#izuna x hashirama

[belit0]

2000 Word Commission (TobiIzu, HashiIzu, MadaIzu) for Anon

Izuna in heat and the other three founders, Hashirama Tobirama and Madara all fucking him and wanting to breed him I don’t mind or care if it’s in a foursome/group sex scenario or if it’s one at a time.

In the end. it is almost 4000 thousand words, got a little carried away, so enjoy!🤗💕💫

KO-FI COMMISSIONS

Unfortunately, it is time to choose.

Izuna comes out of his meeting with the clan elders feeling dizzy, pressured, and about to start his heat, isn't this the best combination in the world? He knows he doesn't have much time left, nor are his family's expectations wrong.

Being at the perfect age, the Uchiha council believes it is time for their elite Omega to become pregnant, capitalizing on the best condition his body will ever be in to produce a flawless potential heir.

Being second in command brings both respect and demands, and he is aware of having ignored his seniors' pleas for at least a couple of years now. If his father were alive he would have forced him to marry long ago, and he considers himself fortunate to have had enough time to grow up, develop, know what he wants in life before embarking on that journey.

Aniki never forced him to choose, never would, but Izuna is no stranger to the role he must play. Should Madara be unable to produce a fit inheritor, the offspring of the second Uchiha in charge would be the ideal ones for taking care of the clan.

Three possible candidates were the ones named by the elders, Alphas he himself considered from the very moment he made his determination. Two of them would bring incomparable genes to the mix, sacred and legendary unions never before imagined before reaching peace, and the third would perpetuate the Uchiha blood for eternity, keeping the lineage pure and unaltered.

What to do?

He brings a hand to his forehead as he shuffles his feet through the corridors of the main house, feeling the temperature flush through his body. It won't be long before his instincts hit him with natural forces, and he must act fast.

Struggling for coherence and evaluating certain factors, he decides to undertake a torturous walk full of curious stares to the Hokage's tower, his first stop of the day. Climbing the stairs has never been so difficult, and he struggles to forcibly suppress his scent. Keeping his glands from releasing that sweet perfume consumes nearly all of his concentration, and he fails to notice himself colliding against a toned chest on his way up.

"Izuna! Wonderful to see you! Wow... Are you okay?" The Hokage's face quickly transmutes from a beaming smile to a worried countenance, holding the Uchiha by his forearms and bending his knees to stand face to face, assessing him closely. "You're burning up... oh darling, you should be in bed!" the Senju exclaims with concern, taking him in his arms unquestioningly and leading him into his personal office.

He closes the door and locks it behind him, carrying the stricken Izuna to a couch next to his desk. The coffee table in front of it looks cluttered with money and betting boards, but at this moment nothing could matter less to him.

Izuna knows what he must do.

Saying absolutely nothing, he stops fighting his natural instincts, easily releasing his blocked glands and feeling immediate relief at the violent passage of perfume in the room. As his body relaxes from the lack of suppression, next to him, Hashirama stiffens.

He watches carefully how his pupils dilate, how his complexion changes again in a guttural transformation, and how his posture becomes predisposed to attack. A triggered Alpha is a difficult force to stop, even more so when the one who provokes it is a fertile and in-heat Omega.

The fight the Senju exerts against his wild side is visible, and it can be assumed there is a pitched war in his brain as he tries to restrain himself. Managing impulses, for the dominant race, is simply impossible, and only those great warriors can reason with the beast living inside them.

The Senju doesn't stand a chance when Izuna boosts his scent, an intoxicating sweet and addictive fragrance acting as an aphrodisiac for any functional Alpha. It was Madara who confessed to him the terrible effect his perfume has, one of the many times his heat came unannounced during a training session with him, giving him knowledge of a lethal weapon.

Lethal in both senses, for being under a horny Alpha is highly dangerous if one does not intend to end up impregnated by the encounter. Fortunately, that is what Izuna is all about.

He runs a little secret competition, where the three participants will give the best of themselves as called by their natural, and the winner of his womb will be decided by destiny.

Hashirama is on him in less than a second, sniffing like a hungry wolf at his neck and bringing out sharp claws which act with more finesse than one would anticipate. "You smell so good, such a delicious fragrance, how am I supposed to resist the call of an Omega as beautiful as you?" the man seems to be talking to himself, totally possessed by his wild side and ignoring any kind of coherence.

He turns him over with simple movements, exposing him on his knees sooner than he estimated. The Uchiha does not fail to permeate the air with his perfume, counting on that marvelous drug to help the Senju with what he must do. The sexual tension between the two was always measurable, but one could say that about any Alpha interacting with Izuna, a flirtatious personality from birth.

He knows this Alpha desires him, he can feel his eyes scanning his form when he thinks he's not paying attention, he can read his gaze smoothly when they casually talk, he can almost hear his wild side screaming for him to fuck him right there without further ado.

He knows he is the most appropriate Omega in many ways for anyone important, and he intends to use this asset to his advantage.

His pants disappear with a tug, reduced to his bent knees, and the Senju lays him down with a gentleness unbecoming for the situation on the couch, chest against the cushions and fully presented in front of him.

"Look at this pretty hole, how dare you be so charming, little Omega?" His words make him tremble with both excitement and anger, his ass responding to every stimulation the Senju's voice offers, desperate for the dominant's validation but frustrated to bask in it, all at the same time.

"Please fuck me!" He exclaims in a mixture of need and anxiety, his body demanding that sense of completeness, his purpose being fulfilled. It takes nothing more than his aroma and pleading to set the Alpha off.

Hashirama thrusts into him slowly, using every inch of natural lubrication his hole provides and gutturally grunting at the stimulation. When the Uchiha thinks he will start to move, he grabs him with both hands by the chest and settles him on top, leaning back against the opposite end of the couch and resting on his back.

Izuna's pants remain pulled across his chest from side to side, now sagging down to his ankles and locked by his sandals. ""Ride me, pretty one." He intones in a voice both deep and soft, and that compliment sends ripples throughout his body. He follows his commands to perfection, his primal part desperate to please the Alpha beneath him, bouncing over his waist with need.

"Such a good boy, look how well you take my cock, you deserve to get properly stuffed, don't you?" His massive hands hold his hips, long claws avoiding digging into his skin and guiding him gently. Izuna assumed the Hokage would be the worst of the three, too much power inside him to be able to fight his Alpha, yet there is restraint and calm in his actions, both despairing and arousing at the same time.

"Want to be my gorgeous breeding toy?" he asks rhetorically, his hands guiding him up and down faster. There is too much stimulation, and he feels his whole body burning with pleasure and hunger, eager to be filled to the brim and satisfy the Alpha beneath his legs. "Please, yes!" he cries out between moans and heaving breaths, stroking himself off as he surrenders total control of his rhythm to Hashirama.

The Senju soon takes control, using him at will and demand just as a hole to squeeze out all the contents of his cock, holding him tighter and tighter and moving him with lust. He holds on longer than the Uchiha would have thought, estimating how a triggered Alpha can't resist the need to impregnate, to breed, but after a few good minutes of fucking he can feel that famous knot forming inside him.

A ball that grows and grows at the base of his dick, harder and harder to get inside, struggling to stay locked within his channel, making sure all his seed is buried in his belly. The Senju grunts with abandon as Izuna feels that hot liquid melt in his passage, caressing his natural desire to be full, well bred. They both finish simultaneously, and it could appear as a picturesque image ignoring the obscenity of the facts.

A good length of time elapses until his knot deflates, precious minutes Izuna uses to recompose his mind and use the brief relief allowing coherence to decide his next steps.

He disengages from the Alpha before the latter can react, knocked out by the ferocity and power of his windup, and it's the perfect time frame to fix his clothes and clench his legs, walking swiftly and carefully to his next target.

