M)

Word Count: 2.4k 

Getting to sit with my two best friends, and having some food and sake, was a good time since the village was still growing and there was a very hot topic floating around.

Who was going to be the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village?

The big debate was between Hashirama and Madara, of course, who was still talking about the topic while we were supposed to be having dinner and relaxing.

“If you ask me, you two are lucky that I don’t step into the Hokage race.”

My comment had the two of them staring at me.

“What?” I scoffed while drinking some sake, “I have a reputation that lives up to both of yours.”

At the same time, they looked at one another instead, then busted out in laughter. Cheek red from being drunk and clinging to one another as they laughed to the point where they were crying tears.

“Did you hear that, Hashirama?!” Madara wheezed, slapping the table with him, “Y/N as HOKAGE?!”

“What of it?!” I snarled at them, standing up with hellfire in my eyes.

“She’s ambitious, isn’t she?!” Hashirama wheezed along, wiping his eyes while lying against Madara’s shoulder.

The nerve of them two! Saying that to their best friend!

With clenched fists, I took some money that would cover my part of dinner, slamming it on the table, taking the entire bottle of sake that we shared and chugging it, making sure to slam it down to, the glass clank silencing them.

“Where are you going?” They wondered, only watching as I stormed out of the restaurant.

Marching through the dark, their laughs were the only thing I could hear, Madara’s voice echoing:

“Y/N as Hokage?!”

“They think I’m not worthy of being Hokage?!” Talking to myself, I was already drunk too, my head boiling with anger as I made it to my training grounds, taking my sword and yelling into the sky:

“Baka! Baka! Baka!”

Taking out my anger on a tree with my sword, I kept letting the anger out, a yell coming out with every swing of my sword:

“I’m a living legend and they mocked me?! Mock ME?!”

One foot stepping back, letting out an anger-filled war cry, I sliced the tree I was cutting into two. Not phased in the slightest by the noise of birds flying away, the massive creak of the tree falling and crashing to the ground next to its new, fresh stump.

“Just for that,” I said calmly, my little outbursts easing me down, head on straight as I promised myself, “I’ll do whatever it takes to become Hokage!”

My voice echoed out into the night, I heard a small crunch of leaves behind me.

Someone was here. Spotting their shadow in the corner of my eye, I whipped a shuriken that was strapped to my thigh, hearing Hashirama’s screech:

“HEY! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!”

Of course, it was Hashirama.

“You damn idiot,” I huffed, standing straight and flashing my sword against the moonlight, warning, “You should know better than to sneak up on me.”

“You’re mean sometimes, you know that?” Oh gosh, there was his depressed face with his head down low, trying to make me feel bad, which he failed at:

“And again, you should know better than to do something like that while I have my back turned!”

“Poor tree,” He ignored my comment, coming to see the tree I sliced in half, “What did it ever do to you?”

“Want me to cut you in half instead?” I spat, watching as his hand tracked the wood of the trunk and the part that fell, sitting against the stump almost like a chair:

“A clean cut.”

“I could slice a mountain in half if I tried,” I smirked confidently, putting up my sword and wondering, “So, what made you come along and disrupt my peace?”

“Well, let’s see,” He hummed, the drunk goofiness still in his voice as he hugged me from behind, head resting on my shoulder while he mocked me again, “You slamming everything on the table, stomping outside yelling, baka! Baka! That might be why.”

The anger on my face from him mocking me made him giggle, but came to silence as he rubbed my shoulders, whispering:

“You want to know why we laughed when you said you’d become Hokage?”

“Why?” I growled, waiting to hear his answer before I reacted, foot next to my sword and ready to kick it up at any second, but listening:

“Madara laughed because well, he’s Madara. But I laughed because-“

“Because why?” My tone showed that I had no patience, but his next words made me the one being still and quiet:

“Because maybe I was trying to deny the fact that you would be a better choice for Hokage. Better than Madara and myself.”

“Oh, isn’t that precious?” I giggled, looking into his eyes this time and joking, “I’m telling everyone that you said those words.”

“That’s not nice. I’m trying to be serious here,” He pouted, having to look away from his puppy dog eyes that he’d use on me.

As I had nothing else to say at the moment, Hashirama spoke again:

“I know that our laughing made you upset.”

“No shit,” I mumbled under my breath, crossing my arms, side-eyeing him again while his voice grew sweet, hands falling from my shoulders to my hips, wrapping around and swaying with me:

“But I’m more than willing to make it up to you. We could visit the hot springs, and go shopping. Ooo! Better yet! Maybe that new sword you’ve been wanting.”

“I don’t want your sympathy,”

“You’re gonna pass up my offer?” He whispered in my ear, “If you don’t like my ideas, feel free to use your own. I’ll make any one of your wishes a reality.”

I paid close attention to how he was holding me, pressing his hips in my backside, words rolling off his tongue in a manner I’d never heard for him:

“Any single idea that runs through that wild head of yours.”

“Hashirama,” I started giggling again, not believing that I had to ask, “Are you coming on to me?”

“I can if you want me to,” He giggled back, making me laugh more and he laughed along.

It did feel good to have a nice laugh, a tingle rattling down my spine as he kissed my ear:

“Your laugh is so cute.”

“You know,” My tongue clicked, turning around to face him, “I think I have an idea in mind now.”

“Ooo?” He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows, “Let’s hear it.”

“Remember how everyone called me, the Tempest, on the battlefield? Do you know what that means?”

Taking the time to think, I went ahead and answered for him:

“It means great anger or excitement. But people saw me as the meaning of a violently windy storm. A violent, windy storm taking away our enemies.”

“And that’s linked to your idea how?” He had no clue what I was leading to and that made me chuckle, guiding him to the path I was on when I traced his lower lip, thumb caressing it as I got close enough to whisper to him with lust:

“You can be the first to see what other kinds of wild storms I’m able to create.”

“Aww, me? The first?” He was giggling with excitement, taking my hand and ready to go, “I’m honored.”

Turning to leave, I wasn’t patient enough for that, whipping him back to me and smirking:

“We don’t have to go anywhere. Go sit against the tree.”

“Yes ma’am,” He smiled and skipped over to the tree trunk, sitting back against the frame the tree created.

While his back was turned, I swiped my panties off under my skirt before he could notice, following along as he slouched back, legs spread.

Standing between them, it was obvious that he was hard, staring at the line of his erection and humming as I stepped over his lap:

“Hmm, where should I begin?”

“I have a few ideas in mind,” He winked, going to hold my hips, “I am trying to make things up to you, after all.”

“Oh you will,” I smirked, then flashed a wicked smile as I took his hands and placed them at his sides, sitting on his lap and grinding against his hard-on, “All you need to do is sit there and be a good boy for me. Got that?”

My words and tone caught him off guard, needing to take in the side of me that he’d never seen, hands gripping his pants while I continued to grind, beginning the teasing that I knew he’d find agonizing.

“Why the face? You don’t think I’m that cruel, do you?” I sounded so innocent as my lips pressed against his neck, making space for my hand to slip into his pants, softly stroking his cock before I took it into my hands.

“I know you’re not,” He breathed in, eyes closed and enjoying my hand that freed his cock, pumping softly at first.

“See?” Leaving some hickeys on his neck, my hand started to pump faster, making sure to sensitize his tip more and more as my speed increased, my whisper lustfully devilish, “I can still get my own fix just by doing this, you know?”

Instead of words, he started groaning at the feeling, body tensing up and growing louder the faster I went.

“That feels good, Hashi?” Nibbling on his ear, I kept his earlobe trapped in my teeth, thumb smearing his pre along his slit.

“Yeah, it feels good,” He panted, not fighting the temptation of squeezing my hip, biting his lip as his huffs ran from his chest harder.

“Hmm,” I hummed to hide my laughs as I stopped, his eyes showing the disappointment of not reaching his climax, “Don’t look at me like that. I just have another question for you is all.”

“And that is?” He was trying his hardest to let me be in control, hands fidgeting then immediately gripping his pants again as I straddled him, rolling my hips upward, folds and slick coating his shaft:

“Does it feel as good as that?”

I let him get a good feel, cock nice and wet now with my hips rolling, sitting up some so his tip was right at my dripping entrance, teasing some penetration.

Only letting out pleasurable noise, I pressed my chest against his, locking my position, pressing my lips against his:

“Are you ready for the storm, Hashirama?”

His lips screamed avidity and desire as he kissed me back, confident in his claim:

“I’m always ready.”

“You sure about that?” I stopped kissing to ask faintly and before he could react, I dropped right onto his cock, down to the base, sharing a loud moan with him.

I was able to keep mine down to focus and watch how his head fell back, not afraid to keep making noise while I started to bounce at a relentless speed.

Just to add to it, I opened up his shirt, hands gliding against his chest, thumbs rubbing in circles across and down to his nipples.

“My goodness, Hashi,” I moaned softly, noticing the little smiles he’d make as he heard them, leaning to his ear so he’d get all of it imprinted in his mind forever.

“C-Can I hold you?” He was so obedient and so, I slowed to place his hands on my hips:

“I’d say you earned that at least.”

His hands fell from my hips to my ass, holding with all his strength, feeling every giggle while my hips continued to smack off of his. Hips like a cyclone as they swirled around.

I loved how he was holding up. A nonstop, wicked speed would usually make someone crumble within a short few minutes.

“Thank you,” He panted, looking down at my skirt as I sat back some, lifted my skirt, and shifted my hips:

“You wanna watch?”

He was gnawing on his lip again, eyes locked on the sight of his cock disappearing inside of me, over and over.

“Like how good I take it?” Holding his knees to keep me right posture to throw myself a little harder, a loud moan made his eyes light up, moaning with a smile at my walls growing super tight.

“Words can’t describe it,” His head was falling back again, but his eye was still on me, “You’re squeezing the life out of me.”

“I can’t help it,” I was fighting some whines, the overstimulation that I set myself up for hitting me all at once, keeping up the speed and friction by pulling my strength from deep within me, his tip hitting that sweet bump again and sending me off, “Hashi!”

