#Tobirama - unable to deny him

[belit0]

ahh, i just found out tobirama was about 40 when he became hokage! which makes him even hotter🤭. can you do a hokage tobirama and his young pregnant shy wife meeting his family and like people around the village

I need to EXPLICTLYYYY know where you got that information from bc confirming that he was a daddy brings a different flavor to his character🫠❤️‍🩹

For clarification purposes: Madara is blind in this piece. Hashirama healed Izuna before he died, under Madara's acceptance of peace, and Aniki never took his younger brother's eyes, preferring to go blind rather than steal his sight.

No one dares to look him in the eye, let alone question the possessive hand that won't let go of (Y/N)'s hips. Her belly is too prominent to deny the situation, but no one is used to seeing the current Hokage with his wife.

Senju Tobirama devoted himself to hiding the woman he promised as a bride, unable to tolerate stares at her and unfortunate comments. Both men and women would send lust and desire toward her, and he would have no way to stop them all. What better remedy than to shelter (Y/N) until his ownership is undeniable?

Tobirama can be quite capricious.

The man even went as far as not allowing his own older brother to meet her, Hashirama himself excluded from the equation. To think that the former Hokage could betray his younger brother like that was ridiculous to everyone, but it wasn't about lust with him. No.

Tobirama hid (Y/N) because he refused to lose the one ray of light in his life (after Anija's solar shower, of course). His past is made up of death and disappointment, built as an unfeeling weapon of war by his father, robbed of the ability to empathize with anyone until the creation of Konoha.

His wife brought a peace he didn't know he needed into his life, a breath of fresh air even as nations struggled to not cooperate with peace, freedom among so much horror and suffering. (Y/N) showed him that life could be spent out of survival mode, that he could relax for sleep and accept another person into his bed without danger.

Having found what he always sought without knowing it, Tobirama could not afford to lose it.

Keeping her away from everything and everyone (beyond his possible jealousy) was also composed by the need to protect her, to remove her from the spotlight that inevitably comes with being the Hokage's future wife, to prevent her from being used against him. The albino's attitudes were based on affection, but now that (Y/N) is round with his creation, full of him, he can't help but proudly display her.

He strolls through the market streets with his head held high and his wife tightly in his grip, shooting hostile glances at anyone who looks at them for more than five minutes at a time. Of course he expects people to be surprised, but he doesn't want her to end up with the evil eye either.

"Hokage-Sama! Here, here!" shouts a little old lady from his favorite food stall. He can't ignore people from his village, those who trust him, and comes up to her stall to give her a smile unbecoming of Tobirama. "You look very happy, Hokage-Sama!"

"Ah... how could a man not be, having such a beautiful woman by his side?" And (Y/N) blushes, waving slightly at the little old lady and trying to hide the redness of her cheeks behind the sleeve of her yukata.

The elderly woman smiles, and hands them both a small package of food without accepting anything in return, "here, here, take this, enjoy life!" She practically pushes them out of her stall, and they resume walking to the point they agreed on with Hashirama.

People stare and stare at them, some even dare to congratulate the Hokage, give him blessings, ask if he could feel how many children are there. Some inquiries make him uncomfortable, and with just a blunt look he gets rid of those prying eyes.

They receive more gifts along the way, offerings of love and respect, food and decorations, townspeople declaring their eagerness to meet the Hokage's offspring. Tobirama would not expect to have interacted with so many people in such a short distance, and his social battery is noticeably drained, squeezing (Y/N) more and more protectively against his body.

By the time they reach Hashirama's house, the Hokage no longer wants anything to do with anyone.

"Ayoooooo! Tobi! You made it!" his older brother waits for them sitting at the door, like a little kid waiting for his dad to come home from work. The problem is, Hashirama is not a child, and not little one either. He pounces on the two, wrapping his arms around them and pressing their faces to his chest, invasive and effusive as always but enhanced by (Y/N)'s presence.

"Aaaa! (Y/N)! Finally released from your confinement! It's so beautiful to finally meet you!" Anija lets go of him, only to squeeze her separately, give her kisses on the crown of her head and clench her cheeks like a grandmother. Yes, Hashirama could be compared to a grandmother. "Have you looked... I mean, in there? See what's in there? We could ask Izuna to-"

"No."

"But-"

"No. It's a surprise." Tobirama pulls (Y/N) out of his arms, and hugging her enters the house he knows by heart. He heads straight for the courtyard, where he knows Hashirama (who comes behind him with his head down and feigning sadness) enjoys afternoons of tea.

Of course, he does not expect the surprise his brother has prepared for him there.

The whole clan, the whole damn family is gathered around a huge table, different from the one Anija prefers for his solitary lunches. Sitting in the two main seats, the Uchiha brothers, who have no business in a Senju house, full of Senju men and women.

Is this what peace looks like? Graphically represented? Tobirama wants to vomit.

"TOBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" He is greeted by his entire family as a whole, and the elders soon hover over both of them. Females kidnap (Y/N) to shower her with questions and love, all a carbon copy of how Hashirama behaves but boosted to the tenth.

The albino is also abducted, but by the young men and his older brother, who seems to have regained his cheerfulness. They sit him down in front of the Uchiha brothers, and it's like sending a cow to the slaughter.

"Tobi Tobes... I didn't know your family called you like that, neither that your wife was SO pregnant... He hides too many things from us, right Aniki?" Izuna starts, as usual, not missing a chance to poke him with whatever comes in front of him.

"Hm."

"How many children do you have there? 3? She's... prominent!"

"Get my wife out of your mouth before I make you remember why the war existed in the first place." It's a blunt threat, and the young men around him tense up. Peace is old at this point, but the habits of a life that no longer exists are hard to forget.

"He's joking! Yes, yes, he's kidding! No tobi?" Hashirama tries to disperse the waters, and it works, at least with those who don't know them inside out. Madara knows what's coming, and so does he somehow.

"You want me to see how many are there? With the Sharingan, I mean... it's not like I actually want to get inside-"

"Izuna. Enough." Aniki tries, and succeeds until the albino glares at his little brother.

"Madara... you're blind, but if only could you see the size of that woman's belly..."

"IZUNA!" This time it's Hashirama, who gets indignant every time the Uchiha speaks so lightly about his brother's eye condition. Maybe it's the way they both have of cooperating with the situation, but it's still terrible in his ears.

The Uchiha leader chuckles under his breath, and it's all the validation Izuna needs to go on.

"So, what do you say, Tobi Tobes, want to check it out?" and before he can activate his Dōjutsu, two huge branches stop them both. Tobirama, who was in the process of pulling out a kunai and jumping to his throat, is imprisoned in his seat. Izuna, about to reveal the mystery the couple wanted to keep, has a huge trunk wrapped around his head in the eye area.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too."

"Fuck all of you guys." And everyone turns around in surprise, because this time it's (Y/N) doing the talking. She puts a hand on her husband's shoulder, dodging the wood on him, and gives a pleasant smile to the Uchiha brothers. "We'll find out how many children are here at the time of delivery, for the time being, I appreciate your efforts, Lord Izuna."

#tobirama senju x reader #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x reader #senju tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama #naruto imagines #naruto #naruto shippuden #senju clan #naruto founders #senju hashirama #hashirama senju #hashirama #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #izuna uchiha #izuna #uchiha izuna #uchiha clan

[nanamimizz]

tags: fluff, minors dni, reader is shorter than tobirama and is described as such, fem reader, this is very self indulgent sorry, kissing, sorta of cuddling, sitting in his lap, reader has hair that can be touched, tobirama’s kinda clingy when in love lol. @cyancherub @hanmas - some tobirama to keep you guys afloat as i write the fuller tobirama fic <3 1.5k words

synopsis: tobirama tries his utmost to milk as much affection from you in your time together.

sorry for being crazy but i am once again having thoughts of tobirama and how much he enjoys being bigger than you, being stronger than you good god - he likes standing behind you, walking behind you; how you have to turn and crane your head to look at him makes his stony face smile, lips tugging upward and his eyes crinkle. you visit him in the early noon, coming to his office so he can have at least one break. you’ve brought him lunch, which isn’t unusual as you’ve decided that you have had enough of him paying for shared meals. neatly packed in a bento box - fish, rice, mushrooms and other vegetables line the corners of the box and he smiles at your efforts.

when he bites the fish he blinks at the flavor; it’s light and fresh, you probably got up early to head to the fish market for the first catch. he casts a glance your way, sitting next to you he towers and takes up more of the couch in the office than you do. you take small bites, gently taking the flesh of the fish into your mouth by your teeth and he’s enamored by the delicate motions in which your traverse the world in. a strand of your hair falls, blocking his view of the happy look on your face from eating delicious food so without second thought, with rational thinking he reached over and tucked the strand back.

you look up at him with innocent eyes, his palm - warm and pale rests at your cheek as he smooths his hand to hold your plush skin in the worn, scarred skin of his hand. his thumb rubs into the high bone of your cheek and Tobirama looks at you with such softness you are helpless at how your cheeks warm. blinking up at him you ask,

“is something wrong tobirama? is the food bad?” with a tilt of your head (or rather as good as you can tilt it in his grasp, he tries to ignore the heat that ignites within him at how ease it is to keep you in place) he takes in the sound of your voice, it feels him with the memories of happier times - of when he was a child and hashirama taught him how to turn a blade of grass into a whistle. he blinks slowly, the way cats do to show affection before he chuckles softly at you.

“no, the food is wonderful, thank you for bringing it to me. it’s just…” he trails off, swallowing when he looks at you once again - takes in how your eyelashes frame your eyes, the softness of your skin and the fullness of your lips. rarely does tobirama allow himself to feel such lavish emotions, his heart hardened by the tragedies of his youth but here, in the office of the village that promises better he allows himself to find home in the heart you had opened with just a smile.

“you look very beautiful today. i couldn’t help but stare.”

he chuckles again when he feels the skin under his thumb warm from his words - you even hide your face, bring your sleeve covered hand to hide behind and are unable to meet his gaze. it amuses him, you are honest person through and through - do you really think such a simple action would spare you from his affections? he reaches over and takes your hand in his ; humming at the difference in size and in softness. he folds his fingers under yours, thumb resting above your knuckles of your fingers and brings your hand to his lips. softly he pressed a kiss to the knuckles looking at you from over the crest of your hand.

“why do you deny my affections? do you think you could hide from me to easily?” he asks and you know he is teasing, amusement dances in the red of his eyes and you helplessly stammer lost in the crimson of his gaze. slowly, to tease you more, he raises your hand higher as he lets go of your fingers and lets your sleeve fall down - exposing the underside of your wrist and presses another kiss to spot where the veins cross and the pulse can be felt. you bristle and flinch at the action, flustered and shy as you gasp softly from his ministrations.

“s-stop that, it tickles me.” you plead, unconvincing and voice high.

“really? i’ll do well to remember that.” he hums, eyes crinkling in amusement at how simple it was to reduce you to this state, eyes wide and shining with your shoulders raised to your ears as you avoid his gaze. he leans in, broad shoulders and chest barricading you to the arm of the sofa furthest from the door, and you hunch further in as if to disappear into yourself. the food is forgotten, he finds that something sweeter needs his attention.

he smells of the cypress tree and the air tastes of spring water when he is near, his arm rests on the back of the sofa and you squeak when he bumps heads with you. breathlessly you laugh, joy cutting through your fluster like a knife, ‘he’s like a cat’.

“what is so amusing?” he asks, pressing another kiss to your warm cheeks, his own pulling back as he smiles softly at the chime of your laughter.

“you’re like a cat, the way you bumped heads with me.” you say, smiling shyly and your eyes gazing at his collarbones; you can’t meet his gaze when he’s like this, it’s too much for your delicate heart. he hums thoroughly entertained and enamored you, he cocks his head and smirks looking at you with lidded eyes. the ticking of the clock in the room lets him know his time with you is nearing its end so he decides to play a quick game before you leave.

“give me a kiss.” he says and you peak behind him, at the door craning your head over his shoulders and he tries to ignore the heat in his spine when he sees how much you stretch to get a good look. when you see no one, you turn back to him your smile aglow as lean close to him, he can smell of tea, citrus and the home you two share.

“don’t worry, i’d know if someone was at the door.” he reassures, his hand coming to rest at the slope of you waist. you stiffen, the heat of his palm burning through the yukata you wear and you flush of the intimate touch. your hands reach and rest on the panels of his face, thumbs rubbing the hollow of his cheeks right underneath the thin red markings that decorate his handsome face. you pressed your lips to his, a soft and delicate kiss and tobirama sighs into it.

he brings his other hand to your waist, effortlessly handling you to sit in his lap and he greedily swallows the squeak you let out in return. you pull away, hand on your chest and covering your mouth as he grins slightly you, now sitting on his lap. his thighs are sturdy and strong beneath you, stable even when under your weight and you try to not let your thoughts run wild. he chuckles as your modesty, his thumbs rub circles in the material that covers your hips.

“tobirama! what if someone walked it?” you scold, voice high from the embarrassment.

“then i would have known, sweet girl.” was his response, ever the smart ass. you pout at him and move to get up however tobirama easily keeps you in rightful spot, situated on his lap. his hands almost cover the circumference of your hips, fingers sinking in the plush of your soft skin. he leans to press his forehead to your chest and you sigh contently.

most people would assume senju tobirama to be a cold lover but that’s the furthest thing from the truth, he enjoys being preened and taken care of like a tomcat and enjoys resting against you even more. you let your hand run though his hair, giving him peace for a few moments as the clock hits the hour. 

“i need to go now” you whisper, and he nods but doesn’t let go. not yet, not when you are soft and warm and sweet and everything he wants in this moment. you coo, pressing a kiss to his brow and he looks at you with gentle eyes.

“you’ll have me tonight.” you say but it’s a promise and tobirama knows, so he let’s you go and take your bento as you straighten yourself up. he moves to side so you walk in front of him and he keeps his eyes trained on to your smaller frame until you meet the door. you smile at him, reaching on your toes to kiss him and he meets you halfway, his hand gently caressing your hair as he pulls back.

“i’ll have you when i’m home.” he repeats.

you smile and nod. the door closes and tobirama, the man who dedicates every waking moment to work, desperately wishes for the day to end.

#lamb.writes #naruto x reader #tobirama x reader #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama fluff #naruto fluff #naruto. ♡ #tobirama. ♡

[writersfantacy]

"Because You're Important to Me"

“Please, just this once,” you pleaded with the younger Senju, your eyes imploring him to reconsider. He sat at his desk, his red orbs unfazed by your words. You had tried everything: pleading, threatening, even insulting him. But he remained stoic and unyielding. “Your request is denied,” he said sternly. “You may leave.” You had never begged anyone before; as a capable shinobi, you had always relied on your own strength and skill. But this mission was different. It was your chance for promotion, for recognition of your abilities. And so you had set aside your pride and begged for the opportunity to prove yourself. There was Just only one obstacle in between, Tobirama Senju. You both were never on good terms, even after knowing each other for years, You managed to get him angry. Only he could approve your request which was a difficult task to accomplish. You had tried everything to convince him, but he remained unmoved by your pleas. Finally, you decided to confront him directly. “May I know why?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anger and frustration boiling inside you. “You’re not capable enough,” he replied with a matter-of-fact tone that made your blood boil ."You're doing this on purpose" you said, while a tear escaped your eyes. You were angry at yourself for crying in front of him, and you clenched your fists as you ran out of the office. You avoided everyone and everything until you reached the riverfront, a place that only a few people knew about. Tobirama was surprised to see your tears; he had never seen you cry before, and you had always been strong in front of him. That evening, you cried your heart out until someone approached from behind. “Leave now,” you said angrily, still crying.

.

He sat down next to you and spoke the words you never thought you would hear from him: “I’m sorry.” You were taken aback, but decided to continued. “You said I’m not capable,” you said, that was the first thing that came out of your mouth. "you’re not,” he added, his statement blunt yet sincere. “If something were to happen to you, I would be unable to forgive myself for sending you. I cannot take that risk.” You felt like he was holding back something, but his words were genuine.

He looked at you, his red orbs staring into your soul. You couldn’t help but ask him the question that had been on your mind: “Why are you concerned about my death?” You immediately regretted your words as soon as they left your mouth.

But Tobirama surprised you once again. He got up and smiled, a rare sight for him. His smile was beautiful, as if it could light up a room. “You are important to me,” he said simply.

You were left speechless as he walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

#tobirama x reader #senju tobirama #tobirama headcanons #naruto founders #anime fanart #manga

[koroart]

Deity Au TobiMina starts off as a sort of unrequited love ( on account of Tobirama , he is unaware of Minato's own feelings for him ) and because Tobirama knew for a fact that Minato wasn't meant to be his.

Because I like to torture Tobs ✌💕

#Minato had feelings for him too like big time and wanted to tell tobirama #but tobirama sent him away under guise that there was nothing more he could teach him #breaking Minato's heart despite Tobirama not knowing his feelings for him #before he leaves Minato would request just one wish from Tobirama #to be embraced by him as had never truly known what it felt like to be held #Tobirama - unable to deny him #fulfilled that simple wish #and soon they parted ways #thats also the story of how the first stars were formed #because of the drops of Minato's tears as he left #im still working out how they would be together #because here minato and kushina are fated for one another #and trust me minato comes to love kushina very much so so much #her love helped soothe his heartache #Tobirama's own heartache was healed eventually and the two still remained close friends #hmmmmm so many thots #:: koko speaking! #deity au

[raendown]

Just crawling out of my hole real quick to say that no one else used that stupid prompt generator they apparently wanted for @madatobiweek so I did it myself. The one I pulled was “blood”. 

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2500 Rated: T+ Summary: If he thought really hard about it Madara still wasn’t sure if he would be able to remember what it felt like to live.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

And All That I Loved, I Loved Alone

If he thought really hard about it Madara still wasn’t sure if he would be able to remember what it felt like to live. The freedom to run, the touch of grass under his feet, the taste of anything that wasn’t plain gruel with its minimum basic nutrients, it was strange how easily the memories faded. Then again, he couldn’t even remember how long he’d been here so who was he to say how quickly memories of his previous life should fade? All he knew and all he cared about was that Tobirama had been gone for three winters now. 

This would mark the fourth when it came. Standing in line to receive his morning bowl of slop, Madara cast his eyes to what little sky he was allowed to glimpse and tried to remember the color of the eyes that used to watch him in the night. Red, of course, but what shade? What forgotten fruits and gems had he compared them to when they danced in the glow of torchlight? The air was growing cold again, frost gathering on the manacles that held him in place to sleep at night, and already Madara couldn’t recall the feeling of warm fingers pulling him close. Precious memories and they too were fading. Like so many of the others here liked to say, there wasn’t anything this place would not take from you. Some of the men who’d been worked until their fingers were little more than bone had even forgotten their own names. Madara once vowed to never let himself fall in to that state but without Tobirama everything here was so much harder and after waiting for so long he’d begun to wonder if maybe it hadn’t all been a fantastical dream.