Suppressing his natural perfume again, he uses the dominant scent permeating his entire being to avoid attracting greedy eyes, disguising his heat under the scent of an unleashed Alpha to make anyone else dare not look at him.

The location of his target is a bit further away, but he manages to get there relatively quickly, using his last moments of pure lucidity before the urgency of his horniness strikes again.

He has one hand on his butt, exerting pressure, trying to keep the contents inside safe, giving the first competitor a fair chance.

The second one appears at the door of his laboratory, having detected an intruder in the guarded perimeters of the place. Izuna knows every one of his traps and protections, having taken the insufferable time to study them just to annoy him. Every time Tobirama decided to change one to throw him off, the Uchiha had already memorized the procedure to use for disabling them.

With experienced precision, he smoothly walks down the path, while the albino waits for him with crossed arms and an annoyed look on his face as usual. He wastes no time, releasing his overpowering scent and trying to win him over the same way he did with his older brother, but the Alpha aroma he carries along works against him.

" Why are you walking like a constipated duck and what is this odd combination of scents you're sporting, Uchiha?" the Hokage's brother asks disdainfully, as if the answer was of no interest to him but needing to know at the same time. He uncrosses his arms when having him inches away, and is surprised to identify the smell permeating over him as Hashirama's.

"I just fucked your brother so good I probably got myself pregnant." He confesses with a self-satisfied smile on his face, knowing that to win Tobirama over he has to appeal to his frustration, to his anger. Years of fights and confrontations provided precious information about his eternal rival, iconic ways to get to his nerves and get what he wants from him.

"Shut the fuck up." A hand reaches to close the building's door, but Izuna shoots his scent so potently that the blend between the two fragrances becomes unmistakable. He observes as the Senju sniffs the air, just like his brother, but there is confusion, indignation on his face. " Now, wait, you seriously did that?"

"Of course I did. He fucked me for hours and stuffed me full, I'm probably carrying his pup as we speak." The Uchiha enters the lab uninvited, slamming his elbow against the albino's chest and moving him out of the way. He rests his hip against one of his work tables, and turns around to look at him with satisfaction "doesn't his scent on me tell you anything? Come on, I know you're stupid but that much?"

The provocation seems to hit the right spot, perfect calculation of which buttons to push and how to generate the expected reaction. The Omega continues to release his fragrance, so intense and pure it begins to gain space in the room. Soon, the entire study area is permeated with the mingled scents, and Izuna laughs as the Senju covers his nose and growls angrily.

"Come on, Tobi, man up... what's wrong? Your brother beat you to the punch? Can't taste it because he got first? I thought the Senju clan boasted of love and closeness, maybe you're all a bunch of liars and-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" the Alpha lunges at him, right where the Uchiha needs him, and when he has him clutching his tunic with both hands and about to unleash a fist all over his face, he hits him with a surge of sweetness and spice, pheromones doing their thing to tempt the predator in front of his eyes.

It all happens with violence and passion, a mixture of roughness and excitement typical of the dynamic the two have always carried forward. The albino turns him over on his desk, making him rest his chest on the cold metal and pulling down his pants without warning. His touches are a perfect blend of sadism and need, bare claws tearing through the skin of his buttocks, opening his hole wide for a sudden penetration.

Tobirama never had great power over his Alpha, too disconnected from his feelings to restrain or reason with it, and that's exactly what Izuna appeals to. Unconsciousness, pure desire, primitive needs being satisfied amidst violence and heat. His former enemy thrusts into him without a drop of affection in between, grabbing his hips and piercing his skin with his claws.

Blood trickles down the side of his legs, but the Uchiha hisses in equal parts arousal and pain. It is the savagery with which the Senju fucks him the same one he fantasized about over and over again on the battlefield, when his anti-Alpha defenses were not yet well assembled and the dominants were able to get to him much more easily.

The number of times he imagined himself under this man, being fucked mercilessly and without hesitation, yet today his fantasy becomes reality and is even better than in his head.

" Fucking Omega, you sure need someone to put you in your place, to show you how you're just a pathetic hole for me to stuff." Words come out between grunts and strains, and despite how shattered his mind is under the Alpha's terrible onslaught on him, Izuna is amazed at how this one managed to formulate a complete sentence.

Maybe he doesn't lose as much control as he expected, maybe Tobirama is just like that.

"Dirty boy, you come crawling all the way here in heat, begging me to fuck you, disgusting." The degradation of his speech travels right down to between his legs, but as he reaches to jerk himself off in the small space between his body and the table, Tobirama takes both of his hands and positions them on his back.

He pulls his arms into an awkward position, forcing them still in an unnatural angle without being able to touch himself. The burning in his hole and the sharp pain in his extremities provide a new wave of arousal he didn't think he was capable of feeling, his own cock throbbing with the need to be stroked.

"Fuck!" he hisses into the air, more to himself than to the one working his rear, his words earning him a harder tug on his hands. He swears his arms are about to give under the pressure as he feels the now familiar sensation of that knot forming, and he knows there isn't much left.

"Yes, I'll fuck you, surrendering to my cock like a needy whore. How little respect you have for yourself to come pleading for me to breed you, hm?" The grunting and aggression goes on and on, but what he didn't expect was to feel the Senju's fangs on the back of his neck as he finishes. He pulls his ponytail out of the way, and both canines dig into his skin, tearing it again and creating a sharp point of pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

It is not a bonding mark, but one used by dominants to keep a stressed Omega calm, to relax the prey's muscles beneath their teeth, leave them soft and pliable to their liking. Izuna always considered having that point of weakness available was an abuse of nature, but the combination of his belly being filled for the second time plus the sudden quietness throughout his body knocks him out.

Everything goes black around him, and the ache in his arms and skin disappears completely. The only thing he hears before he loses consciousness is another insult from Tobirama, and a huge knot locked inside him.

His body falls apart on the workbench, muscles flabby and mind dull, completely devoted to the trust he has in his former enemy.

...

Izuna wakes up in his bed, in the safety of his home, and for a moment he believes his whole journey was a dream. That thought disappears when he tries to sit up and receives a huge call of agony on his backside, looking at his wrists and noticing claw marks all over his skin. What happened is as real as everything inside him, and a sense of anxiety and reassurance washes over him once realizing there is only one competitor left.

He lets his hair down to hide the mark Tobirama probably left there, trying to decipher if it was him who brought him here or if his older brother had found him in his lab. It wouldn't make sense, of course, since Madara went into council with the elders as soon as he left that room in the morning.

He makes an effort to get up, and as he approaches the window of the bedroom, he estimates it is probably the middle of the night. There is no news of the Senju brothers' chakra around, and he is tacitly grateful for the time he will have available to finish his mission.

"Are you going to sleep already?" That wonderfully deep voice booms against the four walls of his chamber, Madara watching him with an adorable smile as he turns around. He runs into his older brother's arms, making sure to release the scent that tells of his unrestrained state.

His Aniki knows him so well he was probably aware of his heat before he did, but the younger Uchiha intends to make sure this one understands what he needs. The elders must have had the same talk with him this morning, the same words of demand they gave Izuna, this time directed at the clan leader.

Requiring purity to be maintained in the lineage.

"You were with the Senju brothers, I see." He comments with little grace in his voice, and kisses his crown before turning his attention to his hands. "What happened here?" his tone changes, sternness in the conjugation of his words, hardness in his eyes as if scolding him.

"Training with Tobirama, you know how he gets about proving superiority." He tries to wrench his hands from his brother's grip, to pretend, but he is too observant to fall for his games. He carries him over to the bed and sits him on the mattress before leaving to fetch gauze and cleaning supplies, intending to disinfect his wounds and dress them.