“Oh, my f-“ My orgasm even had him shaking, gasping at the squelch slick all over his cock, instantly throbbing at it, “Y/N,”

“I know, sweetie,” Sitting up, I picked myself up despite my legs shaking like hell, keeping just his tip inside but riding it just the same, “You don’t have to hold back.”

“I’m-“ Swallowing a breath, he was shaking too, feeling his cock throb even harder, hands latched to the back of my thighs, having him stuttering, “I’m, I-I’m,”

I already knew, quickly picked myself up and his seed shot all over his stomach, twitching and throbbing still after letting out every drop.

“Since that was so good,” Kissing his cheek, his tired eyes followed me down to my knees, tongue at his navel, “You earned this.”

He panted harder at the sight of my tongue licking him up off his stomach, clean and now curious as my head dipped down, licking his tip clean, sucking softly to make sure he was sucked up dry.

“Oh my dear, you’re too kind,” Even if he had to stay put, his smile showed how much he loved all of that, naturally holding the back of my head as I bobbed my head down his cock till it was down my throat, coming back up slow and chuckling when I picked my head up.

“Just remember, you upset me again, I won’t go so easy the next time,” I warned playfully, giggling with him as he brought me to his lap again, being playful too:

“As long as I make things right, I’m sure you’ll be smiling just like you are now.”  

[itachislbeloved]

Look at that

"Look at that. Look up in the mirror, or I will stop. Keep looking at the way your whore of a pussy is clenching so hard around me. Look at the way it is holding onto me for dear life." As he said that, you looked up to see your disheveled state. Your face was red from all the crying and still he had one of his hands wrapped around your neck while he continued pounding in you from behind. You could see his other hand rubbing on your clit from the mirror, as it added more to your pleasure.

"Yes, just like that, my dirty little whore, if you close your eyes or stop looking at us in the mirror I will stop." He warned you as you looked in the mirror at the sinful image of him pounding in your sensitive pussy. You continued moaning as he continued pounding in you, "Choke me harder please." You begged as he chuckled in a deep voice, in your ear from behind, "You like it, slut, huh? You like it when I choke you?" He asked as he choked you harder and you could feel your head feel lighter as he continued pounding more into you. His thrusts got more rough and you were sure that his grip on your throat would leave marks.

You couldn't help the loud moans that escaped past your lips due to his relentless thrusts. You looked at the image of you two in the mirror through your half lidded eyes as you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge and he chuckled in your ear as he felt you clench around him tightly, "Are you going to cum, my little slut?" You could just nod your head and looked at him with a pleading look through the mirror and his hand tightened around your throat as he whispered in your ear from behind, "Come around me, make a mess, show me how much of a dirty little whore you are."

As soon as those words escaped his lips, you came undone around him and heavy breaths escaped your lips while his poundings didn't stop and you felt him twitch in you and you grinded your hips around him, "Mhm, darling, I'm going to come in you, is that what you want? Want me to pump you full of my cum till it oozes out, hm?" He asked in a hoarse voice and you couldn't speak anything but just nod your head with little whimpers escaping your lips as he pounded in your sensitive pussy. "Fucked you so dumb that you can't even form a sentence, huh." He said smugly and you felt ropes of thick cum paint your insides and you yourself felt cumming around him again.

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

Geto, Toji, Kakashi, Shikamaru, Sanemi Shinezugawa, Gojo, Shisui, Sasuke, Gaara, Sukuna, Madara, Tobirama.

(I can't think of other characters, do let me know if I missed others <3)

I don't know what this is I just wrote anything I'm so sorry😭

[evilkitten3]

hey so. uh

you guys know how madara's armor doesn't have a "back" right?

like he walks around with his ass completely unshielded

well. um.

hm

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Chapter IX

Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.

Word Count: 6.8k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including tags for blood and descriptions of gore. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Notes: Hopefully we can wrap all this up soon... god willing... but hey this piece finally has somewhat of a direction (?) now.

An Uchiha warrior with a fatal wound should give his life in a suicide attack, but not Izuna. No, the brother of Madara would not die a warrior’s death on the battlefield. Instead, the Uchiha retreated from their path to the northern shoulder, surrendering the territory to the Senju in a victory their rivals would call “The Conquering of King’s Neck.”

The Uchiha returned suddenly, earlier than they should have, and having lost great numbers. Madara did not use the village gates but shot right over the sharpened walls like a deranged comet falling from the sky. He carried Izuna’s body in his arms, holding his brother close to his chest. Both were covered in blood and heavy wounds. They had been the first to arrive, heralding in the news of their defeat without a single word of it uttered.

Madara shouted for medical assistance loud enough to startle the entire settlement, and in a blur of confusion, agony, and chaos, Izuna was brought to a doctor, and the two brothers were sealed inside a private room as quickly as the commotion had started.

The entire village stirred to life with urgency. People emerged from their cottages and herded their children out of the street as the rest of the battalion emerged from the forest and trudged toward the front gates.

The men who had stayed behind rushed the injured to the hospital and hurried around the newly returned soldiers to assist in treating their wounds. Women gathered water from the well, ready to help receive the weary soldiers. 

Most injured warriors were gathered in one large room and treated on cots side by side, but not Izuna. Even in the sunlight, gathered citizens could see Madara’s hulking form pace back and forth from inside their private room.

No one else was allowed in except for the best physician in the village, who was currently facing the brunt of Madara’s furious rage. You could hear the clattering of furniture and thrown items hitting the mat floor from down the road. 

You clutched your medicine pack, shouting and shoving through the crowd as you approached the triage.

“Make way for the apothecary!” 

You came running as soon as you received word. The medics who went to the scene before you had their own medical packs with prepared remedies within them, but if the medics were to perform treatments on such a large group of men, they would need all the medicines they could get. 

Madara had, after all, forbidden you from creating more heavy-duty remedies in anticipation of a victory for the Uchiha. He told you that fast-acting cures would be all that would be needed and did not discriminate when it came to potency. The high ground belonged to the Uchiha, and Madara himself formulated their strategy for the ambush. But Madara was left with little more than the taste of defeat and bloodied hands after the battle. 

You hurried across the dirt path, the dry pebbles and earth making hurried scratching noises below the soles of your sandals. You clutched your oversized medicinal bag. The material wasn’t strong enough to carry the number of remedies you had shoved haphazardly inside. Your eyes were set on the treatment center where the soldiers were being taken. The little time you had was crucial for saving as many lives as you could.

Time seemed to slow as you ran past the paper door leading to Izuna’s private room, and you failed to notice the large hand that shot out from inside until it had grasped the back of your robes and pulled you in. 

You were thrown onto the woven matt floor with barely enough time to break your fall, let alone catch your compilation of medicines. You skidded against the hard surface, ripping the cloth on your shoulder as the fabric folded under you with the motion. Your arms wrapped against your oversized pack, and the glass bottles rattled against one another as you held them close to your chest.

Madara stood over you: hulking, broad, impeding, and crazed, but still as he slowly slid the paper door shut. His palm splayed out in the middle of the door, leaving a streak of crimson across the delicate white material. The air dried the red color into a muddy rust.

An unmoving, pale hand appeared in your peripheral. You scrambled to your knees, grip still clutching your medicinal bag. You hardly recognized Izuna as he lay in front of you.

All color had drained from his cheeks, but you could hardly pay attention to the grayness of his skin in the face of the massive open wound across his stomach. Izuna bled all colors of red, his gash like a gruesome flower clawing out of his torso and streaking across the room. His chest heaved up and down at an inhumanly slow pace, pumping a wheezing sound out of his throat with every strangled breath. Everything smelled of blood, and what used to be an entirely white room was marred with ghastly streaks of gore. 

The doctor worked frantically over him, but even looking at Izuna for a second told you all that you needed to know. His wound was already decorated with herbal remedies, the leaves and ground flower buds a stark, soft contrast to the wet, oozing gash that churned just below. The colors illuminated with an effervescent glow under the light of the doctor’s healing jutsu. 

Izuna’s head fell to the side toward you, your name dripping from his lips in a voice hardly above a whisper. You scrambled to his side, shedding your bag, and scooping his hand up in yours without a thought. 

“Izuna—!” 

Your heart sank into the pits of your stomach, and your face felt numb. Tears flooded your waterline as your pulse started to drum in your ears. One of your hands, now sporting a few streaks of blood that you didn’t notice, came over your mouth in mortified shock.

But even so, Izuna gazed at you fondly. His eyes were lidded, pain written across his face, but he did his best to grasp onto you weakly. You stared widely down at his giant wound, almost hypnotized by the terrible sight of it, before returning to Izuna’s face. Your hand dropped back down to your lap and joined the other in morphing over his palm. 

Your lips parted, but no sound left them. They wavered in the bitter-smelling air as an ugly sound stalled in your throat. You didn’t have it in you to tell him that it all would be okay. He wouldn’t have believed you anyway.

“I do not know what to say…” Your voice came out in a breathless hiss, your lips crinkling upwards as your brows creased together into two wavy lines. 

“I apologize…” Izuna was barely audible, and his words held an incoherent rasp. “The words I spoke to you last were most regretful… and most dishonorable…”

“Izuna, do not speak like this!” Your scolding was less than a whisper.

You looked at the doctor, whose eyes were already on you. Wordlessly, he confirmed your fearful thoughts.

Izuna wasn’t going to—

“How does he appear?” Madara implored. “I demand you tell me. Tell me that you deem him treatable with your remedies!”

Izuna gave your hand a light squeeze. When you looked down at him, two tears fell right onto his blood-stained clothing.

His other hand slowly rose, shaking as he brought it to his face. It stopped, trembling over his neck as Izuna raised his pointer finger. He brought it over his lips. 

The sound of your name boomed across the paper room.

“Why do you fall silent? You are able to revive him, are you not?” Madara thundered frantically. “You told me! You told me of your chakra remedies!” Madara’s hand shot out from behind you but missed your shoulder as his fingers grasped about wildly. You could feel the force of his motion in the air as the slight breeze of his movement rattled the hair behind your ear.