Had he imagined the soft touches, the hoarsely whispered promises? To ask would be to risk knowing.

Several spaces ahead in line, a woman fell, body sagging and crumbling to the side. Her bowl clattered as it rolled away across the rocky ground. Madara stepped around her with everyone else as the line continued onwards, implacable, undeniable. Eventually someone would come to take the body away; he could only hope they got around to it before she bloated and filled the whole area with the stench of rot. Their unwashed bodies were stench enough - or so he’d been told by the latest additions to his work team. Madara couldn’t remember what the world smelled like away from unwashed bodies and the scent of burning metal.

They were building something, that much he knew, but asking questions generally resulted in losing blood and if there was one thing Madara had kept of himself it was that he was a very fast learner. He watched and he learned to keep his mouth shut. He observed and he learned that the guards were unkind to those who met their eyes. He listened and he learned that there really was no way out of this place. 

Maybe he’d imagined it after all. No one had ever escaped this prison, that’s what everyone said. And if no one ever escaped then either his dying mind had crafted the illusion of Tobirama to keep him sane or the man had indeed once been real only to die in making his attempt at the impossible. Madara closed his eyes, shuffling along with the slowly moving line. He supposed it didn’t matter what the truth was. Whatever the case, Tobirama was not here and Madara felt the lack of him in every cell of his body. The few memories of imagining that were left to him were precious, hoarded like secrets to be remembered in the night and soothe him to sleep, dreaming of places his waking mind could never conceive of. Giving up on those little bits of himself were all that kept him from becoming like the wraiths that gibbered in their cells at night and cackled as their bloody hands worked the mines day after day, rattling the air around them with insanity like a siren calls a sailor to their doom. No, Madara was hopeless but he was not quite ready to give in to that.

Eventually. Some day. He knew his fate just as everyone here learned at some point. If they didn’t die from the lack of sun where their prison was sunk just below the earth’s surface then the exhaustion of their daily labors would do it. Madara couldn’t say what they were building, that wasn’t for someone like him to question, but he supposed it didn’t really matter. They could be constructing absolutely nothing just for the sake of punishment and it would all be the same to them, collapsing at the end of every day covered in sweat and dirt and their own filth. Endless cycles that began the day they arrived and ended long after forgetting that they had not always been here. Madara himself struggled to so much as envision a world outside of this place, let alone recall who he might have been, all the places he might have seen. Was Madara even his true name? Only the past would ever know. 

Shouting from one of the farther encampments rose suddenly and Madara ducked his head low in time with everyone else. Any show of interest in whatever was causing such a commotion would be taken as a desire to get involved, something that would no doubt lead to punishment. Everything led to punishment here. It took breaking and reforging in to a shell of shattered pieces to go even one full day without punishment and that was only if you didn’t count their daily labors as a punishment unto itself. The entire line of prisoners before and after him bowed their heads, eyes on their own filthy toes, watching the cold dust rise as they shuffled along in search of food. 

When the noise drew closer Madara wasn’t the only one to squeeze his eyes shut as though hoping he could disappear in to the shadows until whatever nonsense was happening had passed over them. The line moved and he moved with it. Foreign sounds echoed off the rough hewn walls around them but the only thoughts in his mind were reserved for prayers that Cell Block Fourteen would not be denied their morning meal for someone else’s stupidity. 

A flash of light made him flinch away on instinct. Long burns scars on his back had taught him years before to be wary of anyone bearing torchlight. Then it flashed again and he realized it wasn’t dancing the way a flame should. The anomaly was enough to light a spark of curiosity in him that should not still have the energy to live, canting his head in time to watch something rise and fall, catching the light as it did, something long and shining. Not creating light but reflecting it. Madara watched it rise again and the curiosity was there, if dull, to wonder at the dark substance that sprayed from its tip. Strange, he could have sworn there was nothing to dull that shine the first time it raised. The prisoner in front of him stepped forward and Madara drew his eyes away. Not his business. He knew better than to look, he scolded himself. 

Tobirama would have looked. 

It was this thought that left him open and vulnerable to a scream that shook him down to his core, different from the others because this one was close enough to reverberate through his skull, real in a way he couldn’t escape when he looked round a second time just fast enough to watch a long blade slide through flesh and bone to come out stained on the other side, cold steel parting the crest of the guards’ uniform. He wasn’t the only one who looked. Suddenly the screaming was all around him as the line scattered and Madara was just slow enough to get knocked to the ground, nearly trampled in the stampede of terrified prisoners. 

Somehow it was even more frightening from here where the constant thunder of flight knocked him back again and again, unable to regain his feet and unwilling to let his head be crushed. Madara rolled back and forth, dodging the flying limbs as best he could, and counted the new bruises on his legs out of sheer habit. At least these came without the price of blood. He’d had worse. Still, he was glad when there finally came a break in the rush, just enough space for him to roll his feet underneath him and stand. He stood to see a new world descending on the one that had subsumed him more years ago than he knew how to count.

Flashes of steel drew the eyes in too many directions at once. Blood sprayed through the air, stained the dirt and the walls and the heavy armor that marched inexorably forward. Prison guards lay dead and dying in broken heaps. One of them had been pinned to a wall by a long polearm weapon and Madara was morbidly fascinated to see the body thrashing against its own will. Good, he thought distantly, now they will know the pain we felt at their hands. 

And then. Oh and then. 

There he was.

Limned in golden torchlight with a face as implacable as the tides themselves he came, sword in hand, steel in his eyes. Madara knew those eyes. Had looked for them when his world was darkest and dreamed of them when all hope had left him. Had clung to the memories even as they warped and faded. Oh but he knew those eyes and the voice that roared beneath them. Three years apart had put muscle and flesh upon his bones, filled out the body now cased in metal, but Madara would have known him by the corner of an elbow glanced around a corner. 

Tobirama had come. Promises whispered in the dark made real. 

For all the chaos around him and the occasional body that tossed him from side to side Madara could do nothing but stand utterly still and watch as Tobirama cut a path through the bodies in front of him like they were nothing but chaff and shadows, white skin stained as red as his eyes and entirely unbothered by the death he wrought. The sword he carried rose and fell, swooped and slashed, death in the form of a dance, and Madara could not imagine that anything more beautiful could exist in any world. If there were a god then surely they had chosen this man as their avatar on earth, the instrument of their will. In every direction prisoners panicked and guards called out the alarm but in those moments as he watched the rebirth of his own dreams Madara knew safety for the very first time. 

He realized that he might by his very refusal to move stand out from the writhing chaos around them only when he felt a hand close around his throat and a fire he hadn’t known was still there inside him flickered to life. Embers long buried coughing away the dust of imprisonment, both hands coming up to pull at the fingers choking him in a protest he would not have had the strength for only an hour before. Now was different. Now when his eyes fell closed against the fading air in his lungs he knew there was something to fight for, scrabbling and kicking with withered limbs, gnashing teeth when a second hand came around to cover his mouth. The taste of blood was a triumph he hadn’t known in so long he nearly stopped moving just to savor it. 

As the world turned hazy it occurred to him that this might be the end and the thought was not a terrible one despite his instincts to fight. The awakening desire to live. So long he had spent in the darkness, so much time alone and uncertain, he couldn’t bring himself to believe that an end like this would be anything but a victory. Did he not have vindication? Proof that Tobirama was real, alive, that everything they shared had been as true as he remembered in the dreams that gave him warmth through the frosted nights? At least he would die with a kernal of happiness fluttering in his belly like something forbidden. One last grand rebellion to the ones that had made him so miserable for who even knew how many years. 

Oxygen rushed back down his throat so fast he nearly choked on that as well when the hands upon him fell away. Madara coughed through the taste of dust and blood, stumbling back until his eyes could focus again and then struggling to clear his mind, to understand what he was seeing. Shining silver and dripping red. Fear and shock and some instinctual plea for mercy all twisted together in an ugly grimace as the guard who dared to touch him spent his death throes on the point of a steady blade. When the body fell it was gone from his mind as easily as that. What could ever possibly hope to hold his attention with a face like that staring back at him with such adoration?

“You came,” Madara croaked, voice hoarse with disuse and thick with emotion. 

“Did I not promise?” Ah but Tobirama’s voice had always been a honeyed rumble, a caress upon the ear like nothing else. Time and distance had only made his tones all the sweeter. 

His fingers were gentle, even encased in steel as they were, but even if he had been rough and unthinking Madara would have fallen in to his arms just as easily. Because he had indeed promised and he was here now keeping that vow. Keeping the dreams they had spun together alive, weaving new possibilities with nothing but his steady and undeniable presence. 

Trust was not something easily come by in this place where only pain existed. It had been three long years since Madara knew what trust could feel like, the taste of absolute certainty that he could rely on anything but his own efforts. He knew it again now, after three long and endless years, resting his weight fully against Tobirama’s chest and closing his eyes. Chaos strained and flowed around them. Death rang out in echoes that flickered back against themselves over and over and over. Madara knew none of it. His world had been darkness, despair, and desperation, had been struggle, sorrow, and strife, and all of it had been worth it now to feel the arms that circled his waist and pulled him in close, the hand that cradled his neck like something so very, very precious. Tobirama had come. Whatever came after they would face it together again as they had before and that was all Madara could ever - would ever - need. 

In the darkness where once he expected to die Madara learned again what it was to live.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #medeival au #sort of?? #fanfiction

[cafeinthemoon]

Tobirama with s/o who's scared of water - Part II 🌊

So here’s the second part of my list of headcanons for Tobirama with a s/o who has a phobia related to water (if you want to read part I, click here)! I almost gave up on writing it partly because I’m lazy and partly because other works appeared and I ended up leaving this one aside, but today I was revising some drafts on my computer and found the doc with the ideas for part 2, so I decided to finish what I’ve started. Yay.

Fandom: Naruto | Tobirama Senju

Symbols: ◻ | 💗 | 💛 | ▶

Warnings: mentions of trauma, painful memories and drowning; fear of deep waters

Since the start, you knew it would take time

It is true that sometimes you thought you were making no progress and even questioned the effectiveness of the plan

But you had Tobirama as your guide in this, and he was determined to make this work

Sometimes he seemed to have determination for both of you: whenever you started to speak of giving up, he would do anything to revive your motivation

So you never really lost your hope that one day you’d overcome this problem together

Everyday you took some time for this exercise: you would go to a calm place where Tobirama would create a pool and you’d have to enter it

As you confidence would grow he would deepen the level of water, so that you started with the water on your ankles, but now it was passing your knees

Your greatest difficulty was the sinuosity of the land under the water: whenever your feet would find a crack or a depression on the soil, you got paralyzed

The idea of getting stuck or going down and not being able to reach the surface again was the root of your hesitation now

This didn’t go unnoticed to him

He asked you to stay out of the water for a moment, then used it to level the soil until the deeper holes disappeared

When you stepped into the water again, you immediately felt the difference, and this elevated your confidence

By the end of that day, your steps were more firm and faster

It didn’t take long until you had the water on your thighs

You still couldn’t walk without holding Tobirama’s hand, but you no longer got stuck, unable to move, and that was a huge difference considering how you were in the beginning

Now you could even play with the water, passing your hand on its surface to form small waves or kneeling to reach the soil with your palms

When the day you finally managed to walk into the water without holding his hand, you were more than happy

You covered your mouth with your hands, and it was impossible not to let a tear roll through your cheek

After all that time, you were finally gaining control over your body when in contact with water

When you raised your eyes to Tobirama, you saw approval in his

Though it seemed something insignificant for a master of Suiton like him, he knew how important it was for you to be where you were now

It was clear that he was almost as happy as you with you conquer

He offered his hand to take you to the middle of the pool, but that time you said you wanted to do this by yourself

He nodded, and you took step by step until you saw yourself surrounded by the water

He approached you and hugged you, saying he had a surprise for you

You raised an eyebrow, suspicious, but let him do whatever he had in mind

While he had one arm around you, he raised his free hand and made a sign. Slowly, the water started to rise

You startled a bit, but a look at him told you you didn’t need to worry; Tobirama knew what he was doing

In seconds, a swirl were formed around the pool, with wall as high as trees

You held tight on him, your hands squeezing the fabric of his clothing

He tightened his grip around you

“Do not worry. Just look”

You did it, and the sight seemed beautiful to you

You told him you wanted to touch the swirl, and he walked you close to it

You made en effort to face the noise of the running water right before you, the blurred images of the things outside seen through the water lens, and raised a trembling hand toward it

New tears came out when your fingers felt the cold water running through them, creating gaps on the wall that would change as you moved your hand

To think the fear you’ve carried for so many years has been denying you from admiring such thing. And to think that Tobirama used to deal with something like this for his entire life and only then you were becoming fully capable of admiring it

You looked at him with your respect all renewed

When he asked you if you wanted to go home now, you laid your head on his shoulder and replied that you wanted to stay there for a moment

You needed a little more time to enjoy your new discovery 💙

#tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama headcanons #naruto headcanons

[amyrallis]

So I Waged War Against The Skies -The Old Gods Are No More-

Written for my amazing anija, @sleepysenseis (love you uwu) because they are great and they're perfect and so is their art and anija knows exactly how to enable me, dammit. Enabled™ smol otouto me and here is the MASTERPIECE:

--------

“No.” Tobirama breathed, his body a mess from all the times he had been stabbed straight through, the pain barely registering. He sometimes thought it was a good thing he had never finished with the Edo Tensei. This was one of those times.

Madara hummed next to him, his now a greenish white hair drifting in the breeze as he surveyed the broken battlefield in front of him. “No? They already lost. There’s no point in denying it, Tobirama. It’s not like you.” The purple eyed man turned around, a madness that made Tobirama lose his breath settled deep in his eyes.

Tobirama knew Madara was right. The battlefield had gone painfully silent, the symbol of hope that Naruto was having fallen somewhere in the chaos and left them stumbling blindly in the dark. He closed his eyes as another pang went through him. To attack this man so openly without any plan was nothing short of foolish, something that Tobirama had known for a long time but Naruto had somehow missed.  

Sasuke laid on the ground close to them, his blood a pool of red around him as the wind blew over the battlefield –more like massacre, Tobirama couldn’t help but think, a pang of sorrow rushing through his veins- lifting the dust and leaving the painful picture clear for all to see. They had lost and Madara had won.

It was ironic. The way a defeated air hung around the place, the one driving force one side had, lost in grief, ıt reminded him all too clearly of another battlefield. One where Madara had laid on his back and said, me or the village Hashirama. One which Madara had said those things, his sharingan spinning an entirely new shape in his grief and looked straight at Tobirama while doing so.

His breath had hitched lightly, his eyes turning to avoid the cursed red of the sharingan –cursed by gods, cursed for daring to love so very deeply, in a way that no mortal, no god had ever dared to and cursed for caring so much, enough to give everything for fleeting lives. Tobirama knew the feeling very well, in the blood that ran through his veins, in the way that his eyes were the same shade of red as the curse of gods, the beat of his heart as he held pieces of his younger brother in his arms… really, he should’ve known in the beginning- and felt something in him burn. Izuna may have had been an enemy but he was also human. They were at war and Tobirama had his own family to keep safe. He didn’t have to regret protecting his family.

Even if it was at the cost of another’s, for that was how life had dared to work, always so cruel against those who took the chance and thrived in it. 

He already had too many of those very same family’s blood on his hands because Hashirama was brilliant, a sea of hope in the midst of a thunderstorm, burning bright and beautiful and Tobirama could only hope to rest in his shores for some time, before he had to get up and stop the storm from breaching that sacred place, because even though Hashirama was impossible and brilliant and everything, he was only one men. And men were good at one thing above all. Falling.

Tobirama had to stop that, he had to interfere and help his Anija against the fate that was so very determined to stop him and if the cost was his own conscious, nights spent awake, feeling like his very soul would never feel together again and sitting up once more because he could never hope to be enough but that never meant he couldn’t try his best, that was his own problem.

Anija tended to overlook lives, tiny and insignificant as they were to him, for his eyes were burned and blinded by the future he was always marching towards but Tobirama was there to ground him and carry the burdens that grounding would normally lay on Hashirama. He had chosen Izuna for a reason.

Izuna was close to his power, so very close in chakra, maybe even in strength but Tobirama was an inventor and a seal master, he wasn’t known as the greatest suiton master ever seen for nothing. 

Izuna, just, didn’t match up. But Tobirama made it so, allowing the illusion of him being equal to power because if he didn’t, he would have to reach behind him and go full force, after revealing his entire power and skill set, there’d be no stopping for him, he’d be pushed to do it and not even Hashirama could try for his peace when so much of the Uchiha had been slaughtered by his own heir, no one would trust them.

İf the cost came with the Senju that Tobirama hadn’t been fast enough to protect while engaging Izuna, the ones he would’ve been able to had he already gotten rid of the other younger brother, then those were his own demons, hidden behind to be revealed at night, after everyone was asleep and the graveyard in his mind had been awakened once more.

His eyes snapped open as Madara’s hand clasped his chin, forcing his eyes to meet the Rinnegan and the shorter man leaned down slightly with an intense look in his eyes. “What have they done to you? I’m sure you could make the Edo Tensei work so much better than this. All they did was bring back you at  your last second. Truly pitiful like they are. I'm not surprised at all that they had to bring you back to fight me and still managed to mess it up.” Tobirama glared up at him, unable to retort because the Uchiha was right but also unwilling to let the slight against his village go while stubbornly denying the back handed compliment.

“As pitiful as your plan, I suppose? Or are you truly that gone in the head Uchiha? Your plan has so many loopholes in it that Anija could stick his head in it.”

Madara’s eyes twisted with fury even as he slowly caressed Tobirama’s cheek, a wondering look replacing the fury in the next second and making Tobirama question if it had even happened.

“That’s why you’re the one who plans things, Tobirama.” Madara murmured, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he leaned down even more. Tobirama struggled in his kneeling position, the callousness burning at him even as he hid the discomfort from the way Madara looked at him. 

Madara chuckled, his hand coming up to keep Tobirama in place and circled him. “You were always so beautiful when you got angry.” Madara stopped behind him, his fingers sinking into Tobirama’s hair and yanked his head back. Tobirama looked at him, his neck bent at an odd angle as pieces of paper floated in the air. “What are you talking about?” he said, trying to ignore the pressing feeling in his mind.

Madara always acted strange when Tobirama was around, Hashirama had said once. His eyes would focus on Tobirama and all his words would be for him, like he was literally unable to forget that the albino was there and that he existed, even for one moment.  His chakra would seek Tobirama out during the day and his questions would be pointed to Tobirama, something that made Hashirama wonder a lot. Tobirama had tried to ignore his Anija’s foolishness, instead thinking that it was Madara assessing the highest likely threat to himself, because it was so obvious that Hashirama wouldn’t hurt him, the bumbling buffoon.