Madara makes gentle work of the injured areas on his skin, delicately caressing each injury so as not to produce more pain in them. He takes his time with each one, and it is Izuna who reveals the cuts on his waist for him to treat those too.

There are doubts on his countenance when he gives the location of the attack, the symmetry of the cuts, how they are located on both sides of his hip, but the younger Uchiha quickly silences them with a smile, inviting him to sit next to him on the bed.

The clan leader wraps his arms around his brother's body, and generates a cloud of his own scent to envelop the younger Uchiha in it, silently imbuing him with his fragrance as Izuna hides in his neck, cocooned by his arms and his care.

It is the comfort of the environment and how safe he feels in Madara's presence that make him completely relax, the symptoms of his heat returning with full force as he detects a strong and capable Alpha, trustworthy, reliable. His every caress on his back makes him purr, and his natural instincts are completely revealed in front of the only dominant he can count on for absolutely everything.

Some people would think it unnatural for the Omega and the main Alpha of the family to bond with each other, but for Izuna it would be an entirely natural process beyond blood and purity, giving himself in soul and life to the one person who went through the same adversities as him, the one presence who never abandoned him, who stood by his side even in the most difficult of times.

Producing an heir for Madara would be the greatest act of love he could give him, appreciation for all his efforts and companionship, the greatest show of affection he could perform. He knows how the elders asked them both to do so, understands it is a real possibility, and indeed hopes he is the one who succeeds in impregnating him.

That's why when they both surrender to the sheets and give themselves into each other's arms, mouths entwined and claws in the air, Izuna feels complete, liberated, ready to be taken as he truly desires. His brother's touches are precise, with just the right strength and the necessary delicacy, knowing his body like a map he drew himself.

He continues to fervently release his dominant perfume, filling the room with Alpha's ecstasy and bathing him in it, inviting him to consciously erase any traces of others on himself. Not forcing him to do so, but giving him the chance to stop it, to tell him to stop, he enjoys every second of his brother choosing his scent over anyone else's.

Quick kisses and slow caresses lead to a loving encounter replete with affection, where Izuna is cherished as the most beautiful Omega in the world and praised as an ancestral god, Madara working his flesh beyond natural heat and arousal, showing him how precious he is in his eyes with pure concentrated love.

It feels totally right when he penetrates and bites his neck, extremely close to the area where Alphas mark their mates, and finds he wouldn't mind being claimed by him at all. It is his older brother with whom he ends his heat, allowing him indiscriminate access to his belly, surrendering himself to the will of his knot and the mercy of his fangs, marked over and over again by his very blood without any complaint whatsoever.

The Uchiha ends the day brimming with seed, properly bred by the three most powerful Alphas in the world, sweetly awaiting an early revelation, under the anxiety of not knowing who will be the winner of his little competition until his cub is born.

Place your bets.

[starweiser5993]

Prompt “Hokage”. Minha segunda fic para @izunaweek

[invalidname19]

Their just soo ‘okokok’ ‘~lalala~’

[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.

[mysteriouscrimsoneyes]

The Founders giving gifts to Sakura for her birthday! From Hashirama; a cherry blossom hairpin. Tobirama; scrolls about medical jutsu and more. Madara; her favourite dessert, Anmitsu. And Izuna; a deck of Hanafuda cards. Enjoy!

[sapphiresenthiss]

Even the toughest of us sometimes need a trusted shoulder to cry on...

[ladykissingfish]

*Tobirama about to leave on a diplomatic mission with Hashirama* Tobirama, packing: So ... you're going to be okay with me going? Izuna: Yes. Tobirama: You're sure you're not upset about me going for so long? Izuna: No. I understand; it's for the good of the village. Tobirama: Mm, I have to say, you've really come a long way in terms of maturity. *chuckles* Remember the last time I had to go with Hashi on that trip to the land of snow? The tantrum you threw when I said you couldn't come with? Izuna, blushing: Awwww, Tobi ... why'd you have to bring that up? You're making me sound like the neediest boyfriend in the world! Tobirama: *puts his arms around Izuna and pulls him close* Soon to be the neediest fiancé, then neediest husband, if I can manage to get permission from your brother. Izuna: Hmph; good luck with that. Now kiss me goodbye and get out of here. Tobirama: *gives Izuna a deep kiss* Love you. Please keep yourself safe until my return. Izuna: Love you too. And you do the same. *the next night, finally having arrived at their destination* Hashirama: Whew ... either I'm getting older or travelling so far by cart has gotten harder on my body. Tobirama: I know what you mean. I can't wait to take a nice long soak. *puts his suitcase up on the bed* Just let me unpack and -- Tobirama: *unlocks the clasp and jumps back a step, startled* What the -- Izuna, rolling out: Surprise! Hashirama: Izuna?? Tobirama: What the fuck are you doing in there? HOW DID YOU EVEN FIT IN THERE?! Izuna: Foolish Senju; I'm sure I've told you before that Uchihas are known master contortionists! Tobirama: But ... but didn't we have a talk about you being more mature -- ? Izuna: Oi, I AM more mature. I didn't cry this time, did I? I simply decided that I needed to come along with you, so I did. Izuna: *shakes himself out, then wraps himself around Tobirama* You really thought I'd let you leave me for so long? Idiot. Hashirama, laughing: Oh my God, this is hilarious! I can't wait to tell Madara what a crazy guy his brother is! Izuna: Oh yeah? Well you won't have to wait long to tell him; just unpack your suitcase. Hashirama: M-my suitcase? What do you -- "Hashirama's Suitcase": For God's sake, hurry up and unlock this dusty thing! Your clothes smell like you haven't properly washed them in weeks! Hashirama:

[fireblossomdoll]

Soapy Treat (SMAU)

Synopsis: They react to you biting a chunk off a soap

Content: Uchiha Madara x Reader, Senju Hashirama x Reader, Uchiha Izuna x Reader, Uzumaki Mito x Reader, gn!reader, embarrassment, fluff, crack

A/N: Izuna and Mito debut on smau !!

Madara

Hashirama

Izuna

Mito

[yowyowyaoi]

*Tobirama, after another fight with Madara*

Tobirama: You know what? I’m sick of this, I’m sick of taking the diplomatic stance with this guy. Fuck the Uchiha!

Hashirama, pulling on his coat: Will do. Thanks for the advice, brother. Be back in the morning!

Tobirama:

*later that evening; a knock on the front door*

Tobirama: *opens it* 

Tobirama: Izuna? What are you doing here?

Izuna: You’re gonna let me crash here, Senju. There are unspeakable things going on at my house, thanks to the “advice” you gave your idiot brother. *pushes past him* You got anything to eat?

Tobirama: Good lord, you’re as insufferable as Madara! And our couch is being re-upholstered, so where do you intend to sleep? The floor?

Izuna, head in the refrigerator: How ‘bout your bed, Tobi?

Tobirama: Excuse me?? My bed? You expect me to let you have my bed and for me to sleep on the floor in my own house??

Izuna: Are you sure it’s our brothers that are the only idiots here? No, dumbass. You and me. Together.

Tobirama: D-d-did you fall and hit your head on the way over here?? Why the hell would I —

Izuna: Ah, you’re right. We need to go on at least one date first, right? *closes the refrigerator* Perfect opportunity; since you haven’t got anything decent to eat, you can take me out to dinner. Then when we come back, well … *kisses Tobirama’s cheek* We can see what happens. Go comb your hair, it’s a mess. I’ll wait outside. *walks out the front door*

Tobirama: I can’t believe he thinks he can just come in here and push me around like this! Well, I’m not Hashirama; I’m not going to be wrapped around some Uchiha’s finger! I’m gonna tell him to leave, and then —

Izuna, from outside: Tobirama! Put on something blue; you look really handsome in blue!