He made another grab for you, and you turned to grasp him by the shoulders as if you were taking a bull by its horns, dropping Izuna’s hand in the process. The metal of Madara’s armor was dirty and solid, pinching your fingers as you tried to keep him at bay as he lunged. He ranted something incoherent, nearly knocking you back into Izuna. Your core tensed, trying to keep yourself from falling back onto Izuna’s open torso as you tried to fight Madara away. 

“Madara, this is madness!” you shouted directly into his face. Your arms were beginning to shake under the weight of him, the locking of your joints being the only thing keeping Madara from pinning you down in his deranged rampage. But the fear and confusion in your gaze immediately widened as you met his gray irises. “Madara! Your eyes!”

“Clan Head, that is enough!” The doctor had since stood, stepping over Izuna’s body to ram into Madara with his shoulder. Your limbs were granted relief as the two of them stumbled back, nearly punching a hole in the paper wall. 

The doctor was not as large of a man as Madara, but he held his own against Madara’s unrestrained rage. His shoulder dug into the right side of Madara’s chest, and the doctor used all his weight to keep him from charging. But he was ultimately not enough to keep Madara restrained. 

Madara shoved him back with a violent push to the doctor’s chest.

“Who are you to cease treatment on my brother?! Who are you to attack your Clan Head— I’ll have you banished for your indiscretion—!”

“Madara, that is enough!” You shot to your feet, placing yourself between the two men. One of your palms splayed across Madara’s chest plate. He continued to scream over your head, gesturing pointedly somewhere behind you. Tears streamed down his face as his skin scrunched up in rage. — “Madara!”

— “You dare to impede me? My younger brother lies dying before my very eyes, and I cannot even see his face! And you dare stand against me when Izuna’s chakra weakens! You are traitors! You are traitors to the Uchiha; I will have you banished and then hunt you down myself— why do you refuse to help my brother? —”

— “Madara, please, I implore you to listen—”

Madara’s hand whipped across your face with enough force to make your ears ring. You fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the power of Madara’s strike making you almost spin as you went down. Your hand shot to your nose, which had begun to bleed. Your blood mixed with Izuna’s.

“Madara, that is enough…” Izuna began to sit up somewhere behind you. He groaned in pain, almost collapsing as he propped himself on one elbow. The doctor was already beside him, urging him to lie back down. But the sound of Izuna’s voice appeared to be enough to sate Madara’s mounting rage. He visibly melted, perking up as he tried to pinpoint where Izuna’s voice came from with a rapid gesture of his head. 

You were lost, hypnotized by the red that dripped from your nose and onto your hand. The droplets were thick and hot, only diluted by the tears of disbelief that seemed to fall in sheets from your eyes. You struggled to gather yourself as Madara knelt by Izuna’s side. 

“We will find a way,” Madara insisted with certainty. He nodded several times, taking up the straps of your medicine pack in his hand. He rooted around in it, searching for powder. “There is an ointment crafted for deep wounds—!”

“It is too late, Madara.” Izuna collapsed back onto his cot. A sharp hiss of pain tore from his throat. Izuna grabbed at his brother’s sleeve, willing him to come closer with his little remaining strength. The hold he had on Madara’s clothes was a death grip. “You must listen to me.”

Madara bowed like a child in prayer, lending his ear to Izuna’s lips. He crouched on his knees, hair cascading over his brother’s pale face as he blindly clung onto any part of Izuna he could reach. Izuna’s voice, perhaps meant only for Madara, faded in and out.

“For the good and future of the clan, you must not fall victim to Hashirama Senju’s trickery… promise me, I…” You could barely hear him. You hovered just behind Madara, sitting with your knees tucked under you and the fabric that made up the skirt of your robes balled in your fists. You tucked your chin to your chest. Hot tears continued to dribble down your face.

Your head spun, unable to listen to Izuna’s words even if you tried. You became lost in yourself, only resurfacing to reality when the sound of your name rang across the room. It was the doctor.

One moment, Izuna was speaking to Madara, and then the next—

“We will be performing an ocular transplant,” the doctor said. “Are you able to assist?” His grave gaze bore into you.

Your mouth gaped. You shook your head in disbelief. You turned toward Madara, who couldn't see you.

“You are taking his eyes?” you asked accusingly. Your tone held a harsh snap. “Are you so obsessed with battle that you dare take the sharingan of your own brother—?”

“Enough.” Izuna’s voice somehow found its way out of his throat. Just barely. His tired eyes met yours. “I forfeit them willingly… for the sake of the clan.” Izuna’s lids fluttered closed, even as you continued to stare. A new wave of tears welled in your vision. You were growing sick of weeping.

“For the sake of the clan…” you repeated, a part of you hoping that if you spoke the words, they would make better sense to you. You didn’t have to yield advanced jutsu to understand the implications of Madara obtaining Izuna’s eyes. With the Senju closing in, you knew there were few other choices.

Madara, the leader of the Uchiha, had exhausted his mangekyo sharingan. Izuna, the second strongest fighter in the clan, was fading quickly as he lay before you. And while the Uchiha had more than formidable soldiers, too many had been defeated in the ambush, and the rest had been injured during their retreat. It was truly up to Madara to protect you now.

Izuna spoke your name again. It would be the final time he would do so.

“I implore you… please, do not deprive me of my final wish,” he said weakly, the frailty of his words a stark contrast to the unfair burden he bestowed upon you. You glanced back toward the doctor. “I need you by my side.”

“I— I just make the medicine, although I— I…” You closed your eyes to shed more tears, but none fell. You tried to blink again, only to find your waterline dry. “I can administer some remedies.”

“The extra set of hands is more than plenty,” the doctor affirmed. “But we must make haste.”

Izuna’s hand found yours. His touch was cold. He gave your hand a weak squeeze.

*** 

It wasn’t enough to hang onto every moment you could. You tried to take him in during every second of the procedure, focusing so hard on being with Izuna for the dwindling amount of time you had left. You could feel the minutes slipping through your fingers. Your eyes searched every inch of him, trying to hang onto the patches of snowy white skin between the dirt and red stains. Izuna was here now, and you pulled a single moment into a thousand.

And when it was done, and Izuna was dead, you sat back on your calves. Madara lay to your left, his face bandaged with wrappings adorned with healing herbs. And Izuna rested to your right.

He had passed just moments before, long before the doctor had left the room. A thin sheet rested over his head, extending down to his blood-stained boots. But even as he lay such a short distance away, all presence of him had been vanquished from the room. The form under the cloth was an object, a thing taking a shape that certainly wasn’t Izuna. 

Your skin was taut from all your weeping. The tears still came in bursts, but the muscles in your face felt fatigued by it all. Any noise from the outside sounded muffled. Even Madara’s heavy breathing didn’t make it to your ears. 

You could see the light from the sun behind the paper walls. You stared blankly at the random swipes and spatters of red that dotted the room, staining the light eggshell color of all the fixtures. 

You lay down between them, letting your body go limp for the first time that morning. Some medics had since taken your bag of extra medication to use outside. The commotion in the village seemed to have dwindled some. You let your eyes fall closed. Exhaustion had grown so great in your head that your lack of energy made you wired. Your thoughts ran across your brain on their own, and you could do little to stop them.

You could sense that Madara was about to speak even before he parted his lips. He breathed in, taking a familiar pause before his voice dared to break through the silence in the room. 

“Your resentment radiates off of you like fire.”

In one of his final acts of life, Izuna had sated Madara’s rage, leaving his brother in this world quiet and pensive. Madara had been eerily silent. 

You let your eyes open lazily. They traced the outline of Izuna’s face beneath the cotton sheet.

“Now is hardly the time, Madara,” you muttered. 

“But it is true.”

You didn’t answer. You shepherded the silence back into the air, hoping that your ignorance of him would be enough. You couldn’t handle his talk in the face of your bubbling and agitated emotions. 

“It is true—"

“Silence, Madara,” you snapped, your words lashing across the silent atmosphere you tried to curate. You held your arms close to your chest, nuzzling your cheek into the side of one of your hands. You curled farther in on yourself, only isolating Madara more. “Izuna just...”

“He is passed,” Madara rumbled solemnly with all the clarity of the world. You cast your gaze to the light just outside the paper doors. It looked warm. “And you believe it should have been me in his place.”

“I said no such thing.” Your face was tired and puffy.

“You would be right.”

“Cease with your grandstanding—” You sat up, propping yourself on your palm as you faced Izuna’s body. You could barely keep yourself from collapsing from the mental exhaustion alone. — “It is inappropriate at a time like this.” You could feel the sting of tears shocking the nerves behind your nose, yet your eyes remained dry. “Why must you make these things so difficult?”

“I am making the death of my own brother difficult?” He sat up somewhere behind you.

“Do not twist my words. Timing has never been your strong suit, Madara.” You also rose to sit up straight, now sitting cross-legged near Izuna’s knees.  

“You believe that I am not in grief?” He held a thundering bite to his words, although even the slightest increase in volume sounded like a storm within the context of the hauntingly quiet room. “Do you believe that I do not feel deep despair over one who I have loved so dearly?” 

“You were not the only one who cherished Izuna!” You snapped around, knees hitting the opposite side of the mat floor. “Of all the times where you must be a fool, Madara! Why must it be now? Why must it have been this past visit to my apothecary? Why must it have been on the battlefield where you could have saved him a hundred times over, and yet you condemn yourself to play the fool!”

You weren’t used to seeing Madara’s face bandaged. He looked like a ghost, sitting upright where he was with his legs outstretched before him. Even blinded, you could almost feel his gaze boring into yours.

When he spoke, his voice was low.

“I am well aware,” he growled, trailing a tense silence in his wake. Madara sat up farther, and it wasn’t until the faint shadow of his large form eclipsed half of your face that you realized how quickly he bridged the gap between the two of you. “I am not blind enough to reflect on my hubris, nor am I blind enough to recognize my own twisted nature in my jealousy.”

You found yourself once again face to face with bandaged eyes, hypnotized by the infinity of cloth strips layered over each other. You took in every fold, watching where blood slowly seeped through the fibers. And perhaps if it had been a more tender moment and if you had loved Madara more, you might have tenderly taken hold of his jaw. But instead, you sat, slowly sobering up to the reality of what just occurred a few moments prior as your face was contorted by a demon of despair. 