Hashirama wouldn't hurt him? Like he hadn't killed Madara? Tobirama couldn’t help but question. Just like Madara hadn’t sometimes sought Tobirama out, his chakra exhausted and on the verge of something that Tobirama had never known what? Instead, his mind had been focused on trying to stop what had felt inevitable to him, always, always dangling just over their future and overwhelming. Because even if Madara hadn’t been so beloved by Anija, and hadn’t that always burned so deeply inside him, Tobirama respected the man. For his strength, maybe, for his ability to look past the Senju elders, always trying to manipulate everything, certainly, for his kindness with children , always. 

Tobirama was a man of practicality, he liked solutions and ideas, he liked his science and he liked building things –sometimes, in the midst of the night when everyone was asleep, he dared to think he’d have made a good teacher, a good adventurer, maybe even a good man. In another life. Good for life, maybe or maybe good for humans, perhaps even good as humans had decreed it, he didn’t know. He supposed he’d get used to not doing so. It was one of the first things he had resigned to never knowing, but certainly not the last (the last had been the question, will it ever truly end?)- he always liked kids and helping them. There’d been a certain joy to be found in imparting knowledge to others and knowing that, at least in that way, they’d be safer. Madara had always been that way, something that Tobirama had  known to respect in humans.

Madara was also complicated. Sometimes, they’d tear each other’s throats out and sometimes, it’d be silence in a winter midnight, something that could almost be called amiable between them as the snow rested on their faces and hair. Once, Madara had approached during that time, his hand slowly extending to brush against Tobirama’s cheek and he had muttered, snow is a good look on you, Tobirama. There had been the potential of so many things in that second, and perhaps they had taken that potential and used it, in another life.

Madara had left the other day, gone for a whole week before he returned, one last time, on the back of the Kyuubi and so very desperate. They had come across each other when Madara had waited for Tobirama in his room and there had been an unspoken question before his gaze had sharpened.  Tobirama had looked into the sharingan for the last time and into Madara’s eyes, the first. –the first time he had looked into the sharingan since he had when he was five and there was blood in the air and Anija was gone, gone, gone, missing and the very air was screaming with him and the world had cracked open, the fury of gods falling upon it with his loss, his desperation-

-a bargain was made that day-

“You, Tobirama, I’m always talking about you.” Tobirama’s breath got stuck in his chest, his mind on the cusp of something, a realization so dangerous, too much to even contemplate. Madara gazed towards the skyline, the mural of his victory laid out before him and a self deprecating smile painted on his face. “Always.” 

Tobirama didn’t want to hear it. Tobirama didn’t want to hear anything, he was dead and he was gone, he had done everything he could for this World and he had deserved his happiness, his end, his rest. If Madara wanted him so badly, he could join Tobirama –and Hashirama and everyone he had loved and lost because why was he trying to drag them back up to the very place that had destroyed them, why was he so damn selfish?- in the Pure Lands, saving everyone the pain and exhaustion. Why did he have to be so stubborn, so damn blind? If he loved them, then he could’ve come to them, because his time was over but Madara was always chasing the fleeting wasn’t he? And there was the problem, Tobirama thought bitterly, the man who loved him –he had felt that for a long time, but he would save the breakdown till later- was an Uchiha, the very epitome of loving the fleeting and cursing the ethereal, the endless.

Those eyes weren’t given for naught. 

Amaterasu, seeing their pain  and loss, had blessed the sad, fallen mortals with the chance to always remember their loved ones and in doing so, had also cursed them. There was a reason that Gods didn’t walk the earth anymore, didn’t interfere with their affairs.

-Gods could fall too-

 “Look at me. All the sights of the world, laid out at my feet and I can only look at you.” Madara turned his gaze back down to Tobirama, his hair swaying in the wind as he did so.

Tobirama stopped the imitation of breathing, all his senses focused on Madara. Why was he saying these things? Why now? The war was over, he had won, so why was he still playing this game? Tobirama had seen the way Madara had looked at him as he clashed with Naruto, the other Kage, always, a part of his attention was on Tobirama, he could feel it like the gaze of someone on his back, the feeling of a breath on his nape, with his everything. 

For once during the battle, his chakra had reached out, coaxing and playful and tried to intertwine with Tobirama whose eyes had widened, his attention turning to the Bijuu he was next to. He had departed right after, the idea of pressing the advantage forming in his head. Madara was somehow calm towards Tobirama, something that could’ve been used for their advantage and if Tobirama could give the others an advantage to press forward by making Madara focus on him, then he would. Madara had always been a creature of passion, someone who could easily focus elsewhere if one knew how to play him. It hadn’t worked.

The bright golden of Minato and Anija echoed in his senses as the silence continued, Madara having leant down and sat next to him. His arm raised, grabbing Tobirama’s hair once more and using it to angle his face to stare at Madara. Tobirama's eyes narrowed.

“Close your eyes, if it irks you so.” Madara gave a surprised laugh, the sound escaping with a strange timbre like he honestly hadn’t expected Tobirama to respond that way –and wasn’t that stupid, Madara always knew Tobirama had a sharp tongue, and was logically wary of it. Perhaps he had foolishly thought being in Madara’s hold would stop him from lashing with it, an idea fit for clueless people because Tobirama wasn’t one to bow to pressure.- and he threw his head back for a second before leaning down and crushing their lips together. 

Tobirama froze stiff, his entire being wanting to continue to reject the very idea of the situation yet his mind so very aware as Madara pressed impossibly closer, his eyes wide open and running over Tobirama‘s face reverently, the edge of something insane burning in them.

Madara slowly drew back, a satisfied smile on his face as he gave Tobirama a smug look. “I prefer to continue looking. You’re quite the sight, after all.” 

Tobirama looked back, something sharp in his gaze. He had never wanted any of this. He was tired of his life always being one battle, one challenge after another and just when he thought he was done, he had closure…

“I’d rather not to be looked at actually, especially by a madman who can’t even plan.” He bit back, his words trying and failing to mask his unease. Madara smiled and leant down, leaning his head against Tobirama’s shoulder and raising his lips to his ear.

“Always with the insults, To-bi-ra. Don’t worry, I’ll have enough time to look my fill. Right after I’m done with them.” Madara muttered, his body tensing once more. Tobirama lightly flinched at the touch of his horn against his neck, his instincts overwhelming him as he tried to ignore the words, to leave this world and go back to his tranquil existence of before. “Then we can be together, like we’ve always wanted.”

The chakra receiver through his head warmed lightly as Madara moved his hand over it and melted over his body, binding Tobirama more thoroughly than anything else ever could. The edges of panic peeked from his mind as they did, Tobirama having to fight an uphill battle to push them back

Madara was gone with the blast of a wind, his outrageous claims not seeming so stupid. Tobirama knew, there was no way they’d be able to win and Madara was just gloating his victory over them. Naruto was gone, truly honestly dead in the way that Tobirama could sense his chakra pooling out of his body, leaving an empty husk and he didn’t want to think anymore.

He didn’t want to think about what Madara was implying, didn’t want to think about how he wasn’t able to get free as long as Orochimaru didn’t set him -and he wouldn’t if he was trapped in an endless dream, Tobirama was well and truly stuck in a way he’d never been, had always avoided, even without the seals that had locked over his form and bound him to the mortal plane-  he didn’t want to think about losing once more –because no matter what was said, Konoha had been a loss. One that Tobirama had tried his best to salvage but perhaps, perhaps some things weren't meant to be saved.- about all the people who laid dead for a system that had been made to kill them in the first place, the system that Tobirama himself had failed in creating properly and thus, left them to their fates, sent them to their deaths.

Instead, he closed his eyes and let go, his mind soaring through nebulae and galaxies, starlight and  black holes with a pale moon lighting the way home.

#uchiha madara #senju tobirama #madatobi #YEET HOPE YOU LİKE #ANİJA İT'S ALL YOUR FAULT #UNREPENTANT ™ #from discord lmao #anija tag

[crystallized-shadow]

Follow Up For: Day 25 Pairing: Madara/Hashirama/Tobirama/Itama/Kawarama Rating: E Word count: 1718 Original Prompt: “You're in trouble now." Warnings: Mind the rating, vampire Senju brothers, vampire hunter Madara, blood, blood drinking, dub-con

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

“Did you ever imagine yourself in a position like this Hunter?” Hashirama teases, his fist tightening around the wild spikes in his grasp. Pulling the hair out of the flushed human’s face, the eldest vampire smirks at the blissed out expression. Madara’s eyes are hazy with pleasure, his mouth stretched obscenely around the tips of Hashirama and Kawarama’s cocks.

“Anija, shut up,” Tobirama grumbles as he snaps his hips forward, filling Madara just as Itama pulls back.

“Your voice is rather grating,” Itama agrees from his place under the human, nibbling along the pale expanse of Madara’s chest.

“Rude,” Hashirama huffs, yanking Madara’s head back enough that both cocks slip free.

“Ah!” Madara whimpers, squirming uselessly in the vampires’ grasp as both Tobirama and Itama strike his prostate at the same time. He was too lost in the sensations to even comprehend the words being spoken around him.

“He is remarkably docile now,” Kawarama muses, slowly stroking himself as he watches Hashirama thrust into Madara’s mouth, the human taking it to the root with barely more than a whimper. The four vampires had quickly learned that Madara was one of the lucky humans that experienced great pleasure from being bit, he could actually come from just the four of them biting him alone. Of course the brothers had ruthlessly abused that fact until they had the human begging to be fucked.

“Having your brains repeatedly fucked out does that to a person,” Itama chuckles, falling into rhythm with his older brothers so Madara is never empty, “especially one as sexually starved as this one.”

“He was probably one of those hunters that focused too much on killing our kind,” Tobirama states, smirking at the needy keen his next brutal thrust gets him.

“It worked out in our favor,” Hashirama points out, knuckles turning white as he twists the hair around his fists tighter and forces the hunter to meet the next violent snap of his hips. The hunter just moans, swallowing down the vampire’s release with a practiced ease.

“My turn!” Kawarama grins, shoving Hashirama out of the way and thrusting into the now empty hole. The younger Senju barely lasts a few thrusts, too aroused from watching his brothers fuck their hunter.

“Enjoy your hunt!” Itama reminds them with a smirk, making his older brothers sigh. The two brunettes share a look before they slowly fix clothing and leave to fulfill their turn at catching dinner; as delicious as Madara was, there was no way he could feed all four vampires thus the brother has to take turns.

“I thought they’d never leave,” Tobirama grumbles as he carefully sits up, making sure neither his nor Itama’s cock slips free from the human.

“You’re just grumpy because you’re hungry,” Itama teases as he mimics Tobirama’s movements so Madara settles between them, the new angle letting them thrust that much deeper into the hunter and drawing more mewling whines from him.

Tobirama doesn’t even try to deny the statement, instead he just leans forward and buries his fangs in Madara’s neck. Seconds later Itama bites down on the other side of the human’s neck and Madara spasms violently around their cocks, the force of his orgasm tearing a wordless howl from him. The sudden vice grip around them combined with the heavenly taste of Madara’s blood has Itama and Tobirama crashing over the edge of their own climaxes. Barely clinging to consciousness, Madara passes out before either set of fangs leave his neck.

“Madara?” The barely audible whisper is what finally drags Madara back into the land of the living and he’s momentarily thrown by just how clear his head feels. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t trying to think through a cloud of lust; damn those stupid bloodsuckers and their stupidly potent venom. Just knowing something is off is enough motivation for Madara to finally open his eyes. “Madara!” Getting past the white walls of what could only be the infirmary, Madara focuses on the only other occupant of the room.

“Izuna…?” He mutters, his voice cracking painfully as he starts coughing.

“Easy Aniki, you’re safe,” Izuna promises, carefully helping his older brother sit up enough to get a drink. “You’ve been unconscious for a week.”

“A week?” Madara repeats, unsure how to respond to that news.

“What do you remember?”

“Not much,” Madara mutters after a few seconds, “it’s all hazy. How long was I gone?”

“Nearly a month,” Izuna states, a dark look crossing his face as he continues, “I’ll never forgive those fanged fucks for what they did to you!!”

“What they did to me?”

“After we finally got a reliable lead, we found them balls deep inside you, fangs tearing out your throat!”

“Ah,” Madara mutters, unable to stop the flush from spreading across his face, he could have lived without his brother and fellow hunters seeing him like that. “So are they…” Madara trails off, his throat tightening painfully and preventing him from finishing even the thought of the Senju brothers being dead.

“Not yet,” Izuna promises with a bloodthirsty grin, “the two bastards we caught with you have been in the Sunning Room since we found you; the other two are still missing but we have no doubt they’ll show up soon.” After a beat of silence Izuna looks over at his brother and frowns. “Are you okay Aniki? You look pale, are your wounds bothering you?”

“I’m fi-” Marada clamps him mouth shut over the lie and sighs. “This is a lot to take in.”

“I understand,” Izuna says with a grim nod, “I’ll give you a few moments while I find one of the healers.”

“Thank you Izuna,” Madara mutters with a sincere smile that quickly disappears once he’s alone. The hunter wastes no time in throwing off the covers, briefly thanking his lucky stars that Izuna had thought to dress him in his regular clothes while he was unconscious, and bolts out of the room. The Sunning Room was a small cell on the far end of the compound designed to slowly expose vampires to the sun; depending on the weather a vampire’s death could be dragged on for weeks before they either combusted or starved to death.

Skidding to a halt outside the torture chamber, Madara can only stare at the two vampires bound in thick silver chains to opposite walls, forcing one to watch as the other slowly burns to death. He doesn’t even hesitant before throwing open the door and running to the vampire in the sun.

“Tobirama!” Madara exclaims, shoving his bare wrist in front of the wounded vampire’s mouth before the Senju even realizes there’s a shadow over him. The human doesn’t even wince as sharp fangs pierce his skin, but his panic does keep the usual arousal he feels at bay.

“Madara?” Tobirama questions once his hunger has ebbed enough for him to think straight and he can look up at the person currently protecting him from the sun.

“Thought you’d be gloating with the others,” Itama pants, his voice dry in a way that has nothing to do with his rather urgent need for blood. “Come to kill us yourself?”

“No.” The single word stuns both vampires almost as much as Madara quickly freeing Tobirama of the chains binding him.

“Explain, now!” Tobirama growls, tackling Madara into the shaded half of the cell and pinning him to the walk by his throat.

“You’ve never had as much control over me as you thought,” Madara states with a smirk, too at ease for being pinned by his natural predator, “your influence over me only lasted a week.”

“A week?” Itama repeats, greedily sinking his fangs into the wrist Madara casually offers him.

“That’s impossible,” Tobirama decides, narrowing his eyes as he squeezes the pale flesh tighter. “You would have left the second you were free of our control.”

“After a week I no longer felt compelled to listen to you,” Madara admits, “I stayed because I wanted to; I’m here because I want to be.”

“You, one of the best vampire hunters around, wanted to stay with 4 vampires?” Itama questions slowly, wondering if he’s already turned to ash.

“Yes.” With an easy grin, Madara brings the hand of the arm Itama isn’t licking clean up to stroke Tobirama’s cheek, “I find myself rather fond of you bloodsuckers.”

“Stockholm Syndrome,” Tobirama states, all but collapsing against Madara when the hunter drags him into a passionate kiss.

“Maybe,” Madara agrees with a shrug, carefully supporting the clearly weak vampire, “but do you really want to stick around here until someone tries to kill us so we can debate it?”

“I don’t think Tobirama has the strength to escape,” Itama grumbles as the hunter frees him. “He’s been in the sun longer than me and I think one of the other hunters stabbed him pretty good.”

“Can you escape?” Madara asks the youngest Senju once he’s free and the vampire nods. “Then go, I’ll get Tobirama out of here a different way.”

“If you are lying hunter, you will live to regret it,” Itama growls before he darts off faster than Madara can track.

“I need more blood than you can give me,” Tobirama rasps, his sudden burst of adrenaline wearing off now. Suddenly unable to support his own body weight, the vampire drags Madara to the ground with him.

“Take as much as you need,” Madara urges, grabbing a fistful of the vampire’s snow-white hair and pressing Tobirama into his neck. “I don’t care what happens to me, just drink.”

Tobirama tries to put up a fight, but the desire to feed is too strong and he sinks his fangs into Madara’s neck, dragging a startled gasp from the human. The vampire continues to drink, distantly noting that Madara has long since gone limp against him when he finally pulls his fangs free. Taking a moment to watch the shallow rise and fall of the strange hunter’s chest, Tobirama can’t help but smirk as he licks any lingering blood off his lips.

“You won’t leave us again,” Tobirama mutters to himself, cradling the human to his chest as he carefully stands up. Taking a moment to make sure he won’t collapse, Tobirama speeds off the second he hears Izuna approaching the cell.

#Crystal writes #drabble a day sequeal #obsidian #vampire au #Madara/Senju Brothers #Madara/Hashirama/Tobirama/Itama/Kawarama #madara uchiha #tobirama senju #hashirama senju #itama senju #kawarama senju #vampire senjus #vampire hunter madara #blood #blood drinking #stockholm syndrome #madara gets pleasure from being bit #dub-con-ish #izuna tries to save his brother #but madara doesn't want to be saved

[nara-marushika]

anonymous requested: usually submissive s/o trying to dominate madara & tobirama

a/n: i'm dumb and deleted this already answered request so i'm reposting this, sorry!

warnings; super n/s/f/w

[Uchiha Madara]

— Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. It's not in his mature to be bossed around. It doesn't matter how long you've been together or how much he trusts you, he won't let you dom him.

— You can take the lead and initiate the intimate with him, it's not like he doesn't want you to enjoy yourself. He needs to know you want him as much as he does. Scratch his back, pull him closer when he's pounding into you, whisper in his ear how much you want him. But don't try to dom him.

— He thinks is funny that you think you can get away with it, and he certainly enjoys the decisive look in your eyes when you straddle him and tell him you're in charge now. It really turns him on, but that's not to say he'll let you do what you want.

— He'll quickly grab your wrists with one hand, his tongue kissing your neck and the other hand sneaking to your core to slowly tease you. Swift fingers expertly delving into your your wet folds, his fingers avoiding to touch you were you need him the most.

— "What's the matter, y/n?" "Weren't you supposed to be in charge?" Right the he'd pinch your clit, your spine curving into him while your breathy moan would travel through him, all the way to his throbbing cock.

— He'd finally put his fingers inside you and expertly finding your weakest spot, rubbing you in all the right places, until you become a whimpering mess, desperate for release. He'll tease you and tease you, until you're unable to think straight and all you can do is for him to give you release.

— He'll only comply once your at the brim of tears, then he'll toss you against the nearest furniture, ass up and slickness covering your inner thighs as he finally pounds into you, his thickness stretching your walls. And his hand traveling to snake his way towards your throat.