Tobirama:

Tobirama: *slowly pulls a blue shirt out of his closet*

[damien-wolfram-art]

Ghost Can – and Will Dance at Weddings

A sequel to: “Ghosts Can’t Dance at Weddings”

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@hashimada-week

It was a beautiful spring day in The Uchiha village. The warm golden midday sun dappled through the rows of cherry blossom trees, yuinou wedding gifts, and outdoor speakers that framed a massive promenade. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the pink petals and carried their lightly sweet scent over the hundreds of guests gathered before a brazier that was situated beneath an ornately crafted torii gate.

Even with all the beauty and the pleasantness of the season, Hashirama had never felt so tense. He was standing just behind his younger brother, Tobirama. His wife, Mito, his parents, and his three children were situated behind him, but his attention was centered dead ahead where he sensed a growing bitter iciness. Izuna Uchiha would be coming from there, but instinct told him that it wasn’t Izuna he was sensing.

The gruff voice of Fugaku Uchiha, one of the longest standing members of the Uchiha Clan, announced the start of the procession over the speakers, shocking Hashirama to attention, “Welcome, honored guests, to this momentous occasion! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Izuna Uchiha and Tobirama Senju. Let us revel in the joy and love that fills the air!”

Ahead of his section, Hashirama sensed the chill growing closer. Izuna was approaching with a lit torch held close to his chest. He was positively radiant in its amber glow and Tobirama, who looked more exhausted than usual, even managed to perk up upon seeing him in his matching wedding kimono. Normally, seeing his brother light up this way would spark joy in Hashirama’s heart, but as the procession moved forward, Izuna and Tobirama turned to approach the torii gate together. Then, Hashirama saw him– Madara Uchiha.

The squealing flutes and staccato drum beat of live gagaku music accompanied the procession. Hashirama was late to his queue- too busy staring at the undead man whose sharingan red eyes looked right through him, leaving him feeling frozen to his spot. Before he knew it, he was over a meter behind and his wife, who was equally surprised by the appearance of the ghost, had to nudge her husband to get him moving. By then, he had to jog past the ghost’s mother to catch up and walk alongside him.

To the left of the procession, past Madara, were the many eyes of the Uchiha village; their wonderfully crafted gifts of tapestries and iron works were scattered all around them. To the right, although Hashirama certainly wasn’t paying much attention there, were the guests from The Leaf. They brought gifts of trees symbolizing growth and stability in a relationship as well as fruitful love lives. They brought sake barrels full of both sake and mochi to break open. Many of The Leaf’s denizens also brought gifts of honey wine: a delicacy the Senju had come across in their time as nomadic forest dwellers. It was said that after some heavy rain, water laden bee hives were harvested and that was the start of a Senju tradition. A gift of honey wine was a gift of hope for the couple to go on to live their lives in sweetness though some had snakes in the bottles. This imparted a different meaning. Many believed that the snakes would bestow their strength, stamina, and most importantly virility to their drinkers.

When the procession reached its destination past all the standing guests and the generous gifts, Hashirama looked to Madara again. He wanted to say something, but whenever he thought about speaking to him, his chest ached, and his words were trapped in his throat. There was a quiet murmur from the crowd– especially on the Uchiha side, but no one dared to interrupt the ceremonies. Hashirama and his family sat to the right of the brazier. Izuna’s family, Obito, and Fugaku’s family sat to the left. Tobirama and Izuna stood on their respective families’ sides of the brazier.

Another staccato drumbeat silenced the music and signaled the end of the procession. Fugaku approached from behind the couple, gesturing openly toward Hashirama as he began an important address, “Before we commence this sacred ceremony, it is essential to express our deepest gratitude and acknowledge the unwavering support of a beloved brother, Hashirama Senju. As Tobirama's elder brother, Hashirama has not only played an integral role in his life, helping Tobirama thrive even amidst challenging times, but has also made a generous goshugi contribution, making this wedding possible.”

Hashirama bowed awkwardly at the acknowledgement. While it was true that he had provided the funding for most of the ceremonies and that he loved his younger brother dearly, given the Madara shaped elephant in the room, he was rightly uncomfortable with receiving such high praise. He couldn’t help but look in Madara’s direction to see how he was taking it all. To his surprise, Madara seemed to care very little about him. The dark suited man was simply looking forward with a pleasant smile on his face.

Another drumbeat brought Hashirama to attention once more. Fugaku had his head bowed in reverence. Tobirama and Izuna followed suit. Then, the crowd did the same. “During this momentous occasion, we also take a moment to honor the memory of a cherished father, Tajima Uchiha. As Izuna's father and a former leader of our clan, Tajima's spirit lives on in all of our hearts. We know he would be immensely proud of the remarkable example Izuna has set for the Uchiha clan. Though he may not physically be with us today, his presence is felt, reminding us of the significance of family and the enduring bonds that transcend time,” Fugaku said with a serious and prideful tone.

Though his head was bowed, Hashirama’s eyes kept wandering to his left. Madara was playing along and miraculously, no one was questioning his attendance despite his life being lost over a year ago. He couldn’t fathom how his younger brother had pulled it off.

He remembered warning Tobirama time and time again that the dead were not to be trifled with. He had scolded him endlessly for having a god complex. He’d told him that a jutsu to bring back the dead would never work, and that people would start asking questions. He was wrong. 

Everyone raised their heads and Fugaku’s voice took on a slightly more uplifting tone; this was difficult for him since he was usually a very serious man, but he did his best, “Today, Izuna and Tobirama stand before us ready to embark on a journey of love, commitment, and shared dreams. For the Uchiha, fire is a powerful force that can cause great destruction, but it can also warm us, bring us together, and shelter us.”

Hashirama’s dark eyes widened at the mention of fire and guilt rose up within him, making him suddenly nauseous. “To share your Flame with another– it is to wholeheartedly accept them for all their flaws and to cast aside all judgements. It is to love them unconditionally with every fiber of your being. Furthermore, it is a promise to forever learn and improve together,” said Fugaku; Hashirama swallowed– hard.

 “As The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju, let us join together to celebrate their union and offer them our blessings, support, and well-wishes. May their love grow stronger with each passing day. May they find happiness, success, and fulfillment in one another. With joy and anticipation, let us commence this blessed wedding ceremony!”

Izuna was smiling when he passed the torch to Tobirama. Tobirama took his duty very seriously. As the flutes rang out again, he took the torch that was marked with a white and red tipped uchiwa fan, the crest of the Uchiha. With the utmost of care, he then held it over the brazier between them and it burst alight.

There was a musical flare before some silence. Then, Fugaku led the applause and said, “so, The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju! With this Flame, we recognize Tobirama as Uchiha. May this blazing brazier serve as a symbol of his acceptance into our clan!”

From there, the ceremony moved on. Hashirama was left feeling shell shocked. He clapped for a little too long and his wife needed to correct him again. Feeling her small hand rest on his thick forearm he looked down at it; understanding her concern, he apologized profusely and quietly.

Next, the couple of the hour began the ritual of San San Kudo. As a koto player from the Uchiha began plucking some strings, Fugaku moved to be seated and his wife, Mikoto, took his place, quietly filling the first of three sakazuki cups with three splashes of sake. Izuna graciously accepted the cup with a bow, raising and lowering it twice before drinking. He then returned it to Mikoto respectfully. She filled it in the same way once more and then passed it to Tobirama, who mirrored Izuna’s movements perfectly. During this first drink, the couple thought of their parents and the bonds that were made leading up to their union. During the second cup, they thought of their human flaws of hatred, passion and ignorance. For hatred, funnily enough, they thought of each other and their troubled pasts. For passion, Izuna thought of his brother, Madara; his passion had proven fatal after all. Tobirama however, was still thinking of Izuna and feeling only a little guilty about it. For ignorance they both thought of Hashirama and with the third cup they were released from these flaws.