Your resolve imploded.

“A mere reflection is hardly recompense,” you hissed, your voice coming out as barely a whisper. “How must it feel to have sacrificed your only living blood and continue to prove yourself so fruitless in your rivalry with Hashirama Senju? You have no excuse for your arrogance!” You steadily grew in volume, suddenly finding yourself standing. “So lost in your fruitless rivalry with him, you have indeed been left blind, with your flesh newly broken and easily swayed heart—no, you do not view clearly enough the hubris in your ways! You are a soft man, Madara!”

The tears came back all at once. You shed them like a waterfall as the wind caught in your throat. You gasped for air, hiccupping and choking all at once as the words tumbled from your lips. 

“Izuna—" You could hardly get his name out between gasps. “He—! Izuna, he thought—!” 

And perhaps if Madara had loved you more, he would have done something other than take the brunt of your broken rambling in silence. To him, that was gesture enough. To you, it was an indulgence in self-pity.

He let you leave, and no one stopped to question you as you quickly pushed through the crowd of people back to the apothecary. Although things seemed to have settled compared to the roaring chaos that captivated the late morning, people still milled around, collecting food and fluttering around the loved ones who were fortunate enough to make it home. 

You needed more time to analyze things. You honed in on the apothecary doors, barreling through them without regard for the medics coming in and out. 

You said little aside from your curt and adamant wish not to be disturbed before retreating into your loft at the far end of the apothecary. You curled in on yourself for what would feel like days, wrapping your cotton sheets around you as you buried yourself further from the world. 

The tears seemed to flow without you completely now, soaking the fabric of your pillow to create a wet circle just below your ear. Your thoughts ran on without you, and your heart ached from what felt like a hole sliced clean through it. The grief rested over you like a blanket, coating you from head to foot in numbing density. You would stay like that for what felt like days, unaware of what was happening outside. 

And the world would turn upside down, disrupting the mundanity you were trying so desperately to cultivate. 

When you weren’t lying in bed, you spent your hours lazily picking at things in your garden. In the rare moments of mustered energy, you would bathe and tend to your hair— more out of a necessity for maintenance than anything else. 

You didn’t even know that Madara had left until he returned. And when he returned to the village, he did not seek you out. Instead, a member of Madara’s council visited you at the apothecary. 

A young man with a severe face around Izuna’s age, he stood with his back erect on the porch behind the apothecary. You sat in your herb garden, absentmindedly fiddling with a particularly large flower blossom as a small collection of random herbs sat in a basket at your hip. He had called out to you in that militant voice that soldiers tended to use. You had hummed in response.

“There is a truce,” he said. “The Uchiha and the Senju have agreed to unite.” 

***

There were so many questions that the village hall overflowed with people. Members of the Uchiha even stood outside, hoping to catch an explanation. 

Madara and what was left of his council sat before the crowd, still adorned in their light wrappings from the Conquering of King’s Neck and the second face-off Madara had apparently had with Hashirama Senju. The room chirped, filling with murmurs and speculation. But when Madara began to speak, all fell silent. 

“The time has come…”

You watched from just barely inside one of the wide doorframes. Madara stared straight ahead, his voice confident, stern, and sure. 

He held himself like a clan head.

“The time has come for wartime to end,” he announced, surveying the gathered crowd. “It is time to put a stop to a violence started long ago, one that has forced our children to pay the price for a conflict started by the fathers of our father’s fathers. For I challenge you to find me a soul in this room that has not been exhausted from war and the act of burial.”

The room remained eerily quiet. You stood on your toes, trying to catch a better view over a man’s shoulder.

“Let me do away with your primary concern; The Uchiha stand on the same ground as the Senju, as equals, and in collaboration with one another. Our combined power has the potential to create a village where all people shall live without fear of violence, and small hands may never know the handle of a kunai nor the weight of the metal. This is a thing that Hashirama and I agree upon, and as the leader of the Senju clan, he has agreed to honor our terms.” 

The room erupted in a low clamor, everyone wanting nothing more than for Madara’s words to be true. They held their questions high, finally breaking their collective silence at the mere mention of Hashirama Senju. 

The sound of his name struck your heart no differently, and before you could even think, you were a distance away from the meeting hall. Your spot by the door had filled in swiftly. You had one place to retreat, one sanctuary, and you hid yourself in the loft.

***

“I need you by my side.”

You thought it was cruel for Madara to use Izuna’s last words in such a way, but you doubted that Madara even remembered his brother’s last words to you. 

The meeting had adjourned late into the night. The people had many questions, at least, that’s what Madara would tell you later. You hadn’t needed him to tell you to believe it.

It startled you when lantern light from the street flooded through the open door of the apothecary. You sat up in your bed, already halfway between wakefulness and mental exhaustion that kept you from falling into a meaningful slumber. Madara always swung the door open wider than he needed, and aside from that, you could place his hulking form anywhere.

He waited wordlessly as you descended from your tower. You did so lazily.

“Are you ill?” you asked at the bottom of your set of steps that wasn’t quite a ladder or a proper set of stairs. “A physician would have an easier time tending to you than I. At the meeting, I do believe I saw—”

Madara pulled you close in an instant. Your sleep-addled mind had little time to process the action as you stumbled over your feet. Your face hit Madara’s chest. He had a strong scent to him, which, while not unpleasant, was as overpowering as the man. 

A sliver of light trickled in from where the door sat ajar. It cast a faint highlight around Madara’s figure. Your tired eyes traced the shadows that the faint glow created on the fabric of his sleeve. 

It felt out of place being in his arms like this. You weren’t used to him not wearing armor. You could feel it in the tension of your muscles and the awkwardness of not knowing how to touch him in return. You let him hold you, and yet, for how none of it felt right, there was an odd, fragile comfort that had never belonged to Madara before. 

Madara, who imposed himself in every space he ever stood and could never be found wearing not even a piece of armor, felt soft. 

“I need you by my side,” he had told you. You felt his cheek against your hair. “I need confidence that I am making the right decision.”

“Madara,” you spoke softly, pulling back to meet his gaze in the dimness. “How do you expect me to give guidance on these things? I am not—”

You stopped yourself right there, feeling foolish in less than an instant. Nothing but the chirp of insects outside disrupted the silence of the apothecary. It felt as if so much of your time with Madara was filled with silence. But Madara’s eyes held no judgment. 

“Izuna watches over us from the heavens, and I have thought little more than the day he passed and the terrible way I behaved toward you,” he said with a slow nod. His voice held the rich timber that it typically had. Madara brought a hand gingerly to the side of your face. His skin was rough and scarred. He spoke lowly, surprising you with more softness. “I would feel confident with you by my side. You need not labor yourself, nor would you have to speak a word… For you just to be would be enough.”

“What do you speak of, Madara?” 

Madara cast his gaze off to the side, his jaw tensing slightly. 

“Perhaps Izuna would think it weak of me to bring a woman to such prestigious negotiations…” He pulled back, taking his warmth with him. Madara turned with one hand on his hip and the other clasped over his face. 

“Of what do you speak?” You nearly choked on air. 

— “But what if said woman was close family? 

When Madara whipped back around, he did so in the middle of a thought he did not bother to share with you. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes flutter closed as you tried to gather your thoughts, and to your dismay, Madara didn’t speak a word in your silence. You stared at him for answers, prompting him to elaborate.

“Izuna should be by my side,” he finally said, perhaps a bit louder than he needed to have been. When he continued, he did so with a lowered tone. “Our parents passed when we were young. Izuna was my one and only brother, and he is now gone… And so, I implore you…”

Madara took in a sharp breath, not daring to speak the rest.

“Is that what we are now?” you asked. “You consider me family?”

A familiar silence once again took hold of the space between you.

“Is a wife not considered family?”

It was only due to a moment of shock that you let the question sit in the air.

You turned on your heel, your hands coming to your face as you shook your head with fatigue.

“Madara, must I remind you how terrible you are with time? —” 

Your name shot from his lips, as did a hand to your shoulder. 

— “Perhaps you should see a physician—”

“You are the closest thing I have!” Madara’s desperate cry halted all words on your tongue. He grabbed you hard enough to leave bruises, forcefully spinning you around as he moved forward, caging you against a nearby counter. His face was so close to yours, and when you looked deep into his eyes, you saw Izuna. 

“You and I have known each other for as long as I can remember,” he said with faintness. “Has it not always been you and I? Have you not always thought it was destiny how we have always been brought together like this?”

You couldn’t say why tears began prickling at your eyes. It felt as if anything could make you cry nowadays. Madara brought a hand back up to your face, skimming the wetness from your cheek. 

“Please—” It was the first time you heard Madara use such a word. — “I can assure you that things will improve, that I shall improve. Be with me by my side. I do not ask you to marry me tomorrow, but perhaps if you may see— perhaps you may come to see things as I see them.”

“You have always been one to set your expectations far too high.”

“Can you deny that we are as close as family? We have only each other.” Madara’s hand traveled down your arm to grasp your fingers in his. “I do not ask for your commitment. I ask only for the openness of your mind.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you breathed out a deep breath. Unconsciously, you leaned into him. Nothing made you feel right now.

“With your track record of anger and empty promises? What have we ever agreed upon?” Your words came out weakly as you met Madara’s gaze in the dimness again.

You wanted so desperately to stop staring into his eyes.

But… Izuna…

“You would have protested such things not too long ago. It all seems quite ridiculous, does it not?” You found yourself laughing, and Madara cracked a smile for the first time in a long while. 

It was thin-lipped and, indeed, did resemble a crack. The wrinkles that ripped across his face made him look young, a lot younger than he had been looking as of late. A small chuckle shook his chest and hardly made a sound in his throat. You let out a light laugh. What you said hasn’t been funny, nor was it meant to be. 

A handful of memories from when you were a teenager sat at the back of your mind, and perhaps if you tried not to think about them, they wouldn’t hold any importance. 

***

That had been a foolish thought in and of itself, and in the days following, you wondered why you had let Madara persuade you. You decided that he had beaten you down with sentiment and nostalgia, knowing that considering any other reason would only disturb what little peace of mind you had. 