— As he pants against your neck, he'll whisper, almost in a grunt. "Next time you try to pull that on me I won't let you come."

— You'll promise you won't, and he'll command you to beg for his cock, pleasure so close of bursting that you'll assure him that he's the only one I'm control, and that you need him so badly that you'd do anything.

— Finally satisfied he'll thrust into you one more time, perfectly hitting you in the right spot that will have you clutching at whatever you can, body trembling by the strength of your orgasm and legs ready to give in if it weren't for his tight grip on your waist.

[Senjū Tobirama]

— Nonononono, well maybe, just maybe, but not the first thing you try. The thing with Tobirama is too prideful to admit that the idea is pretty enticing. He has this idea of himself, and how he is supposed to act and what he is supposed to be.

— And a bottom it's not part of that idea. So he quickly denies you, and takes control. The thing is, that you've picked his interest, and granted, even if he were to let you, he'd never let you go out.

— Of course he won't tell you that he's been pondering ever since you tried. He's much more closed off with his needs so it takes him time to let himself go and really fuck, like hard. It took even longer for him to make love, cause he doesn't like to be vulnerable.

— So you'll have to keep trying to convince him, and probably, just probably you'll convince to let you take control. But only if you use the right kind of persuasion.

— I imagine he'll need to be pretty relaxed and somewhat tired, and perhaps you start touching him over his pants, he begins to get hard so you get on your knees and when you put down his trousers you hear him sigh as you take his member into your hands.

— And then when you take him into your mouth he's quick to go to grab your neck push you just the way he likes it. But you pin his hands at his sides with your own, and you pull his member out of your mouth ever so slowly, a slight 'pop' filling the air when you do so. And he gives you a confused, yet aroused look, but he doesn't attempt at breaking free from your grasp, and so you know this is your chance, so you give him a luscious look before putting him again into your mouth, your voice sending shivers through his spine. "Let me".

— It's hard for him to stay still, even more so because you keep edging him, he feels like fire is burning in the pit of his stomach, and he can't help the hitch in his breath when you twist your tongue around the head of his shaft.

— His vision blurs with lust, and he's about to go mad and just shove you hard against his pelvis, desperate for release. But you can feel his intentions, so you stop altogether. "Don't. Let me do this, I promise you'll feel real good if you don't fight it".

— And then you straddle him, your lips traveling to his neck to suck a patch of skin, your hands are still holding his still and you can feel his fingers twitch in anticipation when your kisses travel lower and lower until your sucking his hip bones. "Fuck it, stop it now."  He breaths through clenching teeth.

— And then you finally put him inside of you, your warm and tight channel engulfing his twitching member. Still straddling him you begin to bounce ever so slowly, his head is grown backwards and you're moaning as he hits you just the right way.

— But then he snaps, his hands going to your hips, and the towards your ass, gripping and relishing the feel of your skin against his skin. Yes, he has enjoyed the little experiment, but he's too eager to touch you, and when he bucks into you the loud help you let out it's enough to make him come in the spot, warm capitulation filling you.

— You're still wet and needy for your own orgasm when you feel his fingers deftly rubbing against your clit. Your breathing heavily increasing as you reach nirvana. "Beg for it". It's all he says through his lust filled eyes, and you're begging, finally reaching your so needed release. As you breath against his chest trying to steady your respiration you can't help but feel that for a first try it wasn't that bad, and you know that if you keep trying you'll eventually get with it all the way through.

#naruto imagines #naruto scenarios #naruto headcanons

[scenariosofkonoha]

Headcanons. Founders trio. What if their femso was someone they had initially rejected? But then they realised they love her after she moves onto another man who treats her terribly.

Hey Anon! This is really, very, truly every so long…I really hope this is okay. I really liked your ask and just sort of ran with it. So we’ve crossed Headcanons, away from scenarios and I’m pretty sure that this would be classified as an abridged fic…sorry about that…Anyway… added an undercut because of length but I really hope you like it! ~Admin Little Lace 🎀

Hashirama

“I love you Senju-sama,” the girl said bowing, the posture covering the reddening of her face. At such an honest admission, Hashirama grimaced knowing his answer was not in her favor.

Hashirama had known the girl most of his life. A playmate of Itama, she and her clan were allies to the Senju cause. He had always known her to be a quiet mousey thing. Shy but always very sweet, smiling at him whenever their paths would cross.

So it hurt him to be the reason that her sweet expression faded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words causing her head to pop up, wide eyes looking to him. “But I cannot accept.”

Hashirama is genuinely upset about not accepting. Not just because he is hurting her, but he does have some feeling toward her. It isn’t quite as deep as hers, however  he has known her long enough that he does care for her with emotion deeper than familial

The eldest Senju only denied her because he doesn’t want her to lose him much like they had Itama. The loss of her best friend and his brother hit her especially hard. The loneliness he suspects is the reason for her admission to him.

Though its hard for him he denies her. The rejection sets the two of them apart. Hashirama finds it best not to interact with her, not wanting to see the hurt he caused displaying on her face.

As the warring nations come to an agreement and the Village Hidden in the Leaves is brought to fruition, does he see her again. When the clans all come to call the village home, he see her. The same girl who would smile sweetly when they met, now all grown up and all together different.

Although, she had known to be more introverted, the girl had an adventurous side. She and Itama always in some sort of trouble. But as he watches her, he notices she is a little distant. War changes everyone that much is certain. And yet with her it is unsettling.

The girl keeps to the edges of cowards and seemingly separates herself from other friends she had. Hashirama, believing her to have some of “Battle Fatigue”, reaches out to her for the first time in years.

“Hello,” the dark haired Senju greeted jovially, not missing the flinch in her being.“Oh, um, hello Senju-sama,” she near mumbles bowing to him, her formality troubling. “What do I owe the pleasure of your company?”“My company?” his voice filled with laughter. “No need to be so formal,” the smile he gave not returned. Her eyes flickered around them, it wasn’t the look of a shinobi weary of attack,, but of prey in search of a predator. “Are you alright?”Nothing, nothing is wrong.” the answer too quick.“I didn’t ask you that-”“I have to go, Senju-sama,” the young lady dropped into another bow before just as quickly departing.

Her strange behavior only draws him to check on her. The man is a nurturer by nature. Always wanting to help and aid those he cared for. The once Kunoichi is no different, even if she makes his chest feel light and bubbly. The village leader tamps down the feeling, taking care of her is what Itama would have wanted. All the surfacing feelings doing wrong toward his memory.

The more he interacts with her, short conversations, and trading nods when passing, he begins to see interesting details about the family friend.

His companion tends to flinch if a hand is raised near her. The reflexive action shown to the eldest Senju when he rose a hand in greeting. A simply lifting of his hand sent her back pedaling away from him.

That wasn’t the only thing, her clothing had changed. Her boyish battle attire, with short pants and mesh was replaced with long flowing yukatas that she seemingly kept tripping over. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the sight, they were very becoming on her. But no matter how much he liked them, she looked increasingly uncomfortable as she tugged and pulled the garment back into place.

Slowly, the more the two see one another she comes to be the girl he remembered. His heart beat faster when her small shy small retrieved. The smile he catches in the market, slowly blooming as he stops to ask her about her day. The smile that graces him as he pays visit to her clan. And even the small tearful smile  he witnesses as she whispers to her friend’s memory at the Senju memorial.

With every moment they share, he grows more fond of her. Looking forward to every moment they can share together. But as she began to open up to him, suddenly she shut down.

Her frighten being pulled away from him without cause worrying him more. Their path no longer seem to cross, she was avoiding him. The abrupt parting causes him to sulk, his friend on the receiving end.

“She’s avoiding me,” Hashirama sulked, his head hung low as he and his friend made their rounds through the village.“That’s understandable,” Madara offered ignoring his friend’s ‘suffering’. As much as he wished to continue paying no mind to his friend’s mood. He could feel the shifting in the air next to him. Fighting a losing battle, he made eye contact with the elder Senju immediately regretting when he came face to face with signature depressed face. Groaning the Uchiha turned away. “Don’t pout.”“You’re ignoring me too.” the co leader whined tears welling in his eyes. His reactions drawing a bit of a coward. A coward that was giving Madara questioning looks. The attention was making him uncomfortable.“Look,” he said a bit too harshly. “If you are so worried, go check on her yourself. “As if nothing had happened, Hashirama brightened.“That’s a great idea,” he smiled. “I’ll go check on her now.” and with that the Senju marched away leaving behind a confused and deadpanned Uchiha.

With his decision set, he does go to visit her clan, who (as always) happily receive him. The family excited to  their powerful connection has come to wish good will upon their daughter’s upcoming marriage.

The news staggers him, but easily covering his shock,  he asks to see the future bride. Which they gladly accept. Upon seeing the girl, she is not the happy bride.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”But no matter how much he smiles, it doesn’t feel right. The smile forced, and her excitement also seems false.“You must love him,” the dark hair man teased, feeling the heaviness weigh on him. All his light hearted ribs were answered with a shifting of her yukata and shifting glances away from him. Her teeth worrying her lips, concerned him but he continued to try to lift her spirits. “Come now marriage can’t be so bad?”

His smile is returned with a single tear escaping the corner of her eye. The dark haired man took note of this but also that small black and blue spot peeking out from the collar of her clothing. “Yeah,” she answered almost too quietly, “not so bad.”

Although, he wants to investigate the matter, village needs pull him away from her. So he does not get to see her again until the annual festival. Where she is seen with her fiancée. The other shinobi seemingly alright to Hashirama.

The eldest Senju suffers from too big of a heart. His brother and friend not so much. Each of them watching her intended intently. Both of them telling him to go to her.

Madara very inconspicuously.

“Best go give my regards to your lady.”

Tobirama, on the other hand, is a little more forward.

“This is not what Itama would have wanted.”

Hashirama not sure how to process that statement goes to speak with her. But the conversation is railroaded by the girl’s intended.

“Pleasure to meet you,”“She’s told me so much about you,”“We are looking forward to the wedding.”“She’s so excited, aren’t you love?”

That turn of phrase he’s using. “Aren’t you love?” causes the girl to wince before she replaces it with a smile and a strained:

“Yes love,”

Sensing something a miss, he leaves them to their evening but something stays in the back of his mind. Only when he returns to his office do things click for him.

The shinobi often held her upper arm or shoulder. His thumb pressing against a spot on her neck, the spot where he once noticed that dark spot. A bruise…it was a bruise. With a sickening feeling in his stomach he went to the one place he’d know her to be.

“He’s hurting you,” the dark hair Senju spoke frightening his crying friend. The once kunoichi gasping turning from the memorial stone, to him. As a hand reached to adjust her clothing, it was stopped by his. Her eyes met his, letting go at the ask for permission in her eyes. Carefully Hashirama, moved the cloth aside. Dark eyes widened as they traced the path of small finger shaped bruises. They speckled her skin, traveling down her arm in no  particular pattern. Black spots over taken brown and yellow masses. The trend continued over her collar to her back, a fresh one reddening  one forming on her neck. But that wasn’t what had boiled his blood.No, what had driven Hashirama’s vision red, had been a trio of three finger shaped marks. Separated evenly with a bridging of blue as they slowly blackening, they rested just above her chest bindings. The Senju didn’t have to guess how those had gotten there. The only thing stopping him from ending the man’s life was the soft whimpering of her cries.Watching helplessly as her face crumpled under the weight of her despair, he pulled her to him. Unable to bear it any longer he pulled her to him. “I’m so sorry,” Hashirama whispered, into her hair.

She explains to him the situation. The shinobi had saved her life. Being a messenger-nin in a war claimed just as many lives as the front line. Though the one time kunoichi had been careful, she found herself discovered in enemy territory. The man she was now tied to, had come to save her. In exchange for saving her life, she humored his advances.

After a while they became more serious. The man coming to love her and wished to marry her. Feeling indebted to him for saving her, she agreed. When he became cruel to her she tried to leave only to find she was unable to. The man hurting her if she even thought about leaving.

“He calls them his little art works,” she sniffled, “ he gets angry when they fade away.”

The ninja is from an little known clan, new to the village. To further his career he had been taking on longer more difficult missions, allowing for her to be alone. The time coinciding with the times Hashirama saw her around more often. but as soon as her intended returned the man is constantly grabbing her too tight and threatening her. The amount escalating the more Hashirama came around.

“Sometimes I pray that he dies on his mission,” she gave a watery laugh. “I’m horrible, I know.”“You’re not horrible,” the Senju said, running his fingers through her hair.“I just don’t want this,” a sniffle came bringing with it more tears. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.

Hashirama promises to fix this as he returns her home.

Out of all of the village’s founding leaders, the eldest Senju is known as a jovial, sweet soul. He would sooner end his own life than allow someone else to be hurt instead. Most of the citizens of the leaf have seen, and chuckled, at his spontaneous behavior and outburst of depression. The man is seen more as an dear uncle than a fear inducing leader. That was left for Madara.

But that putting someone he cared about in danger that another story entirely. The elder Senju can develop a sense of ruthlessness when any of his loved ones are threatened.

The girl is considered in that category. He cares for her dearly, but he still tries to put back in his mind that this is all for Itama. His fallen brother would not have wanted his best friend to be hurt in such a way.

The justification not stopping the bubbly feeling that welled up in his chest when he thought about her.

Feelings aside, he has to rid her of her Fiancée. Between running the village and teaching, he has his reluctant best friend check in on her. Oddly enough, Madara takes pleasure in giving darks looks to the shinobi.

As the plan is set into motion, both leader’s call the man into their office.

Hashirama and Madara conveniently offer the man a mission to be a new envoy to the forming Nation of Wind. They go on to tell him how wonderful and prestigious the long term mission would be. The man is not thrilled.

“It’s a suicide mission,”

And he isn’t wrong. the clans of the land of wind have been in unrest, a few of which requesting aid to recreate a hidden village of their own. The Leaf have sent 3 envoys, each could no longer continue due to injury or death.

Now it wasn’t as if Hashirama wanted him to die. He’ll admit that he thought about it, but that wasn’t his endgame here.

“No…” the man trailed, a darkness tracing the humored look on his face. “It is difficult, yes, but not suicide. And with your record, we are sure you’d be up to the task.”“Unless you wish to, decline.”

For a shinobi to decline a mission there better be a good reason. Declining a mission simply wasn’t done. To say no was essentially putting yourself before the mission. Your thoughts and feeling above the safety of the village and your family. It was cowardly and came with a social stigma, that no ninja could survive. No one wanted to be on a team with a selfish, self centered person such as that.

“We are being unfair,” the Senju reasoned with the Uchiha. “He wouldn’t want to deny a mission. Not with the new family he is creating.” “Of course if he broke the engagement he wouldn’t need to worry about such a thing.” Madara answered. The statement caught the man’s attention.“What are you implying?” the man dared to ask.“Simple really,”  Hashirama begun, the levity in his tone disconcerting. “You can accept the mission and be more than able to support your new bride. Or deny it and receive all the consequences that comes with that.” Watching the nin pale, the Senju began to smile. His power play aligning. “Of course there is a third option…”“You politely ‘bow out’ of the mission and we forget this conversation, if you end your engagement.” Madara then smiles, the crooked action causing a chill in the air. Realizing he had been caught in a trap the man grows a little red, threatening to blow. But after all they have seen neither leader is afraid.“She’s very important,” Hashirama says smoothly. “And I know how you take care of things that are important to you.”  Darkness had taken over any facet of the usually bright man’s features. “You have your choices. Choose wrong and I promise you if I see her in such a state again, your next assignment will make you beg for the the sand.”

The gamble pays off. No matter how much the man claimed to love her, the threat of death or social isolation could not overcome that.

Being free from such an arrangement the kunoichi is forever grateful. With time, paitence and the support of a certain friend she come back to herself. She even returns to service as a messenger-nin. A job she proudly uses to help serve her heroes.

Over time, Hashirama’s feelings only grow. Feeling not of debt to Itama’s memory, but something a lot more. not being able to hold them back he calls her to the Hokage’s office.

“This is very formal, Hashirama.” she smiled entering the office.“It is an important matter, the man replied standing from his desk. The young lady gave him and questioning look as he made his way over to her. Her expression soon morphed into one of shock as the man bowed to her. the deep waist bow sending her into a frenzy.“Wait…what are you-”“I love you (Name),” the Senju proclaimed, mirroring the long ago day. “I hope that you can accept my feelings.” To his announcement he heard sniffling. Raising his posture, he was soon engulfed in her arms. Hashirama laughed as the girl fell into what he hoped was happy tears. “I take it you accept?” her head nodding into his chest brought a smile to the shinobi’s face.“I love you too,”

Tobirama

“What is this about?” the pale-haired Senju bristled. The kunoichi before him was keeping him from his work. He was so close to completing his teleportation jutsu and with the added research he may be about to-“I’m in love with you,” the woman spoke suddenly, the words breaking his thought cycle. Blinking, Tobirama began to question whether he heard her right.“You?”“Love you?” she questions back with a sheeky smile, “Yes.” The shinobi folded his arms leaning back in his chair. This was alot for him to process. She loved him? Why? “So?”“So?” he questioned back to her raising a brow.“Do you accept my feelings?” she lead.“No,”“I thought as much,” she sighed, the smile never faltering. “Thank you for your time.” with a bow and one last smile the kunoichi left him to his work. The younger Senju sat starring out the door that she had left. His head trying to wrap around what had just happened.

The truth of the matter is: Tobirama isn’t sure who she is. The man is so far into his research and training he sometimes doesn’t notice people in the village. His brother had grown used to it. Even his students knew at time getting his attention could be difficult.

So now with some girl confessing her love for him, he realized she escaped his notice. The man wasn’t sure how he felt abut that. A part of him was embarrassed. A great ninja he was trying to be, missed an entire human.

Another, far larger part, was confused. She was in love with him? How could she feel so deeply and he not know her? Had they ever spoken? How long had she been around?

The questions nudge his mind for a while. The nudge grows to a constant pondering, distracting him from his work. Constant pondering evolves into all consuming thought. The stalling in his work forces him to solve the mystery of his admirer. He makes the mistake of asking his elder brother.

“You really don’t know?” Hashirama ask after near whizzing for 5 minutes. His brother glared while the dark haired Senju wiped tears from his eyes. None of this seemed funny to him.

The reason for his  for his older brother’s laughter was simply this: the woman was apart of the newly founded research division. A division, Tobirama himself founded, ergo he had a hand in her appointment to the position….and works along side her.

Even his students know who she is…

Throughly embarrassed and now much more aware, he takes time to notice her. How she always has blank scrolls and his research materials neatly prepared on his desk. Or how eloquent and well thought out her notes are. Even as he spends long nights holed up in his office, he takes realizes how easy she makes the office and research library to navigate. Things he took for granted his assistant had been tending to.

But it isn’t just work related things. He notices her laugh, or how she rest her head on her hand when she is reading. Also how she gives him the same cheeky smile when they lock eyes.

The younger Senju begins to feel foolish for not seeing her. Now he makes more of an effort to speak to her, acknowledging  her presence.

“Thank you,” he said looking up from the latest version of his seal. The girl’s hand stayed on the tea cup looking to him in shock. Snapping into reality she gave him one of her signature smiles.“Anytime.”

There is a part of Tobirama that is till pondering over her admission. It’s not like he is self-conscious or anything. But, to his recollection, he has never interacted with her. So he isn’t entirely sure why she is in love with him. in his mind, you’d have to have had a decent conversation to being love right?

To investigate the theory, he begins to speak with her. the conversations is stiff and either very formal or entirely informational. Usually speaking in such a way would cause any companion to give him a glassy-eyed look. But she engages with a look of wonder and a smile.

A smile he had grown used to. Whenever she returned from missions, handing off info on newly discovered jutsu or bringing him tea on late work nights. Each time she gifts hi one. It had become something he was looking forward to.

Until the day it wasn’t there.

“Good morning,” he greeted to her. Taking her eyes away from her work she nodded, no smile to be seen.“Morning.”

It was small but the interaction bothered him. Deciding against simply asking her about it, the pale-haired Senju decided to do what he did best. Research.

What Tobirama would call ‘research’, other’s would call snooping. Or the beginning stages of stalking. He follows her. As interesting as seeing her out of their work setting is, something he discovers unsettles him.

She now has a significant other. The information shouldn’t bother him. It had been sometime since her confession and his denial. But something about it made him increasingly unsettled about it.

Questions started to buzz around his head once more. Did she love them? How long had they been together? Was she happy? Did she still love him?

The last question he quickly dashed away before focusing on the former. This his research became more extensive. (Stalking…it’s just stalking.) At first he felt wrong about it, her personal like was none of his business. And yet the less she smiled the more he followed.

The other man seemed pleasant enough at first.Holding her hand and joking around wit her. But he noticed how she wouldn’t walk her home. It seemed silly but it was something that got under the stoic man’s skin.

The other man also seem to be half listening to anything she said, and if she spoke for too long he’d berate her with:

“Are you finished yet?”

With each snide remark, and dismissive gesture he could see the light in his girl diminish.

What he couldn’t wrap his head around was why she remained with him if he pushed her away. It didn’t make any sense. Tobirama knew her to be a logical sort wouldn’t reason state that  they weren’t meant to be together?

Due to his stalking research, he can’t come our and ask her about it. So he has to unfortunately wait and watch as she dims.

But he offers to walk her home, stiff postured as they go. He’s not sure what he is doing but she seems to be happier if only slightly.

And then one day during research he witnesses them argue. Well one couldn’t very well call it an argument if one side isn’t saying much at all.

“Kami, no one cares about your stupid scrolls. You embarrass me every time you open your mouth.” the man scoffed  as his girl looked at her feet.“I’m sorry I-”“Stop saying sorry, you’re so annoying.” he continued.“Hey I’m sor- I just don’t-” she stumbled. The intelligent, confident woman, the shinobi knew wasn’t this way. Not tripping over words and red-faced in the middle of the thoroughfare.  “Don’t leave.”“Pfft, I’m not leaving.” Tobirama watched disgustedly as her posture actually eased. “But I should. No man would want to have a girlfriend as pathetic as you.”

Murder is the first thing on Tobirama’s mind. The only thing stopping him is that he couldn’t very well kill a man over words. But that is the final straw.

“Oh,” she sniffled from behind her desk, wiping her eyes, “Senju-Sama I-”“You’re very intelligent. And I enjoy everything you have to say and so do others.” The pale-haired Senju cut in.  His arms crossed over his chest. His taciturn expression covering for his embarrassment. “You are brilliant and beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you as their partner.”The kunoichi’s face lit up pink as she sniffed, wiping away stray tears. “you heard that, huh?”“It was hard not to,” the honesty of his answer causing her to look away. Sensing his chance, he asked the question playing in his mind. “Why would you want to be with such a person?” with a humorless life she shook her head.“He wasn’t always like this…”

The woman tells him that her boyfriend had been nice at first. Being sweet to her after an unfortunate event. He’d made her feel better and taken her out. Said he was fond of her and they began to date. Soon everything that he claimed to like about her seem to make him angry or embarrass him.

After a while she began to believe what he said. At this point in their relationship she felt as if she needed him.

A sinking feeling settled in his chest when Tobirama had put the time line together. Her unfortunate event had been his rejection. A rejection he was now regretting as his feelings came into bloom.

“It’s silly, but I’m just hoping he’ll be like he was int he beginning. Work must be stressing him out.” The thoughtfulness in her tone sought to enrage him.“He won’t change,” the shinobi corrected. “I now you are smart enough to see that,”  with that he left refusing to entertain such foolishness.

Tobirama doesn’t want her to hurt. that is the last thing he wants. So  if she wants to be happy with this man, who is ‘under stress’, he’ll confront the man. Just to see how stressed he really is.

Going to speak with him involves the stoic man witnessing the girl’s significant other aggressively flirting with some other woman. Gracefully, without hitting the man, the second to the Hokage confront him about his behaviors. Only to be laughed at.

“Why do you care? Weren’t you the one who rejected her?” The man asked daring to laugh at him. Still remaining the better person Tobirama made to leave, the stern words of “Treat her better,” in his wake. he hadn’t gotten very far when the man added.“You lucked out, had I known she was this annoying I would have rejected her too.”

The man, though brave, is not a shinobi. For if he was he would have understood the reputation the Senju had. If he was he may have had the level of self-preservation to have shut his mouth. but since he wasn’t he found himself unconscious on the floor.

Tobirama if not a very emotional person. He is not very in touch with his feelings. So sometimes they all come out at once. In this case in a punch his opponent had not seen coming.

Is he ashamed? A little, he never liked losing control. Does he regret it? No, not at all.

After ‘the happening’, his assistant comes up to him in their office.

“I heard about what happened.”“And?”“Thank you,”“Anytime.”

Things stay the same for the two. Both of them falling into harmony they had built. But now it would seem she couldn’t walk home without him taking her. He often takes her out to eat as well.

Slowly the smile he loves returns, as she acts more like herself in his company. the man going out of his way to spend time with her. One day she asks:

“Why are you spending so much time with me?” the question coming over their shared dinner at a small eatery.“Because I enjoy it,”  he answered pointedly not looking at her. Even without looking at her, he could hear the smile she gave. “It goes both ways,”‘ he responded sounding grumpy into his rice.“Well I love you, I’d hope I enjoyed spending time with you.” those three words had not been mentioned since her initial confession. They brought to mind an unanswered question.“Why?”“Why?” she echoed before giving a look he had never seen before. She was blushing. “Well, I love how smart you are. Everything makes so much sense when you explain it. I love how you are with your students. Those kids are going to be fine shinobi under your care,” a thought bringing a chuckled from her. “if they survive your lessons. I love how you are with your brother,” the very mention of the man brought on an eye roll from him. “I know you care, You going out of your way to help him is amazing. but What I think I love most is your smile.” Her final reason brought him pause. His smile?“I’ve only ever seen it once, but when I first saw it that’s when I knew.” the dreamy look in her eyes faded as focus snapped to him. “Oh…um…I’m sorry, rambling again.” she apologized red-faced. “I guess what I mean to say is I love you for a lot or reasons.”Tobirama nodded returning to his food. The ever present heart beat, pounding incessantly  in his throat. Breath seemed hard to catch. Almost too quietly he said, near breathlessly. “I love you too.”

Madara

“Um…Madara-San?” she asked tapping his shoulder. the Uchiha turned, his attention to the girl. Her face burning as she held out a red note. Giving her an odd look he took it before she ran off. Unfolding the missive, exception some sort of emergency information from Hashirama, Madara read it. Dark eyes widened as the words came to light.

I love you, I have for a while not. If you feel the same, please meet me at the old tree near the training ground.

Speechless the dark haired man folded up the letter, placing it in the pocking hidden by his chest.

Madara never goes to meet her.  It isn’t as if he doesn’t know the girl. the war time orphan that had taken up ranks within the Senju. He was well aware of her, the girl often found training with Hashirama.

As a matter of fact she was never very far from Hashirama. The Senju’s eye sparkling and showering her with praise whenever she so much as blinked correctly. There hadn’t been a day gone by that his friend didn’t speak of the girl to him.

“Her training is progressing beautifully.“She has a chakra affinity of fire, like you.”“Her Taijutsu could use some work, you could help.”“You two would make good training partners.”

The near daily reminder of how highly the man thought of the girl was driving the man mad. But also clearly spoke of how he felt. Only speaking of his brother in such a fashion, it became apparent to the Uchiha that Hashirama was in love with her.

Not wanting to hurt his friends, or see him pout, he thought to leave it as it was. Best not get the girl’s hopes up by only to dash them upon arrival.

Not matter what was said about his clan, Madara was not heartless. e liked the girl. Through their training together and various conversations, he found her company enjoyable. Once could even say he had grown attached.

But his feelings, whatever they were, could not manifest any further while his best, and near only, friend held a candle for her. He would not test their friendship over and infatuation with her.

With his vow not to pursue her set, Madara tries not to interact with her. Trying his best not to foster anything between them. His plan seems to work as his distance pairs her with Hashirama. The elder Senju spending more time with her.

The distance wears on the Uchiha though. Not one to generally open up to people, the loss of his training partner is a shock to his social system. Thus making him a bit less of himself.

The cycle of loneliness  would continue until his friend comes to him.

“I don’t like him, the snippet of Hashirama’s words came. Effectively breaking though Madara’s concentration. “Who?” the bushy-haired man asked, his meditation coming to an end.“Weren’t you listening?”“No,”“You never listen to me,” the Senju clan leader sulked, now sitting in fetal position. Unfortunately foe him, the Uchiha would have to entertain such behavior if he wanted answers.“On with it man,” he was not in the mood for idle gossip. But if the big hearted Hashirama Senju didn’t like someone, the information had to be worth listening to.“(Name)’s new suitor,”“Suitor?” Madara no longer pretended t be disinterested. she had someone else? Well, it would be no wonder his friend didn’t like the man.“Yes, he’s a snake,” he grumbled, “I don’t like him.”“Can’t be too bad,”“Can’t be trusted, the dark hair Senju said pensively. “I don’t like him.”“So you’ve said.”“You’d say the same if you’d met him.”“Why because he isn’t you?” A pause came before his friend unceremoniously broke into laughter. Madara knew it wasn’t funny. “Aren’t you in love with her?”The laughing goes on for quite a while. Longer than the Uchiha is comfortable with. Thankfully when eh is finally done laughing, Hashirama explains.“Don’t be silly, she’s like a sister. No friend, she’s in love with you.”

The informations confuses Madara. and only seems to make the elder Senju laugh more as eh explains all of what he had done had been for his friend’s benefit. Fruitless as it had turned out.

Angered with himself, the Uchiha instead turns to her confirming his thoughts.

“You’re in love with him?” the man asks, his abrupt entrance into the training fields causing the girl to jump.“Oh…um… I’m sorry? I-”“You have a new intended?”“Yes?” the rapid fire questions confusing her.“Do you love him?”“Well… I-” she stammered. The sudden interrogation seemed to be a  bit much for the girl. “Not yet, he’s very nice and he loves me.”“Hm.” he answered monosyllabically. “Training tomorrow, same time.

The Uchiha believes the matter to be settled. In his head if the matter is settled, they can go back to life as usual, evening training and speaking regularly again. Over time he even feels comfortable enough to seek her out, meeting outside of their schedule times. The man wants her company again, emotions be damned.

Madara isn’t one fore  the petty emotions like “love” or “jealousy”. Plus it isnt as if she is still in love with him.

Though the may not claim any feeling toward her, he can’t help them sneaking up on him as he new beau comes to her after training.

Just as the Senju, he senses something a miss with the other man. Sure he is nice enough and comes across as in love with the kunoichi, his words and actions bring unease to the Uchiha leader.

The man comes earlier and earlier to their training.Going from picking her up to near supervising. The constant vigilance throwing the girl out of focus. The distractions allowing for mistakes and life threatening missteps.

The man also seems to be little her efforts with her training. Not outwardly but more that once the shinobi catches:

“Training isn’t that important right?”

Foolish words always covered by.

“I just want to spend more time with you. I love you.”

That last bit. the words “I love you,” had been flung around a bit to liberally for Madara’s test. They were endearing or heartfelt. They were almost seem to be covering for something or to push her into doing something.

Even if it were something she didn’t want, the other man could breathe those words and she would readily go along with the ideal. The change sickening to her training partner.

The strong kunoichi he knew should not be bowing to a man that she could snap like a twig. But each time he spoke, she would follow.

When she stopped attending training he grows concerned, and seeks her out.

“Retiring?” he was unable to keep the incredulousness out of his voice.“It’s not uncommon, Uchiha-san,” everything about her seemed ‘uncommon’. From her gentle tone, to the way he said his name, everything was wrong. “Most women who participated in the war have retired.”“You mean fought?”“Oh…well yes…that.”“It seems sudden,” he replied trying his best to  angle himself to catch her eyes.“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and he says he’ll take care of me.” The mention of ‘him’ had put an end to it.“Right,” Madara answered, skepticism heavy in his tone.

Madara is not going to question her. Her decision are her own even if he doesn’t agree. If she wishes to retire he isn’t going to stop her, no matter ho many time Hashirama pushes him to.

When she quits teaching however is when the Uchiha has to intercede. She loves her students, the kunoichi continuously speaking of them and what they are learning. Once even asking Madara to join her class.

“They’ll love you, not to worry.”

Though he had never taken up on the offer, he took pleasure in how happy it made her. With the addition of how she was never afraid to speak to the scary looking man.

The new events finds the man at her door but he isn’t alone.

Caged by the body of an unknown man against her door, the Uchiha watched as the man caressed her face and whispered into her ear. He couldn’t quite believe she was the sort to have dalliances with two men. That is until he witnesses the uncomfortable look on his companion’s face.

How she grimaces when the man kisses her cheek and leaver her. Casually as anger would allow, he asks upon her newest suitor, the answer he receives serves to break him.

“No, he’s a friend of my lover, but he seems nice enough and he says that he like me too. He may even love me.”

Sick to his stomach at the new information Madara goes to her “Love,” having questions about his friends that were in love with his so-called love.

Now like Hashirama, Madara’s feelings do sit on the surface. He feels emotions just as deeply but as mastered not expressing them. With years of training, he had learned to cover them up under a scary demeanor he wears.

So when the man and his friends laugh about how each “having a go” with her, it takes all of a few seconds before the floor is speckled with their blood. The altercation couldn’t even be considered a fight.

After carting them off tot he medical building, and receiving a stern “talking to” from Hashirama. (Holding said Senju back when he hears the particulars of the beating, and then both receiving a lecture from Tobirama about tact) the Uchiha returns home to a furious kunoichi.

“What have you done?”

He had never heard her raise her voice, much less raise a fist toward him in anger. Never one to back down from a fight, the two spar, the Uchiha expertly deflecting her haphazard attacks. Not hard to defend, the more emotional she gets, the easier it is for him to pin her.

“He loves me,” she weeped her arms pinned about her head. No matter of struggling was going to get him to let her go.“That’s what you think love is?” though his voice calm, the underling note of fury was palpable. “A man passing you around to his friends?” Madara seethed pressing her into the wall.“How would you know?” she screamed at him, her crying cut off by his lips pressed to hers. The kiss was not gentle, it was harsh like the man. But it didn’t hurt as she had grown used to. There was passion there as he held her, the firm grip on her not to injure or bruise. Breaking away she could see the same breathlessness had over taken him as well.“No man that loved you would want to hurt you.”

As the kunoichi eases back into the life she had known free of the overbearing shadow of her former lover. The emotion-less Uchiha making certain of it. The man grew to be her support, always at her side whenever old feelings or insecurities arose.

Though he may not show it in a traditional sense, he will tell her he cares whenever she asks. Hashirama is better with constant reassurance than Madara.

Yet due to his proximity with her, she attaches herself to him. Although there is a pat of him that knows that the new behavior could bloom to be unhealthy, he does nothing to stop it. If anything he fosters it by walking close to her and letting rumors spread.

It takes baby steps, but with support of her friends she grows not to be so fragile any longer. Her reliance on her friends not as crucial and  she is emotional strong enough to emotional stand on her own. Even with all her strides toward a better self, she remains close to  Madara.

The Uchiha still finds her  to ask her opinion on something, assists her in training, returns to her first when coming from a mission and comes to her class to instruct the little ones. If she finds it strange she doesn’t question it, and he won’t say anything either. The man likes the way things are and prefers to keep it that way.

“I’ll walk her home tonight,” Hashirama offers after class had let out for one evening.“That’s alright,” Madara assured, looking toward his girl. “We will be fine, hm?”“Yes,”  she answered. With a brightness the elder Senju had not seen since her initial rejection, she smiled. As the two walked away, Hashirama noticed as the kunoichi’s have took hold of Madara’s sleeve. His friend then graced her with one of his rare smiles. In that moment, Hashirama had felt he had missed a very key element to the story. Were they…? He couldn’t really say, but with a sly smirk he made his way to his family compound. Thoughts of when, if ever, his friend would admit his feelings flying around in his brain.He suppose he would have to wait, either way, he was taking credit for such a match.

#ask #asks #naruto imagines #naruto headcanon #naruto #naruto scenarios #naruto fic #naruto headcanons #Hashirama Senju #Senju Hashirama #Hashirama #hashirama scenario #hashirama head canon #hashirama x reader #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #Tobirama #tobirama headcanon #tobirama scenario #tobirama x reader #madara uchiha #Uchiha Madara #madara #madara scenario #madara headcanon #madara x reader #founders trio #founders trio headcanon #founders trio scenarios #founders trio x reader

[belit0]

Hokage

Pairing: Uchiha Izuna / Senju Hashirama

“We should tell him.”

“Just shut up and ahhg-“

Two huge hands sink into Izuna’s hips as his lover pushes him down, claiming dominance over his body more profoundly.

His forehead rests on a broad tanned shoulder from the Senju who rocks his shape, sizes so different in comparison Hashirama makes him straddle him for fear of crushing his form if he lays beneath him. Izuna knows it’s an excuse, verbiage from the first Hokage to manhandle him as he likes, use the force difference to lift him up as if he weighed nothing and ease him back onto his cock.

It’s not like the Uchiha can complain. Not exerting himself and being consumed by this enormous tree he has as a partner is a privilege only he can afford.

Attention returns to the world as the possessive grip disappears away from his waist, and Hashirama puts both of his hands behind his head, leaning against the bed’s backrest.

How rude. Just as Izuna is about to finish.

“Hokage-Sama please, I’m almost there, more...”

If Senju wants him to beg the way he likes so much, he’ll do it, for being denied to cum is something he’s been suffering for the past hour and it’s not fair. Who would have thought Hashirama could be so dominant during intimacy?

“Are we telling him or not?”

“Yeah! We will definitely tell him!”

“What is that?”

“Yes, sir...”

“Good boy.”

The movement resumes as his hips slam upward, lifting Izuna with his hands as if he were a puppet. The Uchiha clings with his fingernails to his partner’s massive shoulders and feels the long-desired orgasm coming, almost, almost....

THUD

Door is kicked down and Izuna’s climax postponed again, but not because of his lover. This time it is his older brother who deprives him of his pleasure. 

Madara enters the room spewing smoke from his nose, hair more disheveled than usual and a vicious Sharingan spinning violently.

“HASHIRAMA WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH I-“

From behind, just as disheveled and angry as the Uchiha leader, Tobirama walks in, smacking on the head whom he had been chasing all over the village to avoid ending up just... here.

“Anija, regretted to report this jerk’s insistence is merely something you can deal with.”

Both of them try to catch their breath, while on the bed both lovers continue to be connected body to body. A single sheet covers Izuna’s ass, falling over both of their laps. But the position, the nudity, and the marks on both torsos are quite obvious.

Izuna would have stood up to calm his brother, who has just discovered his months-long secret relationship with his best friend. This is the worst-case scenario for it to happen. Well, maybe not, posing could have been worse.

Only Hashirama’s commanding hands keep him fixed in place, unable to move, still full and about to orgasm in front of three men.

“Madara, we were just discussing with Izuna about sharing with you about our bond!”

Senju has the audacity to grin with all his teeth, as if his cock wasn’t inside a person.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM YOU FILTHY FUCKER THIS VILLAGE WAS A MISTAKE I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU AGO-“

“Anija, I entrust you to take care of this other business after you wrap up... that.”

Tobirama announces as he drags the Uchiha leader out of the room, a deep blush on his face after realizing the situation.

“Oh, but, Mady, don’t you want to stay and watch me finish off your little brother?”

Wow.

Izuna never thought his beloved’s dark attitude extended outside the privacy of the bedroom, but that’s proof enough.

There’s no door to close anymore, yet there is suddenly silence in the house again, a sign of Tobirama using his Hiraishin to get rid of the annoyance.

“So? Now what are you waiting for, little tiny thing? Gonna cum or not?”

#hashiizu #senju hashirama #hashirama senju #hashirama #uchiha izuna #izuna #izuna uchiha #hashirama senju x izuna uchiha #senju hashirama x uchiha izuna #uchiha izuna x senju hashirama #izuna uchiha x hashirama senju #uchiha clan #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto founders

[masshirohebi-moved]

@peepingtoad​ asked:  ✘ - to wipe tears away from my muses eyes

Affections Starter ✘ - to wipe tears away from my muses eyes The sound of glasses recklessly colliding together is easily heard amid the general loud chattering of nearby shinobi. And it is to no ones surprise, that every bar is packed tightly with those sporting headbands. The wars arrival after all, was inching its way closer with every rise and fall of the moon. There would only be two left, in fact, before that daunting day was upon the fire nation. So where else would these people find comfort? But at the bottom of the glass they clumsily walk about with. It is nervous energy, but excitable all the same. They should never have come out, when they had felt something more suffocating gripping at their chest. The promise of alcohol however had been too great a tug to ignore, and the empty and quiet apartment had begun to feel stifling. So here they are, slender fingers coiled around the neck of a bottle.  Jiraiya had bought it, generous as ever, passing it to his friend before they have to ask. That is the usual routine, this time however, the scent of the drink has their stomach twisting. They know themself to be a lightweight, but not a single drop has touched their tongue during the evening. So they force themself to take one sip, urging themself to at least try and create a distraction. The moment the taste greets them however, they have lifted the bottle away. Not even sake was to their liking tonight. 

The table Jiraiya has taken them to is the least loud. Everyone is drinking, everyone is keeping conversation light. An unspoken rule, to at least try keep normality alive, until the hands of war no longer allow that freedom. Or are these only thoughts plaguing them? For as far as their golden eyes can see, everyone is seeming far too happy. Far too at ease. The magic of alcohol, or the trick of the ignorant. They were always taught they think too much, they were always warned that it was less a mark of intelligence than it was self destructive. “Come on, smile.” It takes them a moment to realize the comment is aimed at them, the man opposite offering his most chipper smile in return, “your face won’t crack, I promise,” he adds, trying his best to coax some kind of positive reaction from the viper, though he succeeds only in the opposite. A few more minutes pass, before the serpent has taken to their feet to move. Slipping around Jiraiya who was caught in a conversation with the kunoichi beside him. Debating some topic they both swear they have more information on. Even in a debate, Jiraiya manages to seem more friendly and upbeat than the viper does sitting quietly by themself. But they don’t quite make it away from the table, when the man from before tries once more to lift their spirits, offering the bottle he had purchased to be shared. An attempt they neither appreciate nor have patience for. He persistently offers regardless, “you’d enjoy the conversations a lot more if you were as drunk as everyone else,” he jokes lightly. They hiss a ‘no thank you’, but he offers for them to try his drink, then if it was too strong, his friends drink. The pestering, the cornering, it has the serpent feeling trapped. Their ability to calmly remove themself from the situation is beginning to seem less possible. The woman speaking with Jiraiya has begun to laugh, evidently swayed from her point, the debate ending in his favour as she rolls her eyes at her defeat in good nature. But whatever peace Jiraiya had managed to craft between him and his fellow shinobi shatters when several glasses on the table do. And suddenly, they are not the quietest booth anymore.

The table is roughly shaken, as the serpent pushes passed it and the man who had tried to life their mood. It has one bottle rolling, crashing to the floor when it spins off the table. Their slender form has already arrived at the door, which slams open with an equal measure of volatile impatience. Dark streets barely register in their mind, neither does the figure following behind them. A concerned friend, abandoning his drink, abandoning his chance at one last day of normal drinking. “Leave me alone Jiraiya,” they say impatiently, fumbling with the keys to their apartment, almost missing a step as they get to the third flight. They wrestle with the lock, but their hands have begun to shake. They pin it down to anger, as they try slotting in the key once more, only to be met with it jamming, “I don’t want to talk,” they snap, their breaths are quickening, their entire body mimicking their hands now. Shaking, a chill in their chest, a different kind of cold than winter may bring. “I don’t need you checking up on me every two seconds, I’m perfectly fine on my- damn it!” they bark, the key snapping to the side one last time before anger has them merely lobbing the metallic bunch at the door. Where it smacks in to the wood only to ricochet back at them. The sting of the metal grazing their hand has them slamming in to the door with open palms instead. As if their temper tantrum may unlock it. They find themself being pulled away however, perhaps because he didn’t want the loud sound of someone throwing themself at their door to awaken the peaceful area, perhaps because they surely would have hurt themself if they kept that up. It only has them slamming against him next, to push him away as they find their back pinned to the apartment wall, their hands restrained. Enough time to see they had already formed bruises on their pale skin. Something he had evidently seen with far quicker and keener eyes. “Go back to your fucking drinks, with everyone else who wants to spend their last few hours retching it all back up come morning,” they hiss, not usually one for profanity. But they are not one for shaking either, not one for panicked breaths, certainly not one for tears. And although they would love to cast it aside as tears of anger, and they do a splendid job of wrathfully getting people to believe it, they seem unable to quite convince their friend he ought to let them go. That he ought to take their word for it. Golden eyes avert the moment they realize there is a dampness to the bright hue, nails digging in to the fabrics of his clothes, and whatever skin was not securely covered by the material. He doesn’t demand an answer, he doesn’t ask them for any reason or explanation. But they can not help confessing, their voice dipping in to something quiet and withheld. “We’re going to war-” A coward. That is what they profess to being. They are not the only one being sent out on to the battlefield, this is not the first battlefield they have been lead on to. Yet all the same, war has been painted so vividly in their mind. Has haunted them since the day their parents changed from people to bodies. They lift golden eyes up this time, but they can not tell if they are pleading or simply unable to stop the surfaced onslaught of emotion. “-and I’m terrified.” Because they may be gifted, but how many greater shinobi had died before them? The world had watched the end of many more powerful shinobi, Hashirama, Tobirama, Madara, Toka. There were legends from varying clans, high ranking figures that were sworn prodigies. For no matter how powerful the shinobi, the daunting prospect of war could not be overshadowed by talent. Relentless enemies, ongoing combat - there would be thousands. Their lips form a tight snarl, clenching their jaw to try and steady their repeated muttering, shaking their head to both rid the tears, and deny the universe their life; “I don’t want to die.” The finger that gently removes the traces of sadness from their eyes, the strong arms that bring them closer to his body, where they can bury their face and give in to self pity for a moment... it all seems to answer them with a stern yet tender; ‘you won’t.’

#||●ANSWERED-❝disclosed❞ #peepingtoad #/long post #he ck #that got too long mate

[tobiblack]

In the space between doors a heartbeat lasts an eternity

Tobirama had expected to die, but he hadn’t. The world had moved on as if he had, even if he was caught at just surviving out of spite.

It left him out of sorts and at a crossroads.

#Alternate Universe – Canon #Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence #Alternate Universe – Tobirama survives

#This is me being unable to NOT touch upon the fact that Tobi’s got Issues™

DIRECTLY AFTER time is an illusion casting shadows in cracked mirrors

Tobirama was sitting in some bed of the hospital, alone with Mito.

His sister-in-law had sent his team fleeing with one hard-eyed look and orders to go retrieve Tōka from her self-proclaimed exile inside his brother’s overgrown not-so-friendly garden that the village had called the Forest of Death instead of Area 44. Kagami had looked fit to argue, with his eyes a dark red, but Danzō had dragged him off with a whispered conversation Tobirama didn’t quite catch.

Absently, he had tracked their chakras through the village, heading to where his cousin could only faintly be felt while surrounded by her favored summon, that humongous albino Bengal tiger named Byakko she’d always liked to joke was a lot like him if he’d been born a cat. Mito brought his attention right back to her with a snap.

“You have a choice, Tobirama, right now to make. The village thinks you dead; our whole world thinks that Tobirama Senju, Nidaime Hokage, died in the last battle of the Shinobi War. I know that the duties of Hokage have laid heavy on you these seven years since Hashirama died. I myself have only lingered in Konoha so long for you and my sons, and have made it clear that I will be leaving for Uzushio as soon as Hiruzen is settled in as the Sandaime. If you wish to join me, you are welcome to, the Uzumaki will welcome you as a distant cousin and as my brother-in-law.”

She placed her hands over the seal on her stomach containing Kyuubi.

“If you stay, you still have a choice to make. Let Tobirama Senju, one of the last survivors of the Warring States, die, and choose to do something you want to do with the rest of your live, other than being a weapon. Or return to how things were - as either the Nidaime or maybe an advisor of Hiruzen. You need to make some sort of decision soon though, before anyone realizes that you survived and the choice is taken from you.”

He watched as she tweaked the seal as she talked, letting the edges of her chakra blur into the Kyuubi’s, which was normally hidden to the point where it was really only because he knew to look that he could sense the Kyuubi, to something that filled the room like a bonfire did with warmth. Belatedly, he realized that her chakra had been like this, through not quite to the point as to completely obscure his chakra signature even without his engrained control, since he’d neared the village. She’d wanted him to have the chance to decide.

“I- I appreciate this, Ane. I’ve never entertained any ideas of what I would do if I wasn’t a shinobi though, I don’t even know where to start. Aniija used to dream near the end, of a life where he stepped down, and could devote the rest of his life to you and making you happy. I’d remind him that we were the boogeymen of our world, and that there was no retirement for us.”

She laid a hand atop of his.

“I knew, I knew when I was considering marrying him so many years ago, that I was marrying more than a man. I was marrying his clan, his ideas, and everything that meant. He was always open about his dream of a village, and I knew that when he succeeded, it would mean that he would likely be the leader until death, and I accepted that. I made that choice. You loved him, would have chosen him regardless, but he never offered you the choice to be Hokage. You choose Hiruzen to be your successor in much the same way, but the difference was that Hiruzen wanted that dream. He talked to me before he proposed to Biwako, because he wanted her to go in with eyes wide open to what marriage to him could mean as not just wife of a clan head but wife of a Hokage. You wanted something else other than to be Hokage but accepted your brother’s last request because you would never have denied him such a thing.”

Tobirama twined their fingers together, not able to say a word because Mito had always understood better than his own brother had about what he had and hadn’t wanted.

She’d known that he’d been content amongst all the administrative work of building a village, developing it into something to be proud of. He’d wanted none of the leadership, but like he’d taken care of the clan, he’d taken care of the village, with no intention of ever outliving his brother because for all he’d wanted his brother to have passed in his sleep like he had, he’d never thought it would happen. He’d always thought it would have been like he nearly had; fighting to the last, sacrificing himself for their clan, for Konoha. She’d watched as she’d trained her sons on how to lead the clan, to replace him as the steadying hand to their father, then to act as his heirs when he was abruptly the clan head.

Now, he’d not only outlived his brother by decades, six years older than most shinobi died at, and he was at a loss for what to do since he’d somehow managed to successfully pass on the mantle that he had never wanted. Her sons were leading the Senju clan as was their birthright, had been for several years now and had rarely sought his advice since the war had begun. He was practically obsolete.

What he did now that he wasn’t boxed into being a shinobi by virtue of birth, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he could be anything else at this point.

Without notice, his eyes drifted from where his cousin was streaking towards them like death was on her heels and his team following as fast as they could, to what he could hardly believe existed.

He’d done all the work to create the jutsu, done everything needed to see his one private dream become a reality, but he’d always known he likely never would get the chance to follow through with it. The war had consumed his life, the worst sort of déjà vu to what his life had been like before Konoha, and the longer it had dragged on, the more he’d been sure that he wouldn’t see the end of it. He shouldn’t have seen the end of it, and he had prepared Hiruzen the best he could to take up his mantle for when the inevitable happened, but then the war had been waning.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that while his logic had been sound – because he’d stood the best chance to survive or at least hold the Kumo nin long enough his team could get away – he’d volunteered because he was facing the second time that he’d seen an end of seemingly endless war and he wasn’t made for peace. For his brother he’d tried, and come close to succeeding, but six years of war had undone what fifteen years of a relative sort of peace had done to smooth out some of his sharp edges. He’d survived because he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of being able to say they’d killed him, just spiteful enough to not die fighting anyone but an equal, not when nearly ten years of fighting Izuna hadn’t killed him.

He hadn’t lived in a long time, perhaps not since Kawarama and Itama had died, but his team had let him act like he had been.

Now, they’d gone and given him something to live for.

“I think I’ll stay. I want to be a father, one better than my own.”

#tobi_black #illusion cast upon the space-between-doors

[koroart]

How does Kushina react to Minato and Tobirama’s relationship?

I Hc that she’s equally “Hell yeah, get that Dilf Minato” and “If Tobirama even thinks about hurting Minato or Naruto I will rise from my grave to strangle him myself”

In this AU Kushina is sadly deceased mostly due to the complications of the birth and the extraction of the Nine Tails. But she would most certainly be both of those options! Cuz hell yeah Mina, get THAT DILF , dattebane!! And Tobirama knows better than to cross an Uzumaki! Beside we all know he would never try to hurt either of them because chances are Kushina probably WILL rise from the grave and choke him with anything she can get her hands on.

And it’s not to say Kushina isn’t dismissed here just because she’s gone! Minato always takes the time to tell Naruto about her or answer any questions Naruto would have about her! He never denies his son the knowledge he seeks about his mother, he shows him pictures or little trinkets of her that he would gift to him. Above all, he tells Naruto just how much Kushina loved him and she will always watch over him because a mother’s love is forever even when she isn’t here!

It even took Minato and Tobirama some time to even get together in this AU , they don’t get together until Naruto is at least 9 or 10 , meaning a good amount of time had passed since Kushina passed and at this point a lot of people would tell Minato to get back on the dating scene but he’s just e h.

Tobirama had been involved in their lives even before romantic feelings were involved, he helped Minato out when the work load was too much , looked after Naruto when Minato couldn’t be home , was a pillar of support for the young father and Hokage and is a trusted friend! The romantic feelings kicked them both in the balls because for all their genius, they were a little slow on realizing how deep their relationship had become. They’re practically raising a kid together and trust each other with feelings and fears they were unable to tell anyone else , even everyone else saw it building to that before they did.

One cute HC I have is when they finally do get together and they tell Naruto , he’s just ??? You mean you guys weren’t before ??? And they’re just ?? No?? And Naruto is just “ I’ve been telling everyone you were my dads for like….ever???” and Minato is flushed to high heaven and Tobirama just wants the earth to swallow him whole and Naruto just shrugs and eats his dinner cuz hey! Least it’s official now!

So it was a lot of build up ( cuz I’m a sucker for slow burn ) And I think Kushina would be happy for Minato for being able to move on and find himself someone to love and support him just as she did him!

#I was gonna put that all in the tags but I figured it just be best to share the whole thing #in this house Kushina is loved and respected whether alive or not!! #I love Kushina sm #thanks for the ask! #:: koko speaking! #tobimina raise naruto au

[hoe-imaginess]

Part 4

She moves her general directly into a compromising spot. An amateur mistake. With a simple move, he adds it to his captured pieces.

“You’re not thinking this through,” Madara murmurs.

She doesn’t reply.

She should be drawing back rather than advancing. If it were gall and confidence making her moves so impulsive, he might have been able to admire it a little, maybe enjoy it. But he doesn’t admire her mindlessness.

They would usually play on days their workload was at a low. Now, the mundane comfort that shogi is meant to offer is replaced by prolonged silence. They both know normality is a far reach at that point.

Not that she can boast at a winning streak, or any winning of any kind when it came to playing Madara, but she usually presents compensation in the form of a decent challenge. But it’s hardly satisfying for him now.

When he had asked her outside the academy if she planned to come to the library, it had been completely antagonistic in nature, just meant to remind her that he was aware of her little ruse to evade him, and that he didn’t find it at all entertaining.

Fine. I’ll be there.

Words spoken with such bitterness, but the conviction to validate those words did not reach her face. He could see the unease swimming in her eyes. The same unease he assumes keeps her in the constant, annoying state of equivocation, where all she does is avoid him.

She puts one of her generals back into play, but it’s by no means a calculated move. He doesn’t comment that time, only moves a piece to counter it. At that point he’s certain he could wear a blindfold and she would still pose no better a challenge.

“What is it, _____?”

“Nothing.” She looks at the board without seeing it. No amount of strategizing will do anything for her. She just needs to bide her time away from his scrutiny. 

"Look at me.”

She stiffens. Then after a moment’s hesitation, obeys.