If only Hashirama could have been so lucky. Instead, he had to endure what was admittedly a beautifully crafted sado tea ceremony hosted by Mikoto with all of the important seated guests; this included Madara who was sat directly across from him and maintained the same stoic aloofness that he had throughout the other ceremonies. After that, came the hiroen reception party, where those seated maintained their positions and partook of a meal consisting of some of the wedding couple’s favorite foods.

There was a bountiful spread of river fish, prawns, pickled vegetables, white rice, miso soup, sekihan– red bean rice (for good luck), inarizushi, more tea, honey wine, and of course sake. It was a filling and delicious meal. Still, Hashirama couldn’t help but feel like he was the only one uncomfortable around an eating, drinking, and talking corpse.

He typically loved these sorts of events, but at this one he found himself drinking in excess to cope with his discomfort. He was also uncharacteristically quiet which garnered the attention of his younger brother. Naturally, Tobirama was quite busy making sure Izuna was happy so addressing his elder brother’s discomfort would have to wait, but this didn’t stop him from noticing the glazed over look in Hashirama’s eyes even when the cake cutting was announced.

There was music playing again. It was louder, more jovial, and less traditional. The formalities were finally coming to an end.

Hashirama was fixated on Madara– his right leg bouncing with anxiety. To him the reception party felt as if it were underwater. He watched as Madara was served a slice, bowed courteously, and began to eat– all with a smile. At some point he too was served a slice, but when he didn’t touch it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Elder brother?”

The room suddenly got louder. Hashirama’s empty eyes turned to meet Tobirama’s compassionate red gaze. “Huh?”

“You haven’t touched the cake. Are you feeling well?” Asked Tobirama’s deeper voice quietly.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I must have just been lost in the moment.”

Tobirama rubbed at Hashirama’s larger shoulder and sighed, “I see. Care to join me for a walk then? I’d like the company and could use some freshening up. I’d hate to bother Izuna with such trifles when he’s having such a good time.”

Hashirama looked over at Izuna who was happily chatting with his mother and his revenant brother. He was beginning to feel sick again, so he opted to join Tobirama, “sounds good.”

The two walked some distance away from the reception party to a private spot amongst the cherry blossom trees before Tobirama stopped abruptly. “I know this is hard for you,” he began strictly, “but can you at least Try to consider how your behavior is being perceived?”

Hashirama was used to Tobirama getting frustrated with him, but after holding his tongue for so long he could no longer. “Tobirama,” he said in the tone he used when chastising him. “What did I say would come from this- this affront against nature? It’s no good. Can’t you see?”

“This “affront against nature” has made Izuna very happy. On this day he should have nothing but happiness! I see nothing wrong with that!”

“He’s a dead man Tobirama!”

Tobirama rubbed at the bridge of his nose and groaned, making quick rigid motions with his arms as he spoke, “I am very aware of that. I am aware that you were the one to make that happen. I am aware of his crimes against The Leaf, but right now none of that matters! Obito is here as well and so long as he disappears after the festivities are over, I have promised not to pursue him either! Both he and Madara share one thing in common: Izuna sees them as brothers. In the same way that Izuna has turned his eyes away from your transgressions, elder brother, so too must we!”

Hashirama went moon-eyed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he himself had imposed so much discomfort on Izuna. In one way or another, Izuna must have been harboring the same feelings toward him as he had toward Madara.

Settling into the thought, he bowed apologetically. “I understand,” he said. “Please forgive me for being so selfish.”

Tobirama placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder again and looked him deep in the eyes. “It’s just one day,” he reassured him. 

The consolation was enough for Hashirama to return to the reception party and eat his cake as it was wrapping up. Fugaku announced over the speakers that there would be an after-party with drinks and music. The guests who stood watching over the ceremonies were invited and their cheers could be heard far and wide.

The music began to play loudly over the speakers and the important seated guests began to trickle their way into the crowd. Seeking comfort in familiarity, Hashirama stood and followed the newlyweds down the promenade. When he was offered some sake, he even began to relax a little. Mingling with the crowd, he’d all but forgotten about-

Madara was approaching him and with some strong intent. The jaunty music shifted. The koto players began a slow and pining waltz in minor key. Hashirama met Madara’s confident sharingan for the first time all day and he was captivated.

“Shall we dance?” Asked the voice of a dead man.

Before he could register what he was agreeing to, Hashirama nodded and was swept away from his family by a firm cold hand that felt dry like handmade washi paper. Then, hand in hand, he could only follow Madara’s lead. The sharingan could not only read movements but could cause them in the right circumstances. In that moment, Hashirama was grateful for that fact. They moved as one, pushing away and coming together three slow and agonizing times. When they were close, Hashirama felt safe and supported in Madara’s strong arms. When they pushed apart, he longed for Madara’s embrace.

Then, Hashirama found himself spinning– one two three times. The dizzying maneuver only made his light inebriation and confusion more evident. Still, he noticed a pattern– movements of three. It was the Uchiha battle tradition. His heart began to race. His hands met Madara’s again only to be rolled outward and get caught at the end of Madara’s reach. He made an involuntary open gesture to match his dance partner and from there he could feel the judgmental gazes of the people in the crowd around him. Madara was making an example of him.

It felt like an eternity before he was rolled back into Madara’s arms. He wanted to just hide there– away from all the guilt and pain, but Madara sent him away again. There, everyone could see the man in the brown patchwork suit for the foolish, self-indulgent, shameful, liar of a man he was. The heat in his already alcohol flushed face increased. The following embrace felt so short in comparison and when he was sent away again, he could hardly stand it. His eyes stung as he tried to fight the rush of his emotions, but then, he was rolled in for the third time; Madara allowed Hashirama's momentum to continue, but he released him from his control. Because of this, Hashirama lost his balance. He reflexively gasped as his center of gravity rapidly approached the ground, but he was promptly snatched by the waist into a deep awkward dip. Briefly, time froze, and he took in all that was that moment with Madara Uchiha. His skin was dull and dry. It cracked on his face and hands. His mane was still impressive and lustrous however– a stark contrast to Hashirama’s tired looking faded brown locks. In his dark suit, crimson colored vest, tie, and with the cherry blossoms falling around them, Hashirama dared to think he was beautiful.

Then he remembered the crowd– his wife, his children. Madara leaned over and pulled him close. “I still have one more move, Hashirama,” he said.

Hashirama felt his heart rate pick up even more. The dip, the lean, and then what? What was Madara intending to do in front of so many people? Would he really go so far as to make that kind of example of him? Was it wrong that he wanted him to?

Madara whispered five words to him. Then, his heart sank. He helped him stand and walked away, leaving him stunned in front of everyone.

What do you think he told him?

@anannua Still kickin'! ~

[luchicm04]

Sorry, I couldn't help myself😅

[belit0]

2000 Word Commission (MadaIzu/ HashiIzu/ TobiIzu) for anon

"Honestly I just want part 2 to be pregnancy sex, I want each of the 3 possible baby daddy’s to have a turn with Izuna while he’s still pregnant."

Part 2 of this!

Ko-fi commissions open!!

"It's really true what they say about pregnant people glowing, you're stunning." Hashirama proclaims with a radiant smile on his face, elbow resting on the table and his hand holding his chin. He stares at him with devotion, as if he would like to throw himself on the floor and kiss his feet, a sensation that makes him tremble with anger and pleasure at the same time. No one looks at him with the same fondness as the Senju, tender, pleasant, genuinely loving eyes.

He could try to compare him to his older brother though it would be pointless, different loves coming from two opposite dominants, both perfect and contrary in every way. Madara's gaze always has a hint of something passionate behind it, a love so pure and deep, real, that it escapes any kind of understanding.