It would have been wiser to give it all some thought. It would have been wiser to have turned Madara away in the first place rather than humoring his charged words, and yet, a part of you wanted to move forward. Even on your way to the neutral meeting ground, you wanted to be a part of the new dawn, spurred on by a nagging curiosity and a morbid sense of fate. 

Foolish. Foolish, with little sense to it at all!

You caught a glimpse of white, and you purposefully averted your eyes. Madara stood next to you, sporting his best robes as members of the Senju unfurled two banners to be hung. The amount of Uchiha who came in support of the agreement surprised you. Most of your settlement gathered somewhat behind you, still unsure what to make of the crowd of unarmed Senju directly ahead.

The two groups remained segregated for the most part, standing around awkwardly even as the banners featuring the Uchiha and Senju crests were hung side by side. You glanced to your left toward Madara, feeling the stuffiness and tension yourself. But Madara remained stoic and upright, hardly regarding you even as Hashirama approached.

“Today is a day for celebration! Why must everyone be so serious?”

And from the tales you had been told of Hashirama, he had not been what you expected him to be. He instantly spotted the two of you as he emerged from the crowd. His round, kind eyes seemed to glitter, along with the perfectly white teeth he bared with his smile. 

“Madara! My friend!” Hashirama, an already tall man, held his arms up. He only needed to take a few long strides before he was upon Madara, wrapping him up in a hug great enough to cause Madara to take a half step back. (You almost took a step back with him.) Just as quickly as Hashirama embraced him, he pulled back, planting his hands firmly on Madara’s shoulders. And Madara let him. “It is good to see you!”

Hashirama turned to you and positioned himself directly before you, eyes remaining as wide as his smile. 

“Madara, how could you not send notice that you would be bringing a goddess to smile upon the union of our clans?” He fell quickly into a deep bow as you gaped. You instinctually turned to look at Madara, a girlish grin of your own contorting your lips. Madara rolled his eyes with a knowing sigh. Hashirama returned to his full height. “You may call me Hashirama. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you hummed, offering your name in return. “I hope you do not consider primary names informal as we have just met.”

Hashirama let out a boisterous laugh.

“Are you not all Uchiha as we are all Senju?” Hashirama chuckled, eyes drifting to the crowd of Senju for a moment before he did a double take. “Ah!” He turned back to you and Madara, gesturing to his right. “Speaking of Senju, might I present my brother, Tobirama.”

“Everything is prepared, brother, the people are waiting on you—” 

Tobirama’s gaze latched onto yours like a magnet, causing him to stop short just to Hashirama’s right as his mouth snapped shut instantly. Your jaw dropped, and you quickly clasped your lip closed to not bring attention to your light gasp. You prayed that neither Hashirama nor Madara, who stood between the two of you, noticed your out-of-place surprise. Hashirama seemed to breeze past the micro-interaction entirely as he spoke your name.

“This is my brother, Tobirama. Tobirama, this is…” You didn’t take your eyes off Tobirama’s red irises for a second, lost in the pounding that threatened to burst open your chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from moving. Your foot slid back, positioning you just behind Madara’s shoulder. Your hand tightly grasped the back of his sleeve.

Your movement didn’t escape Hashirama. When you looked back at him, you found his gaze anchored directly to the grip you held on Madara’s arm. You watched as his face seemed to droop, his broad smile wavering for a moment as an expression of what you could only describe as genuine sorrow swept over Hashirama’s face. It was a contortion so sincere that you almost felt bad for how your body reacted. But Hashirama recovered quickly as he faced Madara once again with a friendly smile. 

“... your wife, Madara?” 

You hadn’t realized that Hashirama was still talking. 

You and Madara gazed at each other simultaneously, expecting the other to answer, but instead, you found yourselves engaged in a silent, second-long debate.

“This is, uh,” Madara started, now as thrown off as you were. His forehead twitched as he glanced back toward you instinctually. 

“I am an…” You made the mistake of accidentally making eye contact with Tobirama once again. He stood stoically by Hashirama’s side, quietly awaiting an answer. Your panicked gaze once again darted between Hashirama and Madara, who didn’t appear to be in a rush to come to your aid. — “advisor.” You nodded with pseudo-certainty. “I am an advisor on the Uchiha council.”

Hashirama wasn’t allowed time to comment. 

“Pardon us.” Two members of the Senju tentatively approached your group. Hashirama pivoted a foot to acknowledge them.

“Yes, what is it?”

“All has been prepared for us to begin. We wait only on the two of you.” 

Hashirama turned to spare a half-glance over his shoulder.

“Ah, that is what you were here to notify me of, was it not? Telling me to quit my chatter, eh, Tobirama? Why did you not speak sooner?” Hashirama laughed. “Let us make haste and not leave the people waiting longer than they have already. I am certain that everyone would rather be at the banquet than listen to my dry speech!”

With Hashirama having decided to begin, you retreated to the Uchiha side of the crowd and Tobirama to the Senju.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Hahaha would you believe that I forgot that healing jutsu existed for, perhaps, this entire fic?? I certainly wrote other things with healing jutsu. Hell, I’ve written whole stories centered on it, but this?? WHOOPS.

I thought to myself that I might add another section to this chapter but I saw that 6.8k and went hahahahaha nope!

My grammar checker no longer works on the document that this was originally written on, so I took the chapter and isolated it to do edits... resulting in weird indentation issues. Ah so goes the world...

@gracefulbumblebee��@norasincubi @rahatake

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Edit: I think I’ll drop the next chapter when this one reaches 100 notes.

[writersfantacy]

Playful banter (Tobirama x uchiha reader)

The evening was serene, bathed in hues of blue and red, symbolizing the alliance of the Senju and Uchiha clans, a party organized by Hashirama of course. Tobirama, however, was less enthusiastic about the gathering, especially with the presence of another exasperating Uchiha besides Madara—Y/n Uchiha. Her mere presence was enough to annoy him, yet he couldn't deny the fluttering in his stomach during their heated verbal exchanges.

"Come on, Tobi, don't be like that. It's a union for peace; you can't just stay at home or in the office," Hashirama said with a smile, trying to coax the already grumpy Tobirama to get ready for the party.

"I see no need for my presence; you can handle it alone, brother," Tobirama stated in his firm tone.

"Your presence is necessary. Given your prominent position, it's expected. Or could it be that you're nervous because a certain lady will be there?" Hashirama chuckled at the idea. He would like to see Tobirama stutter in front of his crush, although that's unlikely for Tobirama.

"Shut up, brother. It's not what you think. I have decided not to attend your party, and my decision is final," he said, fixing Hashirama with a stern look.

"Hashi-kun has done a great job," Y/n stated, surveying the surroundings while clad in a simple yet elegant black dress.

"Indeed," Madara said, walking alongside his sister and silently taking in the view.

"Oh, look, there he is," said Y/N, pointing at Hashirama, who was sitting with a group of gamblers, seemingly accompanied by his team.

"And there is his brother, the red-eyed albino," Madara stated, walking towards Hashirama.

As Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju met, they became engrossed in their conversation, sipping wine, and jesting about their siblings. Meanwhile, Tobirama and Y/N, being the responsible ones, refrained from drinking.

Tobirama cleared his throat. "Your brother is a mess," he said, pointing at Madara.

"So is yours" she said pointing at hashirama. Both of them sighed.

"He displays more civility than Madara, just observe him consuming twenty-four glasses of wine in a single attempt."

"At least he isn't gambling like your brother."

"My brother may be foolish, but he unites everyone, unlike the Uchihas who seem to seek conflict frequently."

"Oh, that's such a contradiction. We never fight; it's you Senjus who always carry this unnecessary pride."

"We have achieved things that warrant pride, unlike you who possess an aggressive nature."

"Tobirama Senju, what is your problem? you come here and started arguing with me"

"I am just stating facts"

"They are not facts, you just want to argue. Have I ever told you how much I hate you?"

"Feelings are same, in fact I hate you more, every bit of you"

"Liar," Hashirama interjected, earning a glare from Tobirama.

"Good to know, Because I'll dammed if you liked me"

That genuinely hurt Tobirama; he narrowed his eyes and spoke.

"And why's that?"

"Because you are insufferable, no woman in her right mind could like you."

"Oh? I assure you, no sane man would favor a hysterical woman such as yourself," Tobirama said with a slight smirk.

At this point they were so engrossed in insulting each other that they were unaware of the present distance left between them. They had moved closer with each insult they were throwing at each other.

Frustrated with the accusations of "you are annoying" and "you are this and that," they now stood close, gazing into each other's eyes.

Tobirama surveyed her from head to toe, absorbing the sight before swallowing hard and cursing himself.

"You look infuriatingly beautiful, Uchiha. What on earth are you trying to do to me?" His hand traveled to her shoulder, and he could have sworn he saw her smirk, which only served to frustrate him further.

"Didn't you say that no sane man would ever like me? I knew you weren't sane," she said, grinning.

he leaned close whispering in her ears, sending shiver down her spine. His own heart was beating fast. He doesn't know where all this confidence and insanity came from? How all his deep desires are now taking force. "Don't vex me further, You will only make this difficult for yourself" he said inhaling her scent, it was taking every bit of his self control to not kiss her.

"Why? Don't tell me Tobirama can't control himself," she said, her hand moving to his shoulder and her lips whispering in his ear. She was aware it was a risky game. But she can't help but smirk at his vulnerable state.

"You are asking for it" his hand travelled to her waist.

"Maybe I am, maybe I am not" She said grinning, only adding to his fuel.

"Get away from my sister, you crimson polar bear!" Madara shouted in his drunken state, followed by Hashirama who was trying to hush him. Quickly, both of them moved away from each other, embarrassed by the sudden incident.

[sinnbaddie]

Naruto has a multitude of characters where their writing is heavily based in queerness and queer experiences. From the devotion two characters have for one another to a point where they would trust each other with their lives, to feeling like the other one is the only person who truly to their core understands them and accepts them for who they are despite their flaws and issues they’ve done in the past.