His eyes are dark, unforgiving. “You were very clear when you told me that your absence was a result of work. Nothing else. That what happened between us did not trigger this behavior. ”

So, he’s not going to beat around the bush. “Maybe it’s just taken me time to understand.” She looks away from him then, unable to hold the thick gaze.

His eyes narrow. “Understand what?”

“What you’re doing.”

She moves one of her pieces again, to a much more perceptive place. Sharpness surged by swelling frustration, he assumes. How interesting.

“Then tell me what I’m doing.” He puts his next piece down with punctuated force, and she looks at him. 

“I think you’re just antagonizing me.”

He scoffs arrogantly. “If you’re still referring to that day after the academy meeting, then forgive me if I didn’t convey my intentions correctly. My plan was not to antagonize you.”

She scowls, but shivers when a ghost of his touch slides across her thighs, like his hands never left. There’s even a blush on her cheeks as she thinks carefully about his words. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about. You can’t stand that I’m on good terms with the Senju now, can you?”

He wins the game, again. With no lament of defeat, she stands from her seat and moves over to a bookshelf. Anything to get away from his deep glare.

“Interesting theory,” he says. “Then would it be fair of me to assume you’re more frequently collaborating with them on purpose?”

“Why would I be doing it on purpose?”

“To antagonize me, perhaps. Or to prove me wrong about everything I’ve told you. Why else choose to mend a broken bond with Tobirama, of all people?”

“I’m just discussing policies with him,” she says as she idly searches book titles, “and assisting when necessary.”

“Assisting,” he scoffs. “Don’t you think you’re being a little too generous? Given that he did next to nothing for you and your clan when you needed it most.”

“That’s not true,” she insists. And the defensive tone surprises her. 

She realizes then that Madara isn’t aware of the negotiating Tobirama facilitated between the Shimura and Sarutobi, all for the sake of accommodating her clan. She hadn’t disclosed that fact, not previously. And something tells her she shouldn’t at all. He would probably refute it, and convince her that Tobirama had ulterior motives, that it wasn’t genuine. She’s half-afraid she would believe him. 

But he’s impressed, nonetheless. "Oh no? Then tell me how magnanimous and understanding he was.”

She doesn’t like the way it’s spoken with such condescension. “Forget it, Madara.”

“Do you know what he plans to do with your clan?”

She looks at him now, eyes narrowed. “What?”

Glad he’s caught her attention, he doesn’t beat around the bush. “Your clan is not contributing to the academy. Not as much as Tobirama would like, at least. He will not stand for that. You get what you put in, that’s how he sees it. Because you will not sacrifice your resources, your clan loses out on opportunities in the academy.”

“What are you talking about?” she counters automatically, as if it were ridiculous. But it reels her in, nonetheless. She carefully returns to the table, drawn in by his words.

“Think about it.”

And she does. What he’s implying certainly is by no means unfathomable, but would Tobirama do that to her? After they had finally managed to appease tension? After she started trusting him? 

She looks at him. “Are you doing it again?” she asks.

Annoyance sharpens his features. “Am I doing what?”

“Trying to instigate me.”

“Of course I am,” he says with no hesitance whatsoever. “So you clear your mind and start thinking straight. But what I’m saying is no lie. He gives privilege to clans that conform to his needs. Your clan does not. Therefore, your rights to in village are limited. Ask him yourself.”

“Is that what you want? A confrontation? To create more tension between the Senju and my clan?”

“No,” he grunts sharply. “That’s not what I want.”

He stands from the table and walks to her. After so many chilling and unnerving encounters, she wants to step away. But she’s swept up in confusion and concern. She doesn’t even flinch when he comes close to her. 

“I want you to know what exactly you’re getting yourself into by trusting him.”

“I know what I’m getting myself into, Madara. Don’t act like I’m naive.”

“You are if you trust him.”

She scowls. “By what he’s told me, I shouldn’t be trusting you either.”

“So that’s what he’s been doing? Filling your head with—”

“No. That’s not what he’s doing.” She sounds exasperated. “If anything, you are the one trying to manipulate me and fill my head with lies.” 

He remains silent when she says that. For what reason, she doesn’t know. But the air is subdued then, still lingering with distinct tension, but the aggression weathers away. 

“I don’t want to argue with you,” she continues. “Don’t do this again. You’re only stirring tension where it doesn’t need to be stirred.” It isn’t what she wants. It was never what she wanted. To be so combative every time she was with him, when she truly considered him to be one of, if not her closest companions... It didn’t feel right. “Where is this coming from, Madara? Is it just because I’ve been spending time with Tobirama? Is that really it?”

“Yes,” he snaps. It’s the truth. He doesn’t care to deny it. “In the beginning you  bore the brunt of Tobirama’s negligence. For weeks on end, all you did was complain. And now? To put faith in him? To open yourself and your clan to disaster so easily?” Something changes in him, something dark and morbid. She can see it in his face, in his eyes. “Every clan, yours included, cannot be expected to relinquish all resentment from decades of war. It’s just not possible. You see the tension that surrounds us. Are we supposed to just forget? How can you be so trusting?”

“How can you be so doubtful? I was always cautious, Madara. You don’t think I felt the same way about the Uchiha when we first joined the village?” Her eyes plead with him, though she wonders if it will do any good now that they’re both so passionate about their conflicting beliefs. “Don’t think I didn’t. Because I did. Then I met you. Here. In this very library. And when we spoke for the first time, you were kind to me, and nothing like I expected. I learned to trust you. Just as I have learned to trust Tobirama.”

He scowls and scoffs, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Even after what I’ve told you? That he plans to punish your clan for not yielding to his demands?”

“How do I know that’s the truth, Madara?”

“You really think I would lie to you?”

“To aggravate me? Yes. You even admitted it yourself. That’s all you’re doing, trying to antagonize me.”

“I would not steer you in the wrong direction,” he snaps. “But he will. And when your clan is facing the consequences of your naivety—”

“You’re not concerned with my clan,” she says sharply. “Or me.” The bands that held her anger together break under his ignorance. “This is just part of your own agenda, using me for your animosity. You’re not doing this for my benefit.”

“Then for whose?” he counters angrily. “Mine?”

“Who else?” She sounds afflicted. And in the tangle of emotions suddenly attacking her, she reaches for whatever counter she can, and regrets it immediately.

“Is this because of your brother?” she says. “Is this for Izuna? Has it been for him all this time? Some twisted desire to avenge him—”

A hand twists into her collar and pushes her back roughly against the shelves, hard enough to knock scrolls loose from their place and tumble to the floor.

“Do not bring Izuna into this.” 

His voice is threatening and cold, cold as the pits of his dark, intense eyes.

The sting of impact floods her back, but it’s not the pain that’s disconcerting, not the fact that he physically acted out on the aggression. It’s the pure malice in his words. It’s the first time he’s raised his voice to her like that. 

She would twist away from his grip, but her veins are ice cold, her body unresponsive. She imagines that it’s exactly what it must have felt like to fall to Madara Uchiha in battle. It must be the same sense of urgency, the same dread. He might as well have a kunai pressed to her throat.

Seeing her like this, anxious, frightened, looking at him as though he’s the enemy, the way everyone looks at him... it disgusts him. His grip subsides, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand flattens and gently rests against her collar bone, like the tender contact will atone for what he’s done.

She peers up at him, expectant but frightened. Imperceptible tremors run through her body, which he feels under his palm. He closes his eyes and gathers his thoughts. He doesn’t want to apologize. Not for his intentions. He might apologize for his emotions, since for the first time, he realizes what she’s done to him.

In the beginning, he admittedly toyed with her emotions, though not for malevolent reasons. It had only been out of a need to gauge her temperament and her judgement, toward the Senju, mostly. Toward Tobirama. It was all so much easier when he thought she shared the same ill will toward the man. Now, Madara is painfully aware that she doesn’t. Not anymore. He’s losing her to the Senju. Just like he lost his brother.

But it appears that nothing he said would change her mind. The cycle of frustration and pain and desire would only continue. Nothing could be done about it.

“Do whatever you please,” he says finally. And he walks away. 

There’s no ultimatum. No threat. No admonition. All things she had come to expect. Now whatever tie they had stands irrefutably cut. She can feel it, can feel the depravity as he grabs his belongings and departs.

“Madara,” she tries to plead. But there’s no reply, not even a parting glance.

The comfort leaves with him, and she feels alone.

                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you need anything from me, ______-san?”

“No. You’re free to leave. Thank you for sorting these scrolls for me.” She waves the assistant off, wishing he would just go away, but the young man looks unconvinced. It’s only after she gives him an earnest, regrettably forceful look that he bows and leaves. Then she turns back to her work.

The suspicions Madara implanted in her mind had been supplemented in a matter of days. She’s dubious. Dubious, worried, anxious—and almost convinced of Tobirama’s plot. 

It started directly after her altercation with the Uchiha, when she wandered over to the Senju office. She couldn’t think straight. She just needed to be somewhere else, and found the promise of being with Tobirama, or even Hashirama, for that matter, compelling her toward their side of the village.

When she arrived, it was a relief to see the younger Senju sitting at Hashirama’s desk. Comfort found her, in a desperate, cynical sort of way.

“I’m conducting a meeting soon with two clan heads. We’re discussing the academy,” he had said when he saw her.

They had discussed the academy with advisors before, but never with the private audience of a clan head, not since the initial meeting. She had been excited at the idea, hopeful that they could offer more to their cause now that higher-ups were involved.

“Alone,” he had clarified as soon as he saw the eager smile on her face.

Even now, she remembers the awful sting in her body as a flood of uncertainty hit her, shattering the denial she had built since hearing Madara spew his libel. 

Usually, she would have argued and inquired as to why she could not attend the meeting. Did he not know that she would be interested in what the clan heads had to say? Especially when she had been collaborating with him all this time? They were both advisors. He had no higher authority than her that dictated whether she should be involved or not. It was insulting. She had every reason to question him.

Yet she did nothing of the sort. She just apologized, an uncharacteristic gesture he didn’t seem to catch, and left. 

Then the next day, an envoy had come to her home with an offhand message from Tobirama, simply stating that he would be busy, occupied with more meetings that he needed to settle on his part. And that it would be best if she left him to his work.

A clear statement. She needed to keep away. She was not invited, or wanted.

Is this how he would do it? she thought. How he planned to move her out of the picture? Tobirama had yet to call on her clan heads to hold any sort of discussion pertaining to the academy. Not just that, but through the hours spent planning and brainstorming, he had not mentioned her clan’s involvement once. Madara’s words seemed truer with every cumulative thought.

Of course, she could write it off as an unnecessary discussion. The fact she collaborated with him at all surely meant he was keeping her clan in mind. Yet what prompted him to exclude her from his meetings? Why had he not requested an audience with her clan heads like the others? Did that really mean that he planned to penalize her clan...? No. It couldn’t be. It was just Madara’s words twisting her rationality.

But the idea of not knowing the complete truth hinders her concentration, and the Uchiha’s voice at the back of her mind persists as a reminder of the unknown.

One of her assistants is suddenly calling to her and kneeling outside the room, waiting for entry. She accepts, and the young girl who looks crossly disheveled doesn’t look her in the eyes. 

“Madara Uchiha wishes to speak with you,” she whispers. “He asked to be escorted here.”

Her mind draws blank. She would prepare herself for whatever it was he sought out, but she doesn’t see the point in guessing. If there’s anything she’s learned from Madara, it’s that he’s unpredictable.

She tells the girl to let him in, and waits in fretful anticipation. With a slide of the door, the Uchiha is there standing in front of her.

It’s silent.

She watches him closely for any signs of acrimony, but there are none. He spares only an expectant, but impatient glance to the young assistant that shadows him.

The woman understands immediately, and dismisses the girl. “Thank you. Go home now. It’s getting dark.”

This assistant is much more obedient than the last, likely unsettled by Madara’s strong presence. She forces herself to bow, then scurries away, leaving them alone at last.

His calm is remarkable, but inside, a swirl of emotions he hasn’t quite tethered. He hadn’t considered what he would say to her, only that he needed to say something. Hours of enduring the waves of regret and anxiety crashing over his train of thought, and he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I leave today,” he begins, almost methodically, “to meet with the daimyo. With Hashirama.”

She nods slowly. “I know.”

“I need to explain something,” he begins, hesitantly. But earnestly, nevertheless. "What I said that day. I was irrational. Paranoid, as of late. It was wrong of me.” That morning, he had taken some of those same fears and unleashed them onto Hashirama. 

This visit to the daimyo would finalize the village as a permanent settlement in the Land of Fire. It should have been a good thing to be progressing like they were. Finally, their childhood dream would come to fruition.

But he couldn’t see it that way. Not when he could still feel the friction between clans. Not when Tobirama was already moving to cause strife. It pushed him to the edge of doubt, and triggered a long suppressed outrage.

Hashirama had been unprepared for his friend’s anger. Fortunately, an argument that took the better part of the day finally put Madara at ease. Hashirama may not have been a diplomat at heart, but all he had to do was remind Madara of what the village stood for, of the violence and mayhem that could be avoided by uniting the shinobi world, and the Uchiha yielded.

The reluctance Madara felt is no longer potent. It still remains, however, somewhere in the depths of his heart. He expects it won’t be the last debate he and Hashirama have about the matter.

But for now, he knows how agonizing those doubts can be. The possibility—more like fact—that he left her agonized in the same way, and for so long, is what brings him to her. To alleviate the dilemma, because he knows it’s his fault.

"I want this village to work.”

He hadn’t anticipated her voice to be so soft, so vulnerable, so hesitant. It makes the searing guilt even worse.

"So do I.” Despite the complications. Despite the doubt. He really does. “I want it to work.”

“But it can’t if you keep acting this way,” she adds, and immediately, his civil composure threatens to fall. He closes his eyes and exhales deeply, trying to persevere as she goes on. “You need stop trying to fill my head with lies that will get me into trouble, Madara.”

He steps closer to her, through the door until he’s fully inside of her home, all in one swift motion.

She doesn’t realize how close he is until her feet hit the wall and he’s in front of her, solemn, tense, determination swimming in his charcoal eyes. “I am not lying. The only thing I’m trying to do is help you, _______.“

He’s so close that her scent floods him. That tint of warm sugar and fresh flowers that has always seemed so calming and pleasant to his senses. He reaches out to touch her face, and she stills. She never realized how large and slender his hands were, fingers stretching along her cheeks to caress her lightly in an effort of apology.

She stares fretfully over his shoulder, outside the open door where the sun is peeking out above the trees surrounding the village, descending for the night. If anyone were to come across the compromising situation, it would be difficult to conjure an explanation. 

“I know,” is all she says. 

There’s nothing else she can think of to subdue the rising pressure. She understands what he means. But she can’t accept it. Maybe it’s because she can’t abandon the progress she’s made, or what she thought she had made so far, with the village, and with Tobirama. 

There are no changes in his expression. He examines her. Her eyes, her lips, her hair. Everything. Like he’s focused on nothing else but drinking up the sight of her, accepting the pain he had brought her, owning the regret.

“Did you ask him?”

Her eyes return to him, confused, but she thinks she knows. “What?”

“Tobirama,” he clarifies, voice so soft and quiet she doesn’t recognize it as his. “Did you ask him about his plans?”

Then she’s looking away again, reminded of the suspicion that has persecuted her all this time. She doesn’t want it to be true. 

“No.”

“Ask him,” he says, retracting and staring down at her, almost expressionless. “You deserve to know.”

She only stares, and he doesn’t waver from her gaze, letting her swallow down the severity of his words. It’s by no means deceit. He’s honest. He’s doing it for her. She thinks she realizes that now.

And when he pulls away and leaves, the dismay returns, like his presence kept her grounded. 

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~

There are footsteps approaching from outside the door, but Tobirama is hardly in the mood to be disturbed.

“Who is it?” he calls before they can even announce themselves.

It better not be Hashirama. His elder brother was already late to the congregation at the head of the village where he was meant to depart on his trip, yet he had come to wish his younger brother farewell just a few minutes prior.

“Me,” the firm voice comes from the other side of the door.

Definitely something Hashirama would say, Tobirama thinks, but it’s not his brother.

She doesn’t wait for permission. She walks in, and he only offers her a glance of acknowledgement before returning his attention to the scroll in his hands, surprisingly unruffled by her lack of courtesy.

“The amount of people who come into this office and I’m expected to know who ‘me’ is?”

“Yet you still let me enter.” She moves to the edge of the desk and draws her eyes over the heap of scrolls. “Besides, you’re a sensor.”

"I’m not charging chakra every second of the day. I shouldn’t have to.”

“That makes it even easier to sneak up on you, then.”

He tries to glare at her, but it comes across as a harmless, fatigued frown. He’s thoroughly weary from all the work on his plate, but that’s suddenly no longer his primary concern. He can’t concentrate on his own demeanor when hers is pressing his curiosity.

He hadn’t seen her once since he practically dismissed her from his presence before his academy meetings, something he regrets deeply. The calm when she left Hashirama’s office that day had been palpable. Suspiciously palpable. Which is what led Tobirama to sit and brood far longer than he cared to admit, trying to understand what could have possibly extinguished her normally fiery attitude. It made little sense that she would settle so easily with being barred from his academy discussions, no matter how gently he had tried to let her down.

Over the past weeks, there came a sinking realization that their intimate interactions would boil skepticism from others at some point. Tobirama is convinced that the key to harmonizing the village is equal discretion; favoring one clan over the other would not encourage that. It was for that exact reason he had chosen to subtly exclude her from his discussion with the clan heads, and even sent an envoy to suggest that they forgo on their seeing each other again the following day.

It had all been for the sake of discretion. Nothing else. He assumed that she wanted attention drawn to them no more than he did, and that precaution was necessary. Had she questioned him, he would have gladly explained that. But when he received no reply to his message, he knew she was likely offended. Which is why it’s so curious that he can’t find a single trace of solicited hostility in her expression now. Not even in her voice. 

She’s too calm. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. 

"Are these for the academy?” she asks, running her hands along the strewn scrolls.

He says nothing, but passes one over to her.

“Hashirama will have to build this, no doubt,” she notes as she examines the paper. Blueprints for expanding academy grounds, she thinks. "After he’s worn himself from the village’s infrastructure, you don’t think this is too much for him?”

“He will work with whatever I give him. He’s intrigued by the prospect of the academy, anyway. If I have to do all the administrative work, he can suffer a little manual labor.”

"And the Uchiha?” she asks, biting her tongue as soon as she says it. A stupid impulse that spills from her mouth only as impatience takes over. 

Tobirama’s ability to hide his emotions is excellent when he wants it to be, but she notices the slight tug of his lips into a frown. "What about them?”

“I don’t think I ever asked. What are they planning to contribute? Will they have something to do with the academy? ”

He stops reading and exhales heavily, like he’s annoyed. “Of course they will.”

“Are you sure?”

Now he looks at her, furrowing his brows in suspicion. “Madara agreed to assist, and thereby, his clan will have input… Why are you asking? Did he send you here to pry?”

“He didn’t send me to do anything. He and I were just discussing the academy recently, and I realized you and I hadn’t spoken about his plans. That’s all.”

It’s that complacency in her demeanor that he does not like. Not at all. Something is off. “You were with him just now?”

That seems like an obvious question. It had only been a few hours since he had come to her home. Come to clarify, come to… well, whatever else he had hoped to accomplish. 

“Why do you care?” she returns swiftly.

He scowls, and considers lying to snake away from the truth. “I don’t. I only ask that next time, you let me know when you’re consulting with the Uchiha about academy business.”

“The Uchiha,” she echoes quietly, wondering how it can sound so hateful spilling off his tongue like that.

The exasperated tone catches him. “What?”

“Nothing…” And she almost leaves it at that. Because the more she considers it, she doesn’t want to dig any further. Doesn’t want to find out the truth, because she fears what it will evoke. "You just make it seem as though he has no right to involve himself in academy affairs.”

Not this again, Tobirama thinks. “Of course he has a ‘right’,” he argues. “Even if I know he has more than enough grievances with my agenda. Like I said, he agreed to contribute. He will have a say in academy affairs.” For what seems like the hundredth time, he tries to focus on the last paragraph of the scroll in his hand.

She’s silent after that. Which is odd, he thinks. Usually their mild sparring persists much longer, or at least until it breaks into something more intense. But no, the silence is stretched almost uncomfortably.

She wonders whether she should say it. Madara’s words have been hammering away in her head in an agonizing way. Now it’s all the worse when she’s standing right in front of the accused.

Distress persists, and forces the words out of her. 

“Interesting. Because I need to know why you’re excluding my clan from affairs, even though we’re doing everything we can to contribute to the academy. Or does your courtesy only extend as far as your mood at the time?”

He visibly stiffens, and slowly raises his gaze to her. “What are you talking about?”

"I thought we were over this, Tobirama.” There’s the bite in her voice that was previously absent. “But I come to find out that you’re displeased with what we can offer you? And because of that, you’re plotting against us?”

“Plotting?” The calm leaves his voice. “You’re the one who said you didn’t have enough resources to contribute.”

“And that means you take away my clan’s opportunity? The children’s opportunities?”

“That is not even remotely close to what I am doing.”

“Then what is it?”

“The academy will be limited in the beginning, yes, that is true.” He’s trying to be understanding, but he’s never responded well to confrontation. Her belligerence blindsides him, makes him instinctively defensive. “I’m not punishing you for what you can’t offer. There is no penalty for that.”

“Then what would you call it?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. He actually doesn’t know. If he’s being completely honest with himself, a penalty is exactly what he had considered it to be. That had only been on account of the troublesome complaints he had received from many clans. But when it comes to hers, labeling it as something so crooked seems wrong.

“Necessary governance,” he mutters finally, unable to look at her.

“Does Hashirama know about this?” she contends; anger is simmering at the surface.

He frowns. “What does that matter?”

“I can’t imagine your brother would let something like this happen. He’s too kind. Too considerate. Too concerned for the well-being of this village.”

“And you think I’m not?”

“You’re just focused on molding the village’s authority to your liking. You’re forcing us into contributing and punishing those who don’t adhere to what you want, Tobirama. This is supposed to be a unified village. You can’t treat people like this… Madara was right.” The exasperation subsides an entire level when she thinks about the Uchiha, about the way his fingers caressed her face. She had been wrong to doubt him.

“What do you mean?” he inquires, anger replaced by frustrating curiosity.

“He told me about this. He told me what you were planning." 

His face twists into something worse than a scowl. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter what exactly he told me. He couldn’t have possibly made it any worse than it is. I thought I could trust you. But all you’re doing is scheming for your own benefit. For yourself.”

“For myself?” He stands from his chair.

“Of course you are!“ Her voice transcends a volume she’s not used to, and her heart pounds at the audacity. "And if not for yourself, then for your clan. Not for the village. You preach about village prosperity, but that only applies if it’s under your conditions. This is exactly like it was in the beginning. You’re narrow-minded, and inconsiderate. I trusted you, Tobirama.” She sounds hurt, and he hears it. Then her tone welcomes malice once again. “But you don’t deserve my trust.”

The way ire thickens around her is probably enough to silence anyone. That sharp pain of disappointment in her voice, completed by an edge of regret. Her fiery glare, so close to him now that she’s leaned closer, puts him on edge.

But Tobirama is silent. He can’t fully comprehend what he’s just heard. No one has ever spoken to him like that. 

His expression softens to a bleak, listless frown. Even his voice is unexpectedly calm. “Is that really what you think?”

Her tone is agitated, still marred by the intensity of her outburst. She’s almost disappointed that she received such a lenient reaction. “Yes.”

A closer examination reveals his true sentiment. It’s like pure indignation burning in his scarlet eyes, hot emotion twisting into his features. Some part of her is intimidated, but it’s a part she can’t welcome right then.

He should hate her for coming to such audacious conclusions. Mostly because they’ve been devised by Madara. He had suspect as much all along. If anyone else had done this to him, if anyone else had spoken to him with such lawless impudence… well, he would hold nothing back. 

But now, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do.

The fervor in her expression hasn’t disappeared. The furrow of her brows betrays anger and poses what he notices for the first time now as uncertainty. Uncertainty and confusion and pain.

It’s then that he becomes aware of just how close they are, only a few inches more and they would touch. Hands, body, or lips. 

His heart quickens its pace at the notion. He doesn’t know why the idea intrudes his thought process, especially when he’s searing with enough anger to choke her. He can’t handle it any longer.

"Get out,” he mutters, voice filled with a threat that he can’t form into words.

"No.” It doesn’t deter her, even if she is unsettled by the tone. It gets under his skin, she can see it in the way his face tightens into a hard scowl. "I’m tired of this, Tobirama. I’m tired of constantly wondering whether you’re going to go behind my back and—”

“I’m not going to tell you again,” he says angrily. “Get out.”

“I’m not leaving.”

They’re still so close, so close she can hear the frustration in his shallow breaths. And now, he doesn’t bother hiding it. He’s staring at her lips. She can see it. He knows she can. Somehow, she finds her eyes drawn to his own lips, lips set in a thin, angry line. 

Through all the rage, she feels a drowning hope. Hope that the happiness and companionship she found in him would still be alive. That his schemes, lawful in foundation or not, wouldn’t ruin what they had. But she knows better. Feelings of sad warmth take over her, and she realizes how weak she becomes in the face of their turmoil. 

Eyes still on his lips, her breath catches when he dips his head down. She prepares herself, feels her heart stop, but he doesn’t do it.

He just lowers his head, and shuts his eyes in an attempt to gather his wits. A passion he doesn’t understand courses through him in defeat.

“Leave.”

It’s difficult to readjust her concentration, especially when her body is still filled with some odd, fluttering warmth. 

“No,” she manages.

He withdraws quickly, grabs a stack of scrolls and makes to leave, but she moves to block his path. He has half a mind to move her, but he doesn’t want to touch her.

“Don’t run away from this, Tobirama.“ She knows what she’s doing is completely reckless, and that the repercussions will be dire. But she can’t hold back. She didn’t come so far to receive no closure. The confusion and misplaced trust eats at her without fail. Who is she supposed to believe? "I can’t handle this anymore. This uncertainty and this distrust. I need to know why. Why are you doing this?”

His face falls in anger. “Why trust the word of that Uchiha?!” He’s yelling now, right in her face. He’ll regret his volatile temper later, but it’s his defense against the bubbling anxiety in his chest.

“Stop saying that,” she protests. “He’s been more help than you have, Tobirama. He’s been honest, and genuine—”

“Don’t call him honest,” Tobirama seethes. “If you weren’t so obsessed with him, then you would see he’s anything but honest.”

“I trust him. If not for him, I wouldn’t have even known about this little plot of yours. I would have made a fool of myself, hoping that you would take my wishes into consideration. I had to find out from him… Why is that?”

“You would see Madara for what he really is if you would just clear your head, if you weren’t so absorbed in this misconstrued idea of him.” Tobirama feels like he’s speaking to his brother. An endless argument that neither of them can ever win. But with her, it’s much more frustrating. 

“Is this still about Madara?… Why, Tobirama?” She steps toward him, too close for comfort, but he doesn’t draw back. “You never gave me a clear answer when I asked you. Why do you hate him so much? Why are you punishing me now for finding a friend in him?”

He scoffs in disgust. “You’re gullible.” The intent of his words is earnest, but the spite isn’t. He would say her logic is twisted, but it makes sense. He hates to admit it. But it does. 

He tries to side step and move to the door, the only destination that seems safe at the moment. She presses a hand against his chest and pushes him back. That’s when his self-restraint teeters.

“Why?” she pleads, desperately now. He can see it in her eyes, can feel it in the way her fingers tighten just slightly into the fabric of his shirt. “Tell me why.”

He doesn’t answer, only glares at her. 

Attempting to step by her again proves to be a fatal mistake. A disgruntled, frustrated protest, and her hands shove at his chest, hard. Instinctively, he snatches her wrists before she can set upon him again, and all at once an endless tangle of emotion and tension and exasperation snaps like a coil.

“Because!” he yells down at her. “I don’t trust him not to hurt you. I—”

Common sense returns to him just in time. He reads the flash of astonishment and confusion on her flushed face, and briefly shuts his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell he’s just done.

And then there’s silence. He wishes the earth would swallow him up, make him disappear.

What does she say to that? Does she follow the scorn that lingers, and reprimand him? His outburst makes that impossible. She can’t even bother to wrench her hands out of his grip.

She swallows, but finds her throat dry. “That’s—”

“Enough. It doesn’t matter.” 

He lets go of her, doesn’t even look at her as he moves to the door. “You and your clan will have anything you need for the academy. There will be no more complications.”

Then he leaves, slamming the door behind him. 

An odd, unshakable pain of separation grips her. One that has her losing sleep every night for weeks on end.

#lots of arguing in this chapter prepare for it #it may be boring #it may be spicy #it's probbaly both #sorry #madara is so difficult to write when he's arguing bc is he gonna be mean or is he gonn abe condescending you just don't know #can i spell #arguing tobirama is always fun to write tho bc u know he's gonna fuck it up big time eventually #time skip after this chapter #i think #i gotta check #i'm stupid asf #someone told me to tag this as #madaramadrama #so that's what this is now

[raendown]

Pairing: TobiramaKagami Word count: 1875 Soulmate au: The one where if you reject your soulmate you fall seriously ill to purge them from your soul

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 206

When no one had seen Kagami for three days Tobirama knew something was amiss. He might not have been the most social butterfly in the world but he did like to pop in on the ones he was closest to on a very frequent basis, much better than the rest of his standoffish clan. Knowing the younger man had not accepted any missions left Tobirama quite worried that something was wrong. He considered sending Saru to go check on their mutual friend, worried he might have given offense somehow, but learning that Kagami hadn’t been seen by anyone had him standing from his desk and heading out himself straight away.

The village would hardly burn down if he stepped away from his paperwork for a single afternoon. Perhaps his absence would magically convince Hashirama to actually fill out his own forms for once. Unlikely but a man could dream.

No answer came the first time he knocked on Kagami’s front door. It took knocking two more times, both increasingly louder than before, for a very familiar chakra to flare weakly from deep within the house. Tobirama understood he was being called inside and did not bother to wait for a second invitation. He knew what the other’s chakra should feel like, healthy and vibrant. That had been anything but vibrant.

Inside the home was dark, unusual considering it was barely past the noon hour. Tobirama felt the worry in his gut rising ever higher as he kicked his sandals off with uncharacteristic carelessness and moved down the hall at as quick a pace as he could without breaking in to an unseemly trot. Of the few times he had been here before Kagami had always shown him to the living room where they enjoyed delicious tea and delightful conversation. It felt almost as though he were invading the other’s privacy to poke his head in to what he could guess would be the main bedroom.

Kagami groaned from the shadows.

With a belly like lead Tobirama floated across the carpet on silent feet and pulled the curtains open only enough to give himself a sliver of light. Then he turned to look towards the bed and he was glad that he hadn’t been so thoughtless as to throw sunlight over the entire room. Kagami looked awful. His pale skin was flushed with fever and his eyes stared out of the darkness with a glassy, empty sheen. When he tried to speak his voice came out as a broken groan that called Tobirama over to kneel at his side.

“Have you had any water?” he asked. The shake of Kagami’s head was barely perceptible. “I’ll fetch you some.”

It was but the work of a moment to hurry through the home on his overlong legs and bring back a pitcher of water. After pouring a glass he set the pitcher aside and held a straw in place for Kagami to take small sips.

“You weren’t even slightly ill the last time we spoke,” Tobirama murmured.

“M’sorry,” Kagami whispered. Confused, he lowered the cup of water to frown.

“What on earth could you have to be sorry for? It’s hardly your fault you fell under the weather.”

A look of guilt flashed across the man’s face for a brief moment but Tobirama had always been faster than most and his eyes could see nearly as quick as the Sharingan. He didn’t bother with words. One eyebrow raised and a very pointed silence was enough to make his friend squirm under the pressure.

“Did it to myself,” Kagami broke down eventually, whispering in his croaky sick voice. “It’s a soul sickness.”

Something hot and painful lanced through his chest and Tobirama only just barely managed to keep his face completely blank. He’d known on the day he felt the first stirrings of interest that there could only ever be a very small chance Kagami might share his feelings and yet he hadn’t been able to resist the draw of that tiny percentage. Now he realized he was paying the price for following his heart like the sort of fool he had often teased others for being.

That Kagami had denied his soulmate should have overjoyed him, should have boosted his confidence that he still had a chance, but he couldn’t help but feel shattered that it wasn’t him. Dreams he would never dared to have given voice crumbled before his eyes.

“Were they a bad match?” he asked because if he didn’t say something he might have allowed his heart to spill out from his tongue and now was hardly the time to make the other man feel even worse.

“No.” Closing his eyes with a miserable expression, Kagami shivered. “He’s perfect.”

Tobirama breathed through the pain and cursed his morbid curiosity. “You wish to be with him?”

“More than anything.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you reject the one that you want to be with?”

“Because he could never want someone like me,” Kagami said. “He’s amazing. And he’s never so much as turned his head my way. So when I realized what I was feeling I…I just thought…I can’t.”

Never before had he felt so much hatred for another human being. Whoever it was that could possibly ignore this brilliant man was a fool. Tobirama would have given anything to be the one to hold Kagami close, to warm his soul in all that compassion so freely given, and this stranger didn’t even have the time of day to consider it an option. Knowing that he couldn’t help in any way that mattered, Tobirama reached out to lay his hand on the sheets close to where pale fingers were loosely curled. He would have sold his last heartbeat for the honor of winding them together but he told himself to be content with just this moment of closeness.

“This man must not be very smart to tell you no,” was all he could offer. It earned him a sad little smile.

“He’s really smart, actually.”

“A fool then.”

“Well, he didn’t actually tell me no. If he rejected me then he’d be the one who caught the soul sickness.” Kagami cut himself short with a cough, turning his head to catch it against his pillow.

Tobirama clenched his hand to stop himself from reaching out. “You rejected someone that you already desire because you think they don’t want you? There is still time to reverse this, you know. It would harm nothing to at least ask.”

“It would hurt my heart if he said no,” Kagami whispered.

“Well then inform me if he does and I will harm him.”

His friend smiled, a sad little expression, and shook his head. The sheer hopelessness of him make everything in Tobirama’s being cry out. It hurt to know that it wasn’t him, that he would never have the chance he so quietly dreamed of, but his own little aches were nothing compared to the idea of losing this man. Kagami was precious to him as more than just a possibility. He was a good friend, a great asset to this village, and the world would be lesser without him.

“Please speak to this person,” he pleaded softly. “You cannot know for sure until you ask.”

“Seriously, there’s no point. He’ll never see me that way even if we are soulmates.”

“Any man would have to be impaired to turn you away.”

Kagami sighed. “Not any man. Would you accept me?”

“Yes.” The word came out fervent and rushed, a cry of devotion begging for but a moment of consideration, and Tobirama only realized what he had just revealed when Kagami’s eyes snapped up to his own with a sudden sharpness. Burning heat rose in his face. He hadn’t meant to spill his secrets like that, hadn’t meant to add to the other man’s burdens.

Before he could make any apologies Kagami reached out to brush against the skin of his wrist, hesitance and wonder in the depths of his eyes.

“Are you…you’re not just saying that to be kind? Would you really consider me?” It was the desperate hope in his voice, a note of disbelief as though he truly thought no one could see him in that way, that pulled at Tobirama’s heart. While adding to the other’s burdens was the last thing he wanted he also knew that he would have done anything within his power to take that look away. Someone this wonderful should never believe themselves to be anything less.

“I already do,” he admitted quietly. Unable to hold that piercing gaze, he looked down at the bedsheets and tried to sound as confident as though he weren’t blushing like an adolescent. “I consider you dearer to me than you can possibly know.”

“Do you mean that how I think you mean that?” Kagami breathed.

“Probably.”

Fear and something like a very faint hope that he didn’t dare humor both turned over in his belly until he worried he might bring up his breakfast all over the sheets between them. Kagami did not leave him suspended for long. His attention was still tightly fixated on a loose thread when he felt a brush against his cheek, startling enough that he looked up to find Kagami staring back at him with so much happiness he simply couldn’t imagine what might be the cause, blinding as that smile was. It registered distantly that the man’s skin already looked closer to his natural color and the feverish sheen in his gaze had faded away. Already he looked healthier.

What held Tobirama’s attention the most was how Kagami lifted himself to push across the mattress and crash their lips together, a first kiss more akin to an assault with the way their teeth clacked violently together. It was still, somehow, perfect.

At some point his body must have moved on its own; when they pulled apart Tobirama realized he was half on the mattress, Kagami’s chest trapped under the weight of his own at a strange angle which had done nothing to deter them from doing their best to devour one another. Both of them sported brilliant color upon their cheeks and he was slightly afraid his heart might actually crack a rib it was beating so fast.

“I don’t feel sick anymore,” Kagami whispered, sending his heart thundering at twice speed it was already beating.

“Oddly enough I think I do now.” He was glad of how well the other knew him then as he realized how that must have sounded only a moment before Kagami burst in to laughter.

“Nervous?”

Tobirama swallowed thickly. “Terrified. In a strangely pleasant way.”

“Come here then, let me make you feel better. It’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Kagami wrapped a fist in the front of his shirt and pulled them together again, dragging him entirely on to the bed. As he settled further over the younger man Tobirama decided he really had no problems with that. The man he’d been hopelessly in love with for months felt the same, was in fact his soulmate, and in that moment he couldn’t think of a single other thing in the whole universe that might make him happier than this.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #tobikaga #tobirama #kagami #fanfiction