Hashirama is simply .... Hashirama. Faithful dog eyes utterly dedicated to his owner, happy to see him, a level of appreciation within those brown orbs that cannot be explained. He doesn't know where his adoration comes from or what he did to earn it, but his mind clouds over when he hears him talk that way.

Izuna hates and loves it in equal parts.

"Please shut up..." he whispers while covering his eyes with one hand, the heat in his cheeks apparent and impossible to hide. It seems that pregnancy makes him more susceptible to everything, including the flattery he fears so much from the Hokage.

"I can't help it, I love your belly." Those gleaming white teeth never made him so uncomfortable, simultaneously sending a familiar warmth between his legs. What the Uchiha feels every time he finds himself in the spotlight of this Alpha's attention is hard to describe, his ego trying to fight the pleasure he gets whenever he gives him a compliment but his natural instincts bathing in his wonderful words.

He strokes his prominent belly with his other hand thoughtlessly when he hears him speak of it.

Hormones seem to be totally revved up since the three Alphas followed his plan to perfection, filling him with biological possibilities and giving rise to an uncertain future within his being, a life (or several) growing strong with each passing day.

No one warned him how annoying it would be to have the symptoms of a heat but consciously and prolonged for the months it takes to give birth.

The Uchiha now lives horny but without losing his mind about it, pussy always ready to be taken and a constant tingle of pleasure between his legs. It's infuriating and wonderful at the same time.

"Hormones are getting to me, so take off your clothes before I take them off of you." He babbles between the dizziness of arousal and the discomfort of having his entire crotch wet, ready to be fucked just by being near one of the potential fathers.

His body accepted Hashirama since he decided to welcome him as a candidate for his belly, consciously allowing him to fill him and compete for the golden place he carries with him, granting the chance to unite clans and genetics, future perfect generations.

The Hokage follows his instructions smoothly, reacting to the wonderful scent Izuna gives off in the air and ready, extending his hand for him to stand and approach, assisting with removing his clothes.

He guides him to sit on him, prepared area and plain entry, giving him immediate relief at being stuffed by a prominent, good quality Alpha. "I love the effect I have on you" Hashirama whispers as he hears him moan, holding him by the buttocks and helping him up and down.

"Shut up..." Is all he can say, overwhelmed by the pleasure his natural instincts bring about as he is being pleasured, his huge belly in the way making it difficult for him to move on his own. The Senju is huge, a size to recognize and enjoy, but it's always hard to get used to his length.

"Look me in the eyes, pretty one, please." It's a demand disguised as a pleading question, and in a state of feisty submission, Izuna is incapable of denying him anything. Whatever the Alpha asks for is something he will be forced to deliver, complying with his request between moans.

When their gazes connect, the Hokage's hands and hips lose their rhythm, stunned at the sensation of being in the limelight of those black orbs. The power the Uchiha carries in his gaze beyond his Dōjutsu is mesmerizing, a pool of night color to dive into and get lost in, unmeasured beauty focused completely on him.

Izuna is the most beautiful omega to ever set foot on this earth, and Hashirama has him on top of himself, probably carrying his future heir, surrendered and at his complete disposal. It's an invigorating feeling, something that strokes his ego and makes his Alpha purr with satisfaction.

"Senju move-!" two silky soft lips devour his mouth, stealing all his words and breath in the process, a quiet, love-filled kiss that makes him uncomfortable and happy. The Hokage has that terrible power to manage to deal with him, to take away all his sarcastic and passive-aggressive responses, to strip him to his core and expose a need to be seen and flattered he always wished to deny.

Izuna finds himself dying to receive cute remarks from him.

Those huge hands lift him up and down again with a slow, leisurely, amorous pace, taking the time to feel each thrust. His lips don't let go or give respite, and the Uchiha discovers how passionate it is to feel the sweetness of his mouth as he slowly moves him.

In general, he would prefer a much more violent and fast paced, furious sex with no thought for the other or the pain remaining between his legs afterwards, but what Hashirama proposes is as delightful as that.

Eventually, he allows him to breathe, parting mouths but not letting him move his gaze from his, spellbound by the magic those black Uchiha eyes exude, entranced by the beauty of the person above him. "How dare you be so beautiful, hm? You're addictive, Izuna."

He has no strength or concentration to silence him, only able to moan, squeezing his shoulders with both hands and feeling so close to finishing. He never manages to understand how the Senju can fuck him calmly and languidly, and still have the same effect as the opposite. "Such a good pussy... do you want another baby in there?"

"Yes..."

"Good job, beautiful." And with those words Hashirama takes a more vigorous step, stimulating his cunt in a wonderful way and focusing on filling him with his seed again. This time there is no knot or natural need to secure it inside, his body already satisfied with the huge belly he carries, yet adoring to feel it anyway.

The Senju puts all his momentum into targeting the pleasure the Uchiha's pussy milking him provides, still lost in his eyes and enjoying his every expression, feeling powerful with every moan he manages to steal from him.

He hugs him around the waist and rests his head on his shoulder as he feels his peak come, holding him in his arms and making sure he doesn't move.

It is the gestures of tenderness and love, affection, the Senju always has that succeed in making him feel funny, and that which he craves so much when his Omega seeks validation, pleasure.

He paints his inner walls white effortlessly, always ready to give whatever Izuna asks for, totally pleased by the sounds he makes. His hormones relax as he gets what his instincts demanded, and that cloud of need disappears from his mind, allowing pure clarity again.

He pushes himself off of Hashirama faster than the Senju would have liked, leaving him grasping the air and not waiting a second longer than necessary. He picks up his clothes from the floor, pants and underwear in hand while his long robe protects his privacy, and prepares to run away.

The Hokage always manages to make him feel exposed to a level he cannot tolerate without being horny, fleeing every time consciousness returns and he realizes he must face him naked. At this point, he is used to watching him leave quickly after finishing, but the expression of sadness Hashirama always shows creates a huge emptiness in his chest.

He whispers a not quite heartfelt "sorry..." before disappearing out the door and heading for the bathroom, attempting to clean and make himself presentable again. There's always a strange lump-like guilt stuck in his throat when it comes to vanishing from Hashirama's hands, a sentiment he can't erase from his head no matter how hard he tries.

If he becomes the winner of his little secret challenge, he will have to find a way to deal with it.

Distracted in his thoughts and rushing to get back to the privacy of his own home, he is surprised when a hand grabs him hard by the arm and pulls him into another room, door slamming shut behind him.

"What are you doing here?" a frowning Tobirama angrily asks, arms folded and waiting for a satisfactory answer. He observes the clothes in his hand suggestively, implying knowledge of the reasons for his visit but waiting to hear it from him.

"I stopped by to fuck your brother because I was horny, but now I have to go, so if you'll excuse me." He turns to leave out the same door the albino forced him through seconds before, but as he is about to slide it open, a large hand closes over his and stops him.

"What's the matter, Tobi? Angry because the Hokage put a baby in me and you didn't?" He doesn't know who was the winner of his belly, who managed to successfully impregnate him and whose child is inside him, but there is never a shortage of opportunities to make the Senju's blood boil, a sense of old-fashioned comfort in making him angry, momentarily returning to those times when everything was simpler.

"Your womb is too big for only one baby to be in there. You appear to be full-term but you're only about six months." That distinction makes him tense, and his eternal rival seems to notice, "What's the matter, Zuna? Weren't you weighing the possibility of having more than one puppy in there? They're probably all mine." He can feel the mischievous smirk the albino wears on his face as he speaks while putting a hand on his belly, and pressing him against the door.