Naruto as a series is so queer in its writing that the writer - whether intentional or not - made the main two characters always run after each other even if one of them fell into darkness, saying he’d shoulder the pain he’s holding just so he can be near him and you’re saying you think… Obito is gay?? The guy who literally lost his mind over a girl??

Edit: I’m talking about canon btw. Hc if you’d like I’ll always support that, but he’s not canonically gay or bi. His character is rooted in his love for a girl and the only reason he saved kk was to have time alone w Rin because he didn’t want him interfering. He’s in love w Rin and only Rin in canon🙇‍♂️

[ddevours]

✦  .   algumas surpresas não são boas ( projeto )

[mysteriouscrimsoneyes]

I’ve been writing (still working on it) a new fanfic involving the founders. HashiSaku, TobiSaku and MadaSaku! It’s called The Possibilities, here’s the link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/47880880 

Check it out and enjoy! 

[retroillustrates]

I'll just do this one panel at the time

I wrote a fic, I was too lazy to commit to drawing the whole story.

[4mastom4]

Hashirama was sick of responsibility, of choice, of himself. Hatred burned through the brain, flowed down the throat like a red-hot iron, choked with tears. Then it accumulated in the stomach, turned inside out, and then, when there was enough bile, poisoned the heart, trembling under the blows of fate.

Hashirama warmed and nurtured the pain in himself, so much so that it took root in him like a tree. Luxuriously spreading branches in the sternum area, wings covered with foliage feathers, razor sharp and heavy as steel. Hashirama won't be able to fly with them, Hashirama will lose a lot of blood with them. The trail will stretch out in a thick strip, smear the feet and back, and then there will be so much of it that it will flood, soften the ground, and the bloody mess will drag the ankles to the bottom.

[pecuniam-amo]

If we talk about the era of the founders, then everyone, as one, claims that the only positive character in this period of time is Senju Hashirama. The Shinobi God who created Konoha is kind and just, not greedy for mercy and forgiveness. In general, yes? But I wouldn't be so sure about the light image of this man.

He's a Shinobi too. In places, it can be cruel, protective. Come on, he killed his best friend when he attempted to hurt his offspring, the village of the hidden leaf.

And I also like to think that at the moment when Uchiha Madara offered to either kill himself or his brother, Hashirama chose suicide not only because of how good he is, but also because, let's be honest, no one would believe a fratricide. If a person is able to destroy a relative for the sake of the idea of peace, for the sake of a crazy friend, then nothing prevents him from killing everyone else who, for one reason or another, does not fit this very idea of peace. Besides, Madara adored his brother and would not be able to understand a man who is capable of ending the life of a sibling with his own hands.

I suggest, for the sake of experiment, to imagine this. So Madara lost Izuna because of Tobirama, so he demands that Hashirama kill him. Okay, Hashirama did it. He killed his brother with his own katana. Hurray! Peace! Isn't it funny for you?

I wrote all this canvas of text so that you would not be mistaken about Senju Hashirama. Yes, he's funny, a pacifist, a family man. He's also a soldier. He is ready to kill if the family is in danger. He can cheat, lie, take advantage of other people. The Shinobi God is a much deeper personality than it seems.

[haridkrish]

These are some of my artworks from 2018 I think. At that I was trying so hard to become a good illustrator.. tried different styles and techniques of art and this is one of them. Eventually I left this style too. Dropping these here coz they ain’t bad. Hope you all like it :) thank you❤️

[agraviane]

˙ . ꒷ 🦋 . 𖦹˙— arma fria; naruto fandom, hashirama e madara　Ι　se acaso inspirar-se, me dê os créditos.

› artes usadas na capa por @.kankuroplease. todos os créditos a/ao artista!

[pink-and-pearls]

Could I have an imagine/a little scenario of Madara, Itachi, Sasuke and Hashirama explaining to his son that his wife is pregnant again and that he'll have a little sibling soon? Thank you, I love your posts! I hope I didn't burden you tho 😅

A/N : Hello! I absolutely adore this idea💞, thank u for requesting : ) Sorry if it took forever hehe😅, enjoy!

s/n = Son's name

Hashirama

Hashirama’s son is just as enthusiastic as him, so when he tells him that he will soon have a sibling he is hugely excited about it. He begins jumping and cheering: "YAY! I'll have a sibling soon!'

“Dad? Your son says excitedly, "Does that mean I'll finally have someone to play with?" Hashirama replies, patting his head, "yes, yes."

Having said that, your son finds it difficult to comprehend why their sibling hasn't yet arrived. "Where are they, Dad? I need to meet them right away!" The young boy protested to which Hashirama laughs at.

At that point, Hashirama must let him know that the process requires time. He patiently and gently explains to his son that the baby is developing inside of his mother and will be born in a few months. Once your son understands, he eagerly anticipates the day he will meet his sibling. Your son frequently comes to you to kiss your stomach and caress your tummy while expressing his wish to embrace the unborn child. He also helps you with household duties, especially any "baby" preparations.

Your husband was by your side the day you went into labour, holding your hand "You're doing well sweetie," He said to you before planting kisses.

Soon after birth, the baby was in his father's arms when your son entered the room. "Come on buddy, come see your sibling!" says your husband.

Hashirama helped his son up so he could see the baby after returning the baby to you. Your son's eyes began to shine with excitement and curiosity.  "I'm an older brother now", he said before smiling.

Hashirama kissed your forehead as he shed a few tears of joy. His family is growing by the day, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Madara

Madara has always desired a large family, so he was thrilled when you told him you were expecting. He was aware that he needed to prepare his son by informing him that there would be a new family member. He sits down with his son to have a brief conversation with him after a training session.

"How did I do, papa?" asked the little boy.

He first said, "You're getting better by day," before adding, "Listen s/n, soon you'll be a brother. " The young boy's eyes widened, "Your mother is carrying a baby."

"Really!?"

“Yes” replied Madara.

Your son was excited to learn that he would soon have a sibling. "You're going to protect them, aren't you s/n? Show them how strong you are? Hm?" asked Madara to his son before grinning.

"I'll train! I will protect them! Yes, I will!", said your son with determination.

Madara then recalls how he had felt as a young child when he became a brother. He recognizes himself in his son's will to defend his sibling. He is aware of how exciting it is to experience this, making him feel some form of nostalgia...

Nevertheless, he is pleased to see his son in such a mood and hopes that he won't experience what he did.

Madara then chuckled and patted his son on the head. "You'll also take care of mama won't you?" Asked Madara.

"Of course!"

"That's my man", encouraged your husband.

Your son took off as soon as he was allowed to visit you the day the baby was born. He was impatient and wanted to meet and see his sibling. Your son said, "Mama, they look so small!"

Happy, you looked at your children interacting for the first time only to see your son admiringly caressing the infant's cheek making you smile.

Madara observed his gathered family, he struggled to contain the overwhelming joy he was experiencing. His heart could have popped out of his chest. He never imagined that he would meet such a wonderful wife as you, and now he is blessed with lovely children.

"This is everything I ever wanted," he thought to himself.

Itachi

Itachi is quite calm and collected when it comes to telling your son you are pregnant. He is really happy that you two have once more come together in the name of love and that a baby will be born as a result.

After a shared meal, he chooses to speak with his son. "S/n, we are blessed to welcome a new addition into this family soon…"

"Your mother is pregnant... you will be a brother."

Your son repeated surprised, "So, I'll be a brother," and Itachi grinned.

Your husband asks, "How does it make you feel?"

"Do you believe that I will make a good brother, dada?" asked the young boy.

Smiling your son is encouraged by Itachi, who continues by assuring him that he will be a wonderful brother. He'll also explain to him how carefully he needs to handle the baby. Itachi observes his son over the months as he constantly asks, "Dada, when are they coming?" waiting not so patiently for the newborn.

Your husband replies, "Soon, s/n soon."

S/n questioned you, "Mama, do you think they'll like me?" with concern. 

"Of course, they will!" you replied.

It's nice to see your son ask so many questions. You feel really fortunate to have such a wonderful life. Itachi, husband who is devoted to you, a son has inherited his father's traits, and a second child is on the way...

Itachi is extremely kind and patient with his children since he deeply loves them. Hope and happiness overflowed into his life when you entered it, and he would never be able to express how grateful he is that you have come into his life. Spending time with your kids is the only thing you really care about in life. You are living the soft life you have always wanted...

Sasuke

Sasuke is probably the one that struggles the most. He is happy to have met someone as gentle and understanding as you. He really fell for you and hard. Never had he thought he was qualified to be a father if he were to be honest with you. Although your dear lover makes effort, he is not certain that he is the best father out there. Sasuke was overwhelmed with emotions when you had your first newborn. He slowly built a bond with his son; he is still unsure of what he is doing, but he keeps trying.

Your husband is happy that you two are having another child, even though he doesn't express it really. He knew he had to tell his kid the news when he found out you were pregnant once again. He wants for his son to be ready.

He simply tells his son: "S/n, your mother is carrying a child."

"Do you understand what it means? You'll have a sibling soon".

Your son is really surprised but also excited. The little boy really has no idea what to do, which you find amusing because, in a way, it represents your husband. It's adorable that he emulates such traits in his own father.

Sasuke still remembers when he was young and how wonderful it was to have a sibling and he wants his son to feel this comfort such fraternal love can bring.

Soon after the baby was delivered, he was holding it and carefully observing intently their features.

“S/n, look. That's your sibling,” said Sasuke.

In all honesty, Sasuke has never imagined such a life, having a wife and kids, he even feels like he doesn’t deserve this or that he isn’t good enough, but when he sees that soft angelic smile of yours and hears his children’s laughs he wouldn’t want this comfort to ever strip away from him...

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Chapter VIII

Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including graphic violence. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

Notes: For those of you who have been saying "wow! I wonder what's going to happen next!"... me too.

Following the last Senju raid, which had nearly decimated the Uchiha village in its entirety, the reconfiguration of the land shifted. The newly appointed clan head, Madara, led your clan up the mountains to higher ground as the Senju more than doubled their already sizeable territory, spreading across the sprawling forests. 

One of many wooded mountains in the range that bisected the Land of Fire, the one that the Uchiha chose to call home was the largest and was appropriately dubbed the “Grandfather Summit,” which boasted three great peaks. The smaller outer two were called the “Guardian Shoulders,” while the peak in the center was simply called the “Crown.” 

You supposed that some ancestors long ago had thought the sizeable structure to be anthropomorphic enough to be a golem or perhaps a god. You could see it, although the shape took on little more than what you thought a child could draw. Madara never believed that the Grandfather Summit looked much like a man at all.

“It is a large pile of stone and nothing more,” he would frown and perhaps cross his arms with a tilt of his head. But his unimpressed notion of the Grandfather Summit didn’t stop him from relocating what was left of his friends and family up the mass of rock following the most destructive blow on the Uchiha tribe in recent history. 

You couldn’t believe that Madara had been able to set his pride aside for such a move. While all the clans in the Land of Fire bordered on nomadic in some way or another, a clan as large as the Uchiha typically opted to stake its claim in a sizeable plot of fertile land. After all, a clan’s ability to keep their territory was a marker of status in and of itself. 

But in the end, Madara moved you away from the patch of forest you had called home for all of your life in pursuit of the Grandfather Summit. You were almost certain the remaining elders were unabashed in sharing their thoughts before they were forced to submit under Madara’s domineering presence. And you knew just as certainly that if the previous clan heads were alive, they would have given him an earful. 

“They are buried so deep, the earth fills their mouths too much for chatter,” Madara would surely say.

He hardly followed rigid tradition, even when it mattered, so you weren’t surprised when protests fell on deaf ears. Madara’s changes were apparent, even from the distance you hid yourself. Only strong young men filled the war room, with no wrinkled brow or shaky joint to be seen. Just like Madara, they were all chosen through combat. 

Madara took his place in the center of the room, stroking his chin gravely as he studied the map. Izuna stood at his side, both wrists folded and resting on the hilt of his sheathed katana. Four stones sat each corner of the table, holding down the corners and pulling the artisanal paper taut as the band of Uchiha warriors took turns gesturing and poking at the depictions drawn below. 

The Uchiha settlement sat between the Crown and the southern shoulder, which offered the most fertile and settleable land. Although despite resting on the lower of the collection of peaks, the southern shoulder still undoubtedly offered the highest ground compared to the land in the surrounding radius. The current positioning of the Uchiha compound was second only to the treacherous northern shoulder and the Crown itself, which reached the clouds in the heavens above. 

It was no wonder the Senju were beginning to close in from the north. 

At least, it made sense to you. You were no military strategist.

“It would be impossible.” One of Madara’s councilmen scoffed. You saw the flippant wave of a hand through the crack between the windowsill and the closed shutters. “Say the Senju manage the northern Guardian. The chances of their warriors taking on the Crown are slim to none in and of itself. There is too much to lose in an attempt to ambush us from the skies.”

“Nay, save such speculative talk, for we are far past speculation.” Another flippant wave. “The Senju have already sunk their claws deep into the northern shoulder. Farther than we could have ever anticipated. Perhaps your words would be true if we had only heard rumors of their traveling north, but it was only a sennight ago that my brother carried a Senju crest back with him from patrols.”

“An ambush from the highest peak of the Grandfather himself?” A third voice scoffed. A shadow teetered back and forth, swiping across your eyes from where you hid, wavering in the candlelight. “What must Hashirama Senju be thinking? He is certainly out of his own head! He thinks himself a god!”

“He thinks himself nothing.” Madara’s voice was low and raspy, churning in his chest like a beastly growl. His nose scrunched to the side, contrasting the nonchalant bob of his brow and shrug of his shoulder. He rested his elbow on his knee, allowing his forehead to rest in the area between his index finger and thumb. Madara took a deep breath, letting another growl-like rumble resound in his chest. “He thinks himself nothing.”

The light from the candles that lit the room flickered, casting shallow shadows across the warriors gathered. They littered the room silently; all turned toward their clan head with watchful eyes.

No one dared speak but Izuna.

He leaned down, bowing at the waist, to speak directly into his brother’s ear. Madara quirked an attentive brow.

The red pattern of your already ignited sharingan swirled in your irises as you watched from your hiding place. Your breathing slowed to steady streams of hot air, and all of your attention focused on Izuna’s lips. 

“It is worth considering that the Senju…” A curtain of hair fell over the side of his face, obscuring your view. He continued to whisper as you tried to track the movements of his mouth from behind strands of hair. 

A chill came over you. Goosebumps began to pop up across your skin. A shiver worked its way down your body in a wave, starting from your shoulders and ending at your thighs. It was only then that you met Madara’s eye.

He peered directly at you, straight through the tiny slit between where the window and the shudders were supposed to meet. Your breath hitched in your throat, everything around you slowing as you felt the hairs on your arms rise. 

And with the slightest breeze, you were whisked away like smoke in the cool summer air. 

***

The meeting didn’t adjourn until late into the night, and it was only when the candles were snuffed out that the soldiers began to head home. The moon shone brightly overhead, appearing more prominent in the sky than it had during any of the previous seasons. Even without lanterns, the entire Uchiha compound remained well-lit. Madara and his forces trickled out of the meeting building’s doors, exchanging formal nods with each other as they set off onto the moonlit paths. 

Madara paused before the wooden steps, eyes focused on the trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. Izuna stood on the porch behind him, silently following his brother’s gaze from the trees back to Madara. 

He lingered on the Uchiha clan head for a moment before making his way down the steps. Izuna approached him with certainty, placing a firm hand on Madara’s shoulder. Only through touch did Madara snap out of his trance, blinking a few times as he tried to conceal his acute surprise. Izuna returned his hand to his other in their usual resting place at the hilt of his katana, offering his brother a knowing nod.

Madara wordlessly understood, making his way down the dark path toward home. 

Izuna loitered in the middle of the dirt road. His shoulders relaxed under his robes, and his hands never once left their slack position across his weapon as he watched Madara disappear farther and farther into the distance. 

Only when Madara disappeared over the small dirt hill in the distance did Izuna set his sights on the trees. He peered at the spot where Madara had been fixated on, slowly pivoting himself in the earth to face the patch of dark forest. 

“Reveal yourself,” he commanded. His gentle voice carried a great sternness. 

He stood patiently in the open, ever so sure of himself and not in need to prove it.

You respected a man’s ability to manage his seriousness devoid of aggression. That was likely why you obeyed him, moving out of the shadows to step into the moonlit patch of road not too far of a distance in front of him. 

If it were up to you, Izuna would be clan head.

Not that you had any power to make those decisions in the first place. 

Izuna eyed you with mild incredulousness. You expected no less from him.

“I told you to reveal yourself,” he repeated, voice ever-neutral. You sighed softly, bowing your head as the double before Izuna melted into the atmosphere. Your true body emerged from behind a nearby tree a distance away. Izuna continued to eye you wordlessly.

“I deemed it worth an attempt,” you said, clearing your throat. Izuna didn’t humor you.

“You forget yourself.” 

Quiet overtook the night once again. You dared to venture farther from your hiding spot, stepping through the grass toward the ever-still Izuna. Your limbs protested, your instincts locking your joints like those of a wooden doll. You stopped at the edge of the path, protected by the shallow shadows of the trees and feet still planted in the line of the forest. 

You could see the tension build in his neck. Having already been lost in thought with the Senju affairs, you were sure your woman’s trick hadn’t been the most well-thought-out plan in the face of Izuna’s clear vexation. Quite a few Uchiha women were known to unlock their ocular abilities, but unlike their male counterparts who were expected to partake in battle, the Uchiha women’s sharingan techniques were almost entirely passive. 

Most of them centered on making illusions, for an image of a beautiful, vulnerable woman alone in the woods may distract enemy warriors long enough for a mother to escape with her children. The mother often taught these techniques to the young in her home for similar survival reasons. 

You waited for Izuna to speak again. It was best to wait, as unlike Madara’s explosive, violent fits of predictable rage, Izuna kept his rage artfully, dangerously restrained. Like storm clouds slowly rolling in to cover the sky above, you knew that Izuna’s thunder could crack at any moment.

“I will have no more of your nonsense, and neither will Madara,” Izuna harshly proclaimed. He slowly turned away from you, hands never moving from where they sat on the hilt of his swords. The skin of his nose crinkled a bit as if he were holding back a bitter snarl. “You know not what you involve yourself with. A woman knows nothing of the matters of men, nor should she be as involved as my brother has allowed you to be. If I were clan head, an apprentice would have replaced you as apothecary long ago.” 

You stared at him as he tried to fight off the bitter look that threatened to contort his face. The redness of your sharingan had long extinguished, but you hardly needed the enhancement to study the man before you. 

“There is none more knowledgeable at the present. Makihara was… Makihara was far too liberal in his ideologies. And with the war effort, we cannot afford a lesser medicine maker.” His stoic exterior faltered for a moment with a dip of his lip. Izuna gazed somewhere in the distance, lost in an anger caused by something greater than you. “But above all, Madara wishes not to take more from you than has already been stripped of you by the Senju.”

Izuna drew his attention from the ground to the moonlit sky overhead. A full moon peaked from behind the thin clouds, illuminating the road in a silver sheen. He pivoted a foot as he regarded you, the cracks in his exterior beginning to sink back into his cold exterior. 

“Then, it is not in your control,” The gentle evening breeze carried your level voice. It was soft and undaunted, like an Uchiha woman should be. “Nor is it in mine.”

“Why do you stay?” he asked in an even tone. “I ask myself why you forget yourself so, and why has fate encouraged you?” Izuna gazed up once again at the sky. 

You stood in the darkness, shrouded by the forest.

Izuna stood elevated in the light, blanketed by the glow of the night. 

“An Uchiha, yes,” he continued coldly as if the words he recited were nothing less than factual. “But you boast no living blood. You, a woman— you have no interest in the value of tradition. Instead, you busy yourself with matters that do not concern you.” Izuna’s gaze sharpened but didn’t narrow. “Your heart is easily swayed. Your flesh is soft and bleeds when it is struck. You consider not what is done on your behalf; I implore you to consider it.” 

Izuna’s sword drew from his hip in a flash, and the tip of his katana drove into the ground. The polished metal sunk a few inches before stopping.

He finally breathed. He hadn’t realized that he had begun to heave or that his sword had been pulled from its sheath. Izuna stared at the hilt for a moment; hand still gripped around the woven handle. 

“I advise you to retreat from this place,” he muttered, heaving another deep breath as he removed his weapon and slid it back into its usual place by his hip. Izuna turned once more, squaring his shoulders back as if the mere act of speaking to you angered him to the core. His robes snapped with the motion, flowing in the air as he stormed off, ever-militant. “Our world as we know it thrives on deception, and you are no different. Retreat before your illusion fades like the fog before a flame.”

He stalked off down the path, leaving you where you stood in the darkness. Your form remained shaken but undaunted. 

***

The Uchiha’s most formidable forces were venturing off to defend the northern shoulder. It was the talk of the village from as early as daybreak, and the entire compound bustled with life as everyone made preparations. 

The journey that the warriors were to be making was most perilous. Due to the incline, there was no better way to reach the northern shoulder than to pass around the Crown summit. If Madara were to lead them upward, the warrior party would encounter a few narrow routes that led directly north. If only a few warriors were leaving, the journey might have only taken about a day or so, but with a battalion the size that Madara selected, you anticipated that it would take them a few days to reach the northern shoulder.

Women carried back firewood and prepared provisions. Children ran across the village, delivering messages and small amounts of raw materials. Metal on metal sounded from the forge. The ovens churned the scent of bread products into the air. And just shy of the center of town sat your apothecary.

You propped the door with a large rock and tied the shudders open that morning. Warm natural light trickled into the main chamber, where you stood, slaving over a mortar and pestle at the counter. 

The apothecary didn’t appear too dissimilar to your old workspace. Made of mostly wood, it stood on giant tree trunk supports. Five wooden stairs led up to the entrance, and a small patio housed a few pots of herbs. 

Large cabinets lined the walls, reaching about hip height with sturdy shelving just above to house a tall arrangement of medicinal goods. A half counter bisected the room, separating the entrance lined with goods from the back of the building, which flared out a short distance on either side. Heavier jars and handling tools were stored in this section farther into the apothecary, leaving room on the extended countertops for you to use as a workspace.

In the very back stood a winding wooden staircase. At the top sat a loft with a small library, and at the bottom was a door out the back into the small plot of land you called your medicinal garden. 

Madara’s warpath kept your counters as messy as ever. To your left, you kept trays of various herbs and mixtures laid out, ready for the adolescent soldiers to pack into bags to put into field kits. 

“You should be able to administer the wound ointment.” You frowned, stopping your work to hold up the two halves of your concoction. “First, you are to place the powder—”

“I am aware of the ways in which to administer medicine,” Madara groaned, letting his head tilt back. He rolled it from shoulder to shoulder, gazing off toward the ceiling as if that would make you stop talking. “I have not the time to learn your convoluted experiment. Where are the items I requested from you? Izuna should have notified you.”

Madara leaned over your counter, and you met his gaze. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he was bored, but the mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable. With you behind the counter and Madara imposing himself onto your workspace, it was almost as if you were sixteen again. 

“Some things never change,” you sighed. You turned to grab a small bowl from an eye-level shelf and placed it down on the counter with a huff. Madara caught your eye again, but despite the glimmer of curiosity that continued to swim in his dark irises, you knew better than to test him like you would have just a few years prior. “I insist that we try the deep-wound treatment first. The fibrous characteristics of the vallestinia, in combination with some moisture and the accelerant-type factors of the lamortens grand, can quite plainly sew tissue together with chakra in a matter of moments—”

“Unnecessary.” Madara placed his entire hand into the bowl, scooping up a palmful of pills. He let them slip through his fingers, falling back into the pile as he considered them. “The Senju will not allow us any time to spare to make use of lengthy healing processes.”

“But you wanted me to create these,” you posed, holding your tongue from making more than an implied criticism. 

The last of the pills fell back into the bowl. Madara stared at the small compilation.

“I do not doubt that Hashirama Senju will be present on the northern shoulder,” Madara drawled, pausing between phrases. “The surrounding clans grow weary of battle, and I must admit that I have grown… tired of the state of affairs.”

“You?” you hummed an amused laugh behind tight lips. “The grand Madara fatigued of battle?” 

“Fatigued from the act of burial,” he swiftly corrected. The corners of his lips twitched upward for only a moment. “Fatigued from my home being disturbed.” His words drifted off into a growl, a soft, bored rumbling in his chest. Madara often let his voice stall in his throat, the noises turning over as they churned into a low rumble. 

“This is why I implore you to bring my latest ointment. There are but a few of them—”

“The Senju do not climb upon the Grandfather Summit to entertain prisoners. Should a warrior of the Uchiha sustain a fatal blow, he should take it upon himself to give his life in a suicide attack. It should be an honor for the final act of a soldier to be making his enemy pay.” He rose to his full height from his leaning position, glancing from the trays of herbs to the pile of pills on the counter. “Are these all you have crafted?”

“There are several more jars in storage. The herbs consist of a standard selection for minor wounds… for the journey home, of course.”

“Very good.” Madara nodded, not sparing you a second glance as he exited.

You wouldn’t see him again until the battalion departed. After a few short days of preparation, the gathering of some of Uchiha’s best warriors and other volunteers left before daybreak. You watched them go from the porch of your apothecary. Madara led them out of the compound, donning his infamous red battle armor and gunbai. Izuna followed close next to his brother. He didn’t look back at you either. 

There was much fanfare, but it was soon over, and the Uchiha compound was left in peaceful stillness.

You busied yourself with foraging in the woods near the compound, enjoying the time you were left undisturbed. The doors and windows to your apothecary remained open so you could enjoy the cool summer air. Despite the sun, which shone brightly overhead, the temperature remained comfortable.

Something about the stillness didn’t feel right.

***

The Uchiha never made it to the northern shoulder.

The Senju made their approach toward the Crown, and both clans clashed on the rocky terrain that plateaued between the two summits as you tended to your garden at home. Madara and Hashirama engaged in combat, as they had for years, clearing out a massive section of the battlefield for their duel. The blistering heat from the sun beat down on the unforgiving field, leaving little but hot stone and wilted grass. 

Not a far distance away, Tobirama’s sword clashed with Izuna’s. Their weapons crossed, shaking with the sheer force of their strikes as the two came face to face. Izuna flashed his sharingan, the deadly crimson pattern swirling to life in the heat of battle. Tobirama quickly closed his eyes, and Izuna used the opportunity to strike.

Tobirama tumbled back, slamming his back against a nearby boulder. A strangled noise tore from his throat at the impact. He wasted little time readying his hand signs, completing his jutsu before his eyes reopened in time to counter Izuna’s great fireball jutsu. 

Steam filled the battlefield.

Not one to underestimate his life-long rival, Izuna held the reds of his irises at the ready, scanning the rock for signs of movement. Kunai flew toward him from the front. He hummed to himself, unamused at the feeble attempt. 

And for a moment, he considered himself blessed to have been blessed with the sharingan eye.

“Flying Raijin Slice!”

At home, one of your flower pots fell from the railing on the apothecary patio. The sound of shattering clay startled a flock of crows, which flew overhead from a gathering of nearby trees. You stood just at the top of the wooden steps, staring down at the pile of shards, dirt, and upheaved roots. 

You could feel it.

Something was terribly wrong.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: The last chapter, this one, and perhaps part of the next are a bit Uchiha-centric in order to set up for what I have planned. You know, I didn't even intend for Madara to have this much of an impact on the story nor did I even consider writing any Izuna, but here we are... I knew I had to kill him before I posted this.

Sorry for keeping everyone waiting. It's been really cool seeing the Foul Creature notifications roll in all the time. Especially when it's someone starting from Chapter 1. Always feel free to chat; I know my posts are few and far between.

@gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

[writersfantacy]

Tobirama Senju Fluff

Imagining Tobi as an Uchiha's significant other is quite the scenario. He might tease their partner's clan in jest—or so it seems, though his insults aimed at Madara are delivered with earnest seriousness.

He would only reveal his gentle side to you. It would take him a considerable amount of time, and by that, I mean a very long time, to become accustomed to your presence. He had grown accustomed to solitude since the time of war. Hashirama was a good brother, yet he often spent time with Madara. While Hashirama found companionship, Tobi remained alone. So he can't get accustomed to your approaches. Being an Uchiha, he's inclined to doubt your intentions. He simply can't understand why you, a beautiful, young, and cheerful woman, would be interested in someone as grumpy and serious as him.

His emotions are in turmoil. He's struggling to decide whether his feelings are mere attraction or genuine love. Having never fallen in love before, the thought of being in love with an Uchiha feels almost overwhelming. Whenever he sees you speaking with another man, his heart aches, but he can't pinpoint the reason. Whenever you undertake a risky mission, he becomes worried about you, yet he can't explain why.

Hashirama has noticed his younger brother's behavior and often teases Tobirama about his crush, finding it humorous and entertaining. Hashirama attempts to assist Tobirama by encouraging him to converse with you. Occasionally, he might even broach topics like marriage just to see the reaction from both of you.

Upon hearing that Madara was seeking a potential mate for you, he implored Hashirama to intervene. Unwilling to watch you marry another without making an attempt, Hashirama advised him to speak with you directly. But how should he explain it to you? How should he ask for your marriage? What if you reject him? These thoughts would occupy his mind. He would never reveal his nervousness, as his ego is substantial. However, his nights would be restless, consumed with thoughts about the outcome.. He often imagines you in his dream ;)

Eventually, he will muster the courage to invite you for a simple walk. Strolling beside you near your cherished place, chatting about the things you love, attentively listening as you speak of some matters that doesn't make any sense, and gazing at you with eyes full of longing. He would notice you struggling with your hair falling in front of your eyes and would assist by gently tucking those strands behind your ears, all the while maintaining eye contact. This is the ideal moment to propose; he leans in closer, resting his head against yours.

"Y/n...I think I am falling in love with you" he would say sincerely, his voice holding a type of vulnerability you have never seen before. He would wait for your response. If you said yes he would kiss you deeply.