"Fuck you, Senju, we won't know until delivery." He peels himself off when feeling his rival trying to use his sensory abilities to read his belly, stepping away and walking further into the room. His butt slams against a desk, unable to move his eyes from the man to make sure he doesn't play any tricks on him. "No one will know what's going on in here until then."

He rests both hands on his tummy, protective instinct guarding that future life (or lives) from the possible threat in front of him. Could he and his enemy get along, if this one ended up being the father of his baby?

"Why don't you use your Sharingan to find out?" He asks approaching him, a predator locking up his prey ready to devour it. Nothing in Tobirama's posture invites relaxation, and his hostile words only confirm having to be alert in front of him.

"I want it to be a surprise."

"Surprise? What are you, three years old?"

"Fuck you."

"No, fuck you."

The tension only increases between the two, and the Senju grabs the clothes in his hands only to throw them forcefully to the floor, standing face to face with only inches of distance in between. "I'm not letting you find out, you idiot, spare me the attempts of using your stupid techniques."

He fixes his eyes firmly on him, demonstrating he will neither back down nor allow his intimidations to succeed, resolute in the face of his convictions and unwavering. Tobirama does not let himself be defeated either, an intense staring match where none of them can win.

It is at that moment when the Senju accidentally lets his guard down, stunned by Izuna's orbs. He is still not used to being able of looking an Uchiha in the eyes and telling the story, living, always fervently avoiding that spot after years of fighting against them. This is the very reason why he never manages to avoid the natural spell his enemy has in his gaze, no ocular ability activated.

Tobirama feels absorbed by the color of those eyes and their depth, unintentionally captivated by the wonders hidden in them throughout the years of war. He would never have thought of appreciating his gaze face to face if it weren't for the work his brother and Madara did together, unprepared for what he would find there when it happened.

Izuna's eyes are as alluring and imperious as his scent, a fatal combination for any unsuspecting Alpha. He doesn't know if it's on purpose or an innate talent he has, but his eyes are as captivating as a Genjutsu itself, always catching him off guard and making him forget the situation, the context, everything.

The Senju finds himself salivating to taste his lips, to possess him, not to lose sight of those beautiful eyes and the beauty of the person in front of him-.

"I hate you, Uchiha." is the only thing he answers before turning him around and lifting the little protection that Izuna's robe provided, forcing him to lean with his hands on the desk and tilting his chest forward. Even in his anger and fury, he is careful to place a protective hand on his rival's belly, preventing it from colliding with the wood.

The Uchiha succeeds in angering, annoying, infuriating him without even words, unsettled by the feelings produced by his natural stare, and unable to process any other feeling than negative ones towards him.

He hates him with his soul, or so he forces himself to believe.

A simple tug with his other hand on the waistband of his pants reveals an erect member, arousal he never has trouble stirring up when it comes to fight him. The work his brother did previously left the way paved to thrust hard into him, regardless of whether the Uchiha wants it or not.

"Those babies are mine, you hear me? You're fucking mine, Izuna." He whispers into his neck as he is fully buried in him, dark satisfaction at watching his enemy fight against what is happening. He struggles between a mixture of pleasure and anger, moaning with rage at how good it feels to have him inside him.

"There's nothing you can do about it, you're stuck with me forever." A hand forces him to turn his face and kiss him, holding him by the jaw and manipulating his body as he wishes. Izuna momentarily struggles against his mouth, eventually surrendering under him and accepting his commanding tongue inside.

The albino's pace always leans towards violence and little control, only taking more caution because of Izuna's prominent tummy in his hand. "Look at you, all round with my children, you belong to me from the inside out."

When he senses the Uchiha wants to talk back or wrestle, his tongue slips back into his mouth, intertwining with the other's and fucking him harder when he hears him genuinely moan. Izuna always tries to conceal his arousal from him, to make him believe he has no effect on his body, and that only lasts until he manages to destroy his restraints and break through all his barriers, pushing him to the limit.

"My horny cunt, mine." And when Izuna nods without even thinking about what he says, he knows he manages to reach deep inside him, touching his mind even more than anyone else. He has an overwhelming need to possess him, to make sure he is his and his alone, to keep him from being with anyone else, and a part of Tobirama begs to be the father of that baby just so he can mark him for good with his teeth.

Izuna would look amazing with his fangs tattooed on his neck, ensuring eternal dominance over him.

Lost in that image and fantasy, he chomps down hard on him in the same place he would if he could claim him as his own forever, hoping that mark would never fade. Izuna moans with abandon, and the way his pussy squeezes his cock makes him come right then and there, letting it all inside.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, but there is no affection once he finishes. The nicest thing he does for Izuna is hand him the clothes he threw on the floor before fucking him.

A second later, the door opens and closes, leaving him alone in the room and relieved that his enemy has given up trying to find out what's inside.

Izuna makes quick work of his garments and ignores the need to stop by the bathroom before leaving, wanting even more urgently to return home and lock himself in the safety of his house. His arousal has taken him down a rocky road today, and he just wants to feel the comfort of his nest, sink into the warmth of a hot bath and sleep.

That's what he's thinking about as he makes a quick walk home, as fast as he can with the huge belly he's carrying, feeling the contents of both Senju brothers slide down the inside of his pants, down his legs.

It is an immediately uncomfortable, wet, unpleasant sensation, and he hurries even faster to get there. He avoids busy streets as he walks to the compound, unable to carry on a threaded conversation with anyone in this state, embarrassed by the mark Tobirama left on him.

He will certainly have to think of a way to keep his Aniki from seeing it.

Though he'd love to be strong enough to simply jump through the trees and gain speed, there's no way to do that with a baby inside, at least not without using what little strength he has left. He ends up choosing the longest path of all just to avoid familiar faces, taking much more time on the journey.

When he arrives home, he makes a beeline for the bathroom, immediately filling the bathtub with hot water.

He assumes Madara must be in some meeting with the council solely because of the hour, and feels confident he has time to decide how to cover up that bite on his neck. "Of course you couldn't fuck me without scarring me, of course not, mister "everything I touch is mine". Idiot."

As he pulls off his pants, he appreciates the mess that's soaked into the fabric, a river of white fluids running down to his ankle and somehow grossing him out as he forgets how turned on he was. It will be difficult to clean them up, but he will have to do it personally if he wants to keep today's adventure a secret.

When the tub is finally full, he throws away his clothing problems and steps into the water, quickly gaining instant relief. Wetting his hair with a wooden container, he simply lets the temperature of the water put his mind at ease.

He feels peace as he caresses his belly, genuine joy when he senses movements inside, and thinks about what Tobirama said about having more than one baby. Of course it would be possible, even more so considering his own fertility and the ability all the Alphas he fucked in his last heat have, but it wouldn't cease to surprise him.

He re-evaluates using his Sharingan to see, but quickly dismisses the idea. He decided it would be a surprise, and intends to maintain that illusion until the end.

Gently washes his body, a moment of self-love, but when he reaches his crotch he can't help but feel warm again. Pregnancy hormones are exhausting and impossible to ignore, and when they demand he satisfy his natural needs, there's not much else left to do.

His fingers slide gently up and down his vagina, caressing his outer lips and then moving to his inner ones, lingering on his clitoris for a few circular motions. The sensations are intense and fast, his body predisposed for more release, and he becomes engrossed in his own bubble of pleasure as he masturbates.

Forgetting the world around him as two of his fingers caress that wonderful little ball, side to side and circularly, moving down to his opening when he feels too much pleasure and is about to come only to delay his peak, prolonging the stimulation as long as he can.

His eyes close and his attention wanders among all the physical sensations he is experiencing, failing to notice those eyes staring intently at him from the bathroom door. Fully convinced of being alone in the house, he never restrained his moans or sounds, catching his older brother's attention.

Madara approaches the bathtub, and only when his presence is unnoticeable, Izuna finally opens his eyes. He gives him a tender and embarrassed smile, feeling exposed but comfortable all at the same time, and accepts the hand his Aniki extends to him to get out of the tub.

No words are needed to understand each other, connected in a superior way and without the need to explain, and as he covers himself with a bathrobe, the Uchiha leader empties the tub, both then walking in the same direction to Madara's room.

It is his favorite place to be whenever horny, surrounded by the overpowering scent of his Aniki and feeling totally safe and secure, sheltered by the presence of the most capable Alpha to take care of him and please him. No one knows him like he does, no one knows how to press the right buttons and disarm him under his hands like his older brother, no one understands him the way Madara does.

The leader arranges some pillows on his bed one on top of the other, forming a pile on which Izuna can rest his back and not feel so much pressure on his stomach from the baby's position, ensuring as much comfort as possible for him.

The way he tends to him, making sure he has everything he needs and more, is the biggest turn on factor when it comes to his older brother, ever attentive to him in every way possible, the perfect dominant.

As he lies down on the bed and opens the bathrobe wide, he observes Madara tie his hair into a high ponytail, pulling any strands out of the middle for convenience.

He approaches from the side, climbing over the mattress but avoiding placing himself on him so as not to press his protruding belly, and with one hand exactly where the baby kicks, he kisses him deeply.

How his Aniki's lips move, the contact of his mouth on his, the exactness of his tongue inside his mouth, has no equal, only Madara being able to take him to the limit without even touching him. He can't excuse himself by saying it's the pregnancy hormones, always having this effect on him since the first time they touched like this.

"Aniki... I love you..." He speaks between kisses and holding his brother's face between both hands, desperate to taste and feel him completely. This his Alpha, the dominant who he wishes to be bitten and branded by, the one he wants to belong to completely.

"I love you too, Izuna." The older Uchiha looks into his eyes, foreheads pressed together and undeniable visual contact, black orbs connected in a union of loyalty and passion, pure love that cannot be explained in words. The bond they both share escapes any kind of rationality, and it seems that life divinely united them by making each other Alpha and Omega, destined to be together from the beginning.

Madara is his person, the only one who understands him from beginning to end, who he wants by his side for the rest of his life. There is no safer place than his arms, no more beautiful spot than his eyes, no more perfect location than his lips.

Locking eyes with him exposes love on another level, pure affection in inexplicable ways, and they both lose themselves in each other's kisses in such intimate situations. Soon, they are joined in a deep embrace again, Izuna moaning into his older brother's tongue at the devastating effect he has on her body.

"Please..."

His Aniki replies with a small smile, showing he knows what he wants, and settles between his legs to help him with what he couldn't finish. He holds his pelvis by tangling his arms under his thighs, and his two hands are placed at the base of his belly, caressing the residence of that future baby.

"You're perfect, you know that don't you?" he asks before plunging into his crotch, giving no room for an answer. He slides his tongue from his hole to his clitoris like licking ice cream, flicking the tip up and down on top.

The moans he gets from his younger brother are deep and immediate, spurring him to act with more force and precision. He laps the entire exterior slowly, and concentrates both of his lips on that wonderfully sensitive nub as he sucks, flicking his tongue and attacking the area with pure enjoyment.

Izuna's fingers dig into his hair and tug at it, pressing him even harder against his skin and demanding more and more.

One of his thumbs moves down to his clit, and his tongue now turns to concentrate on devoutly thrusting into him. Madara moves in and out of his hole pointing upwards, brushing that sensitive area with precision while his finger stimulates him at the same time.

He exerts more force on the grip he has on his pelvis to prevent movement, holding him with determination to prevent him from escaping his stimulation. Madara knows he is sensitive, he can feel the scent of two other known Alphas on him even though he bathed, and he is aware they probably fucked him before he came home.

His tongue acts as relief and punishment at the same time, pretending to ignore the mark Izuna wears on his neck so as not to get angry and take it out on him.

The Uchiha could delay his pleasure, not let him finish or push him to the limit a few times before giving him release, let him know he knows about the little adventure he had today only because of the Senju brothers' scent permeating the whole fucking bathroom, but he chooses to be lenient and ignore his brother's sexual insistence.

If he wants pleasure, sex, he can have it here at home with him, but he also understands that hormones make him do stupid things mindlessly. Izuna doesn't need anyone but him, he doesn't need any other Alpha, he has everything he could ever want in Madara himself.

When that baby is born and finally everyone understands this Omega belongs to him, the Uchiha Leader will mark him for good by biting his neck, claiming him as his own and not allowing anyone else to touch him.

He strongly releases his own scent to ensure his younger brother is covered in it, erasing that of the others, permeating the entire room with even more dominance and enjoying how Izuna rubs against his sheets, his pillows, his bed. He is his, ultimately, and deeply his.

He again engages his clit with his tongue, and smiles self-satisfiedly as the younger Uchiha convulses in his mouth, finishing on his lips and tensing his whole body with pleasure. Izuna tries to move his head from between his legs, but Madara punishes him with over-stimulation and a second orgasm followed by another, only stopping when he sees tears in his eyes.

He moves up to his mouth again, kissing him lovingly and making him swallow his own fluids, whispering a "you are mine" against his lips and receiving a "yours, Aniki" in response. The honesty he feels in Izuna's words puts him at ease, completely confident that the baby inside him is his.

[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❤️

[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

[incorrect-hashimada]

Izuna: I sleep with a kunai under my pillow.

Tobirama: Oh yeah? Well, I sleep with my sword.

Madara: You're both pathetic.

Izuna: Why? What do you sleep with?

Madara: Hashirama.

[ladykissingfish]

*Tobirama walks into Madara and Hashirama's house carrying a passed-out Izuna in his arms* Madara: What the FUCK, Senju?! *grabs Izuna from Tobirama's arms* What did you do to him?? Tobirama: Why do you automatically assume I *did* something to him, you asshole? Madara: *activating his sharingan* You want to have a go, you fucking -- Hashirama: Enough! Both of you calm down! Tobi, what happened? Tobirama: Well, we were sparring, and -- Madara: See?! He probably used some underhanded move to hurt my precious brother. I'm going to kill -- Hashirama: Madara. Patience. Go on, Tobi. Tobirama: We finished our spar and Izuna said he was feeling hungry. So we went to that market up the street from our training field. They were having a special on sweet buns, two for the price of one. And Izuna ... he ate a few. Madara: How much is "a few"? Tobirama: Seven, or eight ... teen. Madara and Hashirama: Madara: YOU LET HIM EAT EIGHTEEN SWEET BUNS IN ONE SITTING?! Tobirama: How was I supposed to stop him?! For God's sake, I made a subtle comment when he was on his fifth bun, and look! *holds up his hand* HE STABBED ME WITH HIS KUNAI. Madara: *kisses Izuna's forehead* Good boy. Tobirama: Anyways, right before he passed out he told me to bring him to you, that Uchihas have a "super secret cure" for a bad stomachache. So can you help him? Madara: Well, I can try. I haven't had to use this on him since we were children ... Hashirama: If it's an Uchiha clan secret, should we leave the room? Madara: No. You've married into my clan, so it's best you know. And this ... man, if he's serious about marrying Izuna someday, this would be good for him to know as well. *spreads Izuna out on the couch* Are you both paying attention? Madara: Hovers his hands over Izuna's stomach, eyes closed, and then suddenly starts aggressively tickling him. Tobirama: What the -- are you being serious right now?! How is this helping?? You-- Izuna: *suddenly wakes up laughing, right before letting out a burp so loud it shatters every window in the house* Izuna: Whew! Thought I was a goner, there. That feels so much better! Thanks, big brother! Madara: *hugs him* Any time, Otuoto. Hashirama and Tobirama: