#tobirama fanfic

[risuola]

VI — YOU HAVE MY HEART — F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

It's so easy to love you and it's even easier to admire how hardworking you are. You trained and became strong, you assisted in creating the ANBU leading the first unit. You were the pride and joy in Tobirama's life, but with all of that came also the fear. The terror of losing you.

cw: not much, it's mostly fluffy. it gets a little steamy towards the end, so reader discretion is advised — 2,5k words

note: when I was translating this chapter, I realized that the timeline can be a little blurry, though I tried to make it as clear as possible, but I'll summarize this here quickly: one year has passed since the wedding until the events from chapter V, then one year she was training and working in ANBU and then the mission took another year. so it's three years since they married ❥

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sometimes, you felt like you and Tobirama were meant to be. Like this whole arranged, political agreement was planned somewhere by someone who has way more power than you’d think, because even after nearly three years with that man, you still find it difficult to understand how on earth you worked so well when it’s more than clear that you shouldn’t.

There were just too many differences between you and your husband. He’s cold and stoic whilst you are warm and bubbly. Your calmness doesn’t make a fraction of how calm he is, or rather, used to be. You loved to touch him and for his entire life, Senju faltered from physical contact. And yet, all of it changed, when you stepped into his life. A princess from the foreign village, a diamond that was kept in the cage made of gold and luxury, a bird that was yearning for freedom and safety. Tobirama gave you both of these things.

The feelings between you two only solidified after the incident in your homeland. It’s almost two years after the unfortunate chain of events that led the young Senju to leave the negotiations in Konoha to save you from abusive ritual that took place in Yu; a pathetic display of parenting that your father thought was a favor to your husband. After that, and the little time you needed to heal completely with a help of one of the best medics in the leaf village, you had made a decision to go back to training. Ever since you moved, you spent your time learning topography of your new home, befriending people, helping – none of which you put into your own development and it’s only after you were defeated so easily, it got to you that everything that you thought you knew was not even a fraction what you should be able to execute.

That’s why for the months after that, you trained – mostly by yourself, but Tobirama was more than happy to help you anytime he had some spare hours. He found you admirable, the way you wanted to become the best shinobi possible even though there was no need for that. You were excellent even before, the idea of you lacking never crossed his mind and yet you stood up for the challenge and it was in his best interest to help you achieve the goal. You were, after all, his beloved wife, his sunshine, his pride. Quickly, it turned out that on top of all these things, you were quite deadly.

You began taking missions, standing on top of a group consisting of the best ninja from Konoha – ANBU, as Tobirama called it. A set of exceptional individuals, the most skilled ones available. It was a project that Senju wished to finalize, it was meant to provide the village with safety, with the strong asset able to infiltrate, fight and protect and you… You became the leader of it, representing the highest skill of them all and supporting him in establishing the unit.

Tobirama found you incredible, time after time finding himself in awe because of your achievements. There was no such term as impossibility, it seemed, everything he assigned you with, you finished with success, caring about your team well-being and the quality of the process. As much as he felt the endless amount of pride, his heart was also filled with fear. The idea of losing you haunted his dreams anytime you were outside Konoha, dealing with something he himself ordered you. The contradicting feelings weighed heavy on his shoulders – he wished to keep you safe and yet, it was only fair to give you tasks that were relevant to what you were able to do. It would be against his nature to spare you the difficulties, to limit your progress only because of the selfish want of keeping you far from harm. That led him to assigning you with one of the most difficult missions he had to offer.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” he had told you the day before. You remember him joining you in bed late at night and the way he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest was enough of a hint. You knew him well. “I don’t want you to take that mission,” honest as always, and nervous when he spoke quietly. His roughed-up fingertips were circling little ovals against the delicate skin over your spine, his hand buried underneath the shirt that you used to sleep in.

“I know,” you replied, pressing your lips to his bare chest. Oh, how well you knew him. The moment he gave you the details of the job earlier that day in his office, you already knew how hesitant he was and once you read the description, you understood why. “But it’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“How can you promise me something like that?” He found his way to your chin, lifting your head up just enough to look you in the eyes. “I know you are strong, you are the most skilled ninja I have, don’t think I’m underestimating you, love. But yet, I can’t help but fear, the idea of you not coming back from that job, from something I send you by my own order… it feels unbearable to think.”

Tobirama wasn’t a man that’s easily scared. In your entire time with him, spending so much time as his wife, you saw him worried at most, only few times so it shook you deeply, seeing his sincere eyes glaring at you in nothing but concern. The soft red shade of them looked straight through your soul, you could feel the way his jaw was tensed when you placed your hand on the side of his handsome face.

“I will come back to you, my lord. I know how dangerous the mission is and I would be lying if I told you that I’m not scared of it. But I also know how important it is, how crucial the data I need to gather is to keep Konoha safe and it is my duty to serve the village. It’s my home, I swore to keep it protected.” Your words were honest, Senju knew that. It was difficult, the hidden leaf stood on the verge of war, it was nearly palpable in the air and the information that you were meant to collect had a power to stop it before the blood of innocents was spilled.

The love you developed to Konoha was something Tobirama couldn’t help but admire in you. Despite it being a foreign land to you, you grew to care of it as if you lived here since the beginning. Truth is, you did feel like you were born in it. What hidden leaf gave you was freedom, was love. It showered you in things that before that, you only silently dreamt about, it was a place that you truly began being yourself, hence why you wished to give it back all of yourself.

“I know you’re gonna do your best. It’s just… I wouldn’t mind standing to fight later if you’d say you don’t want to take the job. I wouldn’t mind giving my life in battle if it could save yours.”

“Your life is too precious to be lost, Tobirama,” you leaned into him just slightly, your lips a breath away from his. “You are needed, you are so incredibly fundamental for this village to function properly, you have no idea. Without you, there would be no Konoha, doesn’t matter how great of a hokage your brother is. You are what makes this place a home to so many people, you are the mind and heart of it, so please don’t say such things.”

“It’s you who have my heart. If I have to risk losing it along with you, how could I be one for the village?” Senju exhaled, closing his eyes for a brief moment before closing the distance and pressing his mouth to yours. A kiss of love that’s indescribable, it bore everything that he was too afraid to word out loud. “Just… come back to me.”

“I will always come back to you, my love.”

The reassurance you gave, although carrying uncertainty, you followed with yet another kiss. The intimacy you shared later that night carried an unspoken goodbye, it was intense and oh so full of passion as if it was the last time you were to be so close.

Early in the morning, you were already gone, heading towards the unknown land where you were meant to spend the next weeks, working undercover. In the morning, Tobirama watched you leave, hating himself for letting you go as the sweet taste of the last kiss you shared still lingered over his lips.

* * *

“Later,” Tobirama groaned, responding to the soft sound of knocking against the wooden doors to his office. He was busy, digging through copious amounts of documents and reports, annoyed to the very core of his existence. His mind was already far in the future, balls deep in the upcoming negotiations that were meant to take place in Konoha in just few days. They were important, the safety of the village depended on the results and Tobirama made it very, very clear that unless the matter is absolutely, death-threatening urgent, he’s unavailable to anyone.

But the knob twisted and despite his objections and rough tone the doors opened and he couldn’t help but scoff. His blood was boiling, his brows creasing and even the deep breath he took, trying to calm down his nerves didn’t help at all. The rage inside of him burned with hellfire, it got him out of his chair, smashing his fist on the desk.

“I said fucking late—” he stopped. The sight of you, standing there in the entrance to his office made his voice catch in his throat. Was he even breathing? He felt like the world faded away, time slowed down and the chaos inside his mind calmed in an instant when his eyes met yours. He couldn’t believe, were you really here? In the last report he’s got from you, the one from a month prior, you wrote that at least twelve weeks will be needed to finalize the job and yet here you were, standing just few meters in front of him. After a year.

“I heard you the first time, my lord,” you chuckled softly, watching how his expression changed from rageful annoyance to surprised confusion. It was a display of emotions you were yet to familiarize yourself with, giving Tobirama’s spare range of expressions. “I was told you’re busy and expecting no one to bother you, but I took the freedom to disobey.”

The Senju stood there, flabbergasted for a little longer before his head dropped. A wave of laughter that shook his body made all of his tension go away. You really were there, he could see you, feel your chakra. After long, twelve months of undercover mission he gave you, the one that required you to stay in Iwagakure, gathering intel of governmental nature you finally got back. You had not seen each other during that time and Tobirama had only received few letters from you, all of which being more like short reports about the mission status rather than lover’s notes. But now, you were here, safe, alive.

“You came back,” he said, his voice so much lighter than what he greeted you with. Tobirama took a second to look at his desk, assessing the piles of documents before he pushed everything to the side. Papers flew off and scrolls unraveled on the floor but he couldn't possibly care less about any of those, when you were here, finally after a year of absence, in a flesh and bones. Being so messy was unlikely of him, you had never met someone more organized than Tobirama, but to him, it was more important to now have you on this desk, rather than documents.

“I promised I’ll come back to you, didn’t I?” You smiled, pushing the doors closed behind you and approaching him, placing the box with all of the reports and information regarding your latest work on the floor, before you circled the furniture, meeting him finally.

“You did,” he replied, finding his way to press his lips to yours. His large hands pulled you closer by the back of your neck and you hooked your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in the silver strands of his hair, scratching his scalp gently and causing him to purr into the kiss. It tasted sweet, addicting, with the longing being carried through every movement of his lips and tongue. It was heavy with feelings, breathtaking, nearly suffocating with how much it bore, how many unspoken words, how many worries that were now releasing. Tobirama pulled you towards himself, your body now flush to his own as he made you lean against the edge of his desk. It took no time before you were situated on top of it, with his large frame between your legs and his hands wandering all over the lines of your figure.

Tobirama was hungry. He had no idea how much until he saw you, until he tasted you. You taught him how to love, you opened the world of intimacy and touch to him, you showed him the pleasure of marriage and once you took all of it away, he was lost. The need to have you close was unfulfilled for such a long time where he couldn’t even see you, it left him with the burn of craving inside his chest. He was incomplete without you, unable to focus as much as he would usually do, his mind was wandering to the places where your image was stored.

“I missed you so much, my love,” you whimpered, feeling his lips smearing the wet traces of kisses along your neck and down your throat. At that moment, he was not caring about the marks he was leaving, he wanted to make you his own again. Nothing else mattered, only you, the taste of your mouth, the sweet scent of your skin. He would love to be more romantic, to welcome you with something more appropriate – a nice dinner, some pretty flowers, but being romantic was never his strong suit and frankly, things like bouquets and food were last on his mind, when he had you near his body.

“Love,” he groaned against your pulse, his hands making contact with the bare skin on your sides where he pushed the fabric of your black blouse up. He missed you so damn much. His body longed for your touch, for your skin flush to his, for everything that came with you.

“I thought you were busy, my dearest,” you teased, your voice soft and playful as you run your hand down his stomach. It was risky to do so in his office but he did nothing to prevent you from reaching his manhood and as you did, you stroked him gently through the fabric of his pants. A breath hitched in his chest, your touch burned him with lust, he felt like a fire was consuming him just because you put your touch over him.

“I am,” he muttered, sucking a spot onto your neck, reminding your body to whom it belongs to and you gasped softly at the feeling of his lips against your delicate skin. “God, I’m so damn busy.”

» NEXT PART

TAGLIST: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog

#naruto #naruto imagines #shippuden imagines #naruto shippuden #shippuden #tobirama #tobirama senju #senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama imagines #tobirama fluff #tobirama smut #tobirama fanfic #tobirama fanfiction #tobirama x you #senju x reader #senju x you #senju fanfiction #tobirama imagine #tobirama arranged marriage #tobirama senju x reader #naruto x reader #konoha founders #senju tobirama #senju imagines #naruto fluff #senju fluff #tobirama x y/n #tobirama senju x you #tobirama senju x y/n

[kennhiro]

Proud of you | Tobirama x student reader

Situation: You almost fail chunin exam ( 1 vs 1 exam)

Warning: None

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

You used to be a normal villager living in a small hut, far from ninja/shinobi things in the countryside of konoha.

Until someday a white haired man come into your house asking for a place to stay for a few days. He came for his research of a certain scroll buried somewhere near.

And that's your very first encounter with a shinobi... The hokage itself.

You were curious about "shinobi" world, eventually he gave you a quick lesson on how to control chakra, cast a simple jutsu and share his thought with you. As the time goes by he realize that you have talent in it, judging by how smart you are as a villager. He took an interest on you and ask you to become one of his student (perhaps this is the main question you've been waiting for).

Ofcourse being one of his student means you have to attend the shinobi academy too (since you want to be a shinobi for real).

You study hard in the academy, textbook-question is not a big deal for you, but when it comes to real-time combat... It's still a bit difficult for you.

Until in the chunin exam you have to fight a strong opponent in a 1v1 test.

You're nervous, and so does Tobirama. He can't interfere the fight like he always did when you got yourself in a trouble.

This time... You'll get hurt... In front of him.

As the battle begin, you can sense an intimidating aura coming from your opponent.

You tried to evade most of his attacks but it's not good enough, resulting he land a few hits on you. You can't waste you energy, since you have a limited endurance you won't last long.

The battle goes on, while you getting cornered by him you could clearly see how much Tobirama woried about you behind those expression-less face of his.

When you get huge blow from your opponent, causing you to fell on your knees, Tobirama stood up from the hokage chair, everyone is taken aback by the sudden response from the hokage himself.

A sense of worry could be seen in his red eyes, yet he can do nothing about it.

She wait until her opponent get close to her. Thinking that she couldn't do anything and accepting her defeat, he get close to land one final blow.

When he get close, she immediately get back up, throwing a marked kunai towards him and do the "Flying Raijin Jutsu". This get him by surprised, causing him to fell on his knees, eventually losing his consciousness.

After defeating your opponent, you are now declared as a winner and passed the test.

From a far you could see that Tobirama is trying his best to hide his proud-face. "You did well" Tobirama whisper.

#tobirama senju #senju #senju tobirama #hashirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama #tobirama x y/n #tobirama fanfic

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter XVIII

Chapter 18/?

Wordcount 1,7k

Title Need

Fandom Naruto

Pairing Tobirama Senju X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 .  7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warning (s): none

Tagging @uzumakgi (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just send an ask or a message 😉)

N. A.: It's just the continuation of the previous chapter's scene lol In the next one, I swear I'll take them out of this inn because I myself am getting suffocated for seeing them there for so long..........

In your opinion, what was really tiring about being sick was not the sickness itself – it was the impossibility of moving on with your life duties as you should.

You got dressed right after leaving the bathtub instead of doing it in the room to avoid a temperature shock in case you went there with only your towel. You were quicker to put on your clothes that time, but you still sensed some aching in your muscles whenever you tried to do harder movements. When you left the bathroom and went back to the futon, you saw the sheets were changed. Were the previous ones sweaty or dirty?

You thought of asking about this, but gave up when you noticed Tobirama bringing a heavy blanket on his shoulder and a cup of hot tea in his right hand: he has left the room for a moment to take those things for you with the people on the first floor.

You stared at him with inquiring eyes.

- You don’t need to worry – he said, putting the blanket over the mattress and giving you the cup – There are enough stuff for everyone out there. No one is going to stay without assistance because I brought this to you.

You said a whispered “thank you” and accepted the tea from his hands, sitting on the mattress right after. Your husband unfolded the blanket and helped you to wrap it around your shoulders, then went to the window and took some time looking at the outside. There was a moment of calm silence between you, each of you too occupied with your thoughts to start a conversation.

When you decided to talk, your cup was half empty and there was no longer steam coming up from it.

- Should we send a message to Konoha about the situation here?

Tobirama woke up from his deliberations, but didn’t startle. When he turned to you, the look in his eyes indicated that he was thinking of this too, and his reply only confirmed it.

- I considered sending a Shadow Clone to my brother, but it’s not a good idea to spend chakra after what we’ve been through last night and when we still have a long road ahead us. I will talk to the team from the Land of Wind and see if they can arrange paper and ink, so we can send a bird to Konoha.

- Good – you sipped more of your cold tea – On the other hand, I don’t want to send any message to my own village. Not when my father sent that letter to us.

You were looking directly to your cup’s interior, but you sensed his red eyes upon you.

- Y/n-san, let me ask you: what do you intend to do once we reach your village?

You knew the answer. You’ve been thinking of this since you left your house in Konoha. Your fingers held the cup more firmly.

- First, I’m going to check on my sister, of course. Right after that, I will talk to my father about that letter. I think I already said to you I could guess who gave him the idea for it, right? – you cleaned your sore throat and took a last sip from the tea – I need to find out exactly what happened after I left the compound.

Tobirama didn’t reply immediately. At first, you thought he was just thinking of the case, but then you realized that he remembered that you compared him to the person you thought to be the responsible for your father’s decision, as clearly as yourself.

You opened your mouth to say something, but a strange feeling – if pride or shame, you weren’t sure – stopped your voice from coming out and made you bit your lip; you did it with such strength that it started to hurt. You lowered your eyes to your cup again, now empty, and tried to think of what you were going to say, but had no success: were you going to apologize? To reaffirm what you said before? To try and figure out how he really felt about it?

You sighed… but your opportunity wasn’t entirely lost.

You noticed when your husband left the windowsill and approached you, offering his hand; you looked at your cup and took a second to understand he was asking for it. When you gave it back to him, your fingers rubbed on each other in a gesture that would go unnoticed if it happened days ago. However, you saw it as a chance now, and acted accordingly.

When his hand moved away a bit, you stretched yours and grabbed his wrist, your fingers barely surrounding it. That made him stop; his eyes widened a bit with the surprise and you sensed your throat tightening, but that wouldn’t restrain you this time.

- I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but… it was stupid from my part to compare you with that elder – you passed your free hand on the back of your neck in discomfort – I couldn’t be further from the truth.

For a moment, none of you seemed to breathe inside the room. You were dying on the expectancy of a response, and he was trying to process what he just heard. Your heartbeats were exploding inside your ears, and you didn’t dare move. Was he going to accept your words, or reject them? Was he going to mock you? To believe in you? Was he…

- I’m going to take this to the kitchen – he spoke in what sounded like a whisper if compared to his usual tone – Then I’m going to talk to the shinobi and see if they can help us with the message. Please, take some rest.

You nodded in silence, relief and bitterness blended inside you while your hand loosened its grip around him. He slipped his wrist from your reach and walked to the door with no additional words.

***

What you remembered from that strange day was that you spent most of it sleeping.

After that shy attempt of apologizing, you laid on the futon and might fell unconscious while waiting for your husband to come back. You only opened your eyes again when it was already sunset, or what the day offered instead of one: you glanced at the window and noticed the clouds still lingered in the sky, that time spreading a dark, rosy light over the land and inside the room. You moved the blanket just enough to sit up, but kept it around you when you decided to leave the bed and go to the window. A chilling breeze entered through it and made you stop to adjust the heavy fabric around your neck and chest; with a slight burn in your eyes, a reminiscence of sleep, you observed the outside, the top of the trees covered with that magenta shade that used to welcome the evenings.

A low creak was heard at your back. You glanced over your shoulder and noticed the door being opened and quickly closed by your husband. He brought some food with him, which was left upon that small table he borrowed from the inn’s owner and was still there for your use, then came to your side.

You felt a large hand over your left shoulder and his voice calling you. When you turned to him, you saw his fingers grabbing the blanket and taking it off your neck while he mumbled an “excuse me”; before you could ask what he was doing, you felt him brushing your disheveled hair away form your shoulder and touching your neck on both sides with the back of his hand, then your forehead. You shivered with the contact.

- The fever is not so bad, thankfully – he adjusted the blanket around you – You just need proper rest.

You nodded. Tobirama was going to leave you and sit by the table, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him. You had something to say.

- About what I said earlier…

You started the sentence, but you found out you couldn’t finish it. In fact, you’ve already said what you had to say, but you somehow felt the need of more words, more explanation. Was that really necessary, or were you just wanting to fulfill a selfish need to chat after all those hours isolated between those four walls? Were you doing what you had to do or just embarrassing yourself? Were you starting… to need him?

Whatever the case, all small discomforts were ended by his usual practicality.

- It’s alright for me, y/n-san – he touched your hand upon his arm for a second – Now, let’s have our dinner before it gets cold.

***

After a silent meal, Tobirama went to take a bath. You stated that you were going to organize the table (the plates would be taken downstairs the next morning, at breakfast time) and get back to the futon.

You were already lying on it when your husband came back. You didn’t want to open your eyes, so you guessed what was going on by the sounds: the bathroom’s door opened, letting waves of steam out, then was left like that, the warmth spreading across the room; calm steps were taken toward the futon, followed by the pressure of a body upon its fabric. The blanket was moved a bit, leaving your back exposed, then it was put back on its place, but now you had company. You sensed an arm wrapping around you and a warm chest upon your back. You startled, but resisted the impulse to flinch.

A simple, but weird conversation followed.

- Are you okay lying beside someone who’s sick?

- I’ve already got some things worse than a cold. Your condition is not a problem for me.

- I see. Have you always been so strong? Is it a family thing?

- You can say that.

A moment of silence, and it restarted.

- And what about the letter?

- I managed to send it. Fortunately, they still had some paper and ink. If the weather collaborates, my brother will receive it in two days.

- That’s good. I was observing the sky before you came back. I don’t think it’s going to rain again. At least not like that...

You yawned at the end of that phrase and couldn’t recall how that chattering ended.

#naruto fanfic #naruto fic #tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama fanfic #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Part VII

Synopsis: You would say that you grew up together. From children, to teenagers, to young leaders, you did nothing but be who you were and Tobirama would forever name his love for you as the reason he hated the Uchiha.

Word Count: 5k

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

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Notes: Considering Izuna and Sasuke look so much alike, part of me wondered if I could use a picture of Sasuke for the front panel and if anyone would truly notice if I claimed it was a panel of Izuna haha

The gates to the Uchiha settlement were open, and enemy forces began gathering outside.

However, when describing the formidable territory the Uchiha had collected over the past few years, referring to their land as a settlement was a rather egregious understatement. The Uchiha gathered upon a sprawling territory equalling half the Grand Mountain range in addition to a handsome chunk of the flats, with the main sector they called home being in the center of the dense forest on a level section of the elevated land. 

After a long and strenuous trek up the mountain, the foreign battalions sat in wait among the tree branches in the shadow of their last obstacle. Tall, jagged tree trunks lined the main sector of the Uchiha civilization, forming a wall stretching almost infinitely in both directions. The barrier was interrupted only by a single open gate. 

It sprawled open in the cool night air. The sharpened ends of the wooden fortress pointed up toward the heavens, casting a jagged shadow across the ground to the treeline like ferocious teeth lining an agape jaw. 

A slight breeze caused the leaves to waver as the shadow-shrouded leadership pondered the open gate. Desperation and bloodthirst were almost palpable among the forces, exacerbated by fatigue and impatience. 

They ultimately trickled in against their better judgment, passing through the mouth of the Uchiha settlement in the moonlight. Years of passage in and out of the gate reduced the walking paths to little more than dirt and weeds. 

The battalions pressed on. The commanding warriors motioned for their squads to fan out in the darkness, moving low and quietly to fan out among homes and buildings. The battalions proceeded stealthily across the beaten-down ground, filling the entire west end of the camp before they squatted in the darkness with weapons at the ready.

Stillness once again overtook the quiet compound. 

The bright light of the full moon illuminated the settlement’s center, but the presence of the wooden fixtures left starkly black shadows around the camp’s perimeter. Even for nighttime, the shadows lingered a bit too largely among the buildings. 

Not a single Uchiha walked the dirt paths or stood guard in the tall perches that littered the fortress walls. Those had been the largest consideration in the foreign battalion’s strategy, as with the sharingan eye, a single guard could see down to the base of the mountain and miles beyond. And yet, not a single Uchiha soul was to be seen or sensed in the dimness of the night.

A muffled grunt sounded at the back of one of the squads. Members of the rear squads turned in alert, only to find nothing there but a swordsman-less sword and a patch of trampled dirt. 

And then the gate closed.

The honed ends slammed into ditches made in the ground long ago by movement. And before any response could be given to the disappearance of their most rear troops, all attention shot to the sealed-off exit. The invading force couldn’t help the surprised and horrified gasps that echoed through their ranks. Leadership hushed them quickly, whispering harsh words to recenter their feeble troops. 

Red eyes began to illuminate the darkness. 

Gurgling noises were swept off into the night as the warriors could only turn just in time to witness the corpses of their comrades being dragged off into the shadows. Kunai flew silently through the air. Blunt noises announced their impact, followed by the wet, squelching noises of blood spatter. 

Members at the front of their squads were quick to light torches, illuminating the battlefield in a wave of flame to reveal the creeping Uchiha waiting in the murk. The Uchiha held their weapons at the ready with their piercing gazes. Some crouched near the ground, holding the bodies of warriors before them with slit throats. A few of the captured were twitching; heads hung as the barely alive men were forced to watch their own blood stain the fronts of their armor red. 

With rage and fear in their eyes, the attacking forces led a charge, hollering out in the air with raised weapons. Their battle cries were enough for the battalions to summon back some courage lost at the sight of their fallen comrades. The clanging metal of swords filled the atmosphere as shouts rose toward the night sky. Uchiha stormed out from their hiding places, making expert use of their superior ocular abilities and quality weaponry. 

The resistance was futile. 

The sound of battle rang out, cries of pain only fueling the will of the Uchiha to defend their home. Forces gathered near the center of the main entry path, all having been stopped from moving farther. The enemy forces tried to press on in the face of their obstacle, but the bodies continued to drop. A mass of flesh and metal, the impact made an unmistakable clatter as carcasses hit the dirt below. One by one, they fell with a swiftness that dared to resemble mercy, and above them all, Madara emerged. 

Madara Uchiha, who already had a tall and bulky figure in his teenage years, had filled out his crimson-red armor. It proudly adorned his broad chest and squared shoulders, the pieces clanging together harshly as he moved— like a snake’s warning rattle. Madara’s foot found soft flesh as he stood tall upon the mountain of corpses, his oversized weapon slung across the back of his shoulders and the full moon framing his head. He wore his scars pridefully, displaying his well-earned trophies as symbols of his strength. Madara was no longer a boy green in his leadership skills but a battle-hardened man.

And his vast, infamous reputation proceeded him.

A few warriors stood strong against him, holding their swords up as they cried out rageful battle cries, ready to engage in combat again. But they were far and few between compared to the forces that turned and attempted to flee. 

Madara watched them with a critical eye, and the remaining warriors couldn’t help but glance out of their peripherals in horror as their remaining comrades were cut down as they ran back toward the closed gates. 

It was a massacre led by Izuna Uchiha.

He expertly swung his katana— his movements looking far more like a dance than a slaughter— pivoting in a single place as he cut down the fleeing forces that passed. The retreating forces who managed to make it past pounded on the closed entrance as those on the outside of the crowd were slowly picked off one by one. 

They clamored over each other, stepping on one another as they tried to climb up the towering fortress walls. Their wailing and begging resounded into the darkness of the night as Izuna moved in, his Mangekyō Sharingan allowing him to pay little regard to any attacking soldiers as he cut them down with ease.

The night turned silent once again. 

Tall torches were lit, lighting the battlefield in a rich glow. The cleanup began as Uchiha dragged corpses and barely alive men through the dirt to a pyre. Children scrambled through the blood-stained village to collect weaponry that could be melted down and reforged. 

Madara searched the piles of bodies himself, stalking through them like a proud tiger. Sharingan still ignited, he searched for survivors. Madara plucked one out of the pile by his hair. A strangled, boyish cry pierced the rotting atmosphere as Madara threw him down into a puddle of mud and blood. 

The swordsman, a boy no older than seventeen, picked his face up and laid against the bodies of his slain comrades. A gaping wound stretched across his stomach at the bottom of his ribcage, staining the cloth he wore under his armor a sickly dark red.

Madara stared down at him with severe eyes. The black patterns were still swirling within the reds of his irises. The young swordsman met his gaze head-on like a cornered and wounded animal, teeth clenched and brow knitted.

His shaking fingers tightened weakly around the hilt of his sword, and in one last act of defiance, the young warrior pointed the tip of his weapon at Madara. 

The entire sword shook.

Madara watched the display without expression, meeting the young warrior's gaze with a blank scowl. The young warrior quirked a semblance of a smile, painfully aware of his impending fate. 

Madara extinguished his sharingan, ignoring how the sword’s tip swayed with the boy’s dwindling strength. It was kicked away, and Madara took the boy by the hair again, dragging him off.

The young warrior moaned in agony but ultimately couldn’t do much to resist. Madara dragged the boy along the ground, filth that wasn’t his own collecting in the young warrior’s mouth as the skin on his torso tore. His head hit one stair, then another, and when Madara threw him down again, he found himself on a wood floor. 

The room was warm. 

When the young warrior opened his eyes, he could barely make out what he was looking at, but then the handcrafted cabinets became focused. Vials of plants in vials lined the shelves. Dried flowers sat suspended in liquids. He couldn’t take his eye off the jar in the center of his sight: a thick-looking clear liquid with the heads of white flowers floating within. The petals were slightly curled, but the flowers retained their overall structure. He couldn’t think; he could only stare at the little flowers suspended inside.

He heard footsteps above him, somewhere just farther into the little building. The boy laid curled in on himself, unable to see much more than the shelf in front of him and Madara’s long legs, which ended somewhere out of his sight. The sound of the steps he couldn’t place was light and stopped short of him.

“I will grab another cot,” a woman spoke.

Cot? For him?

“No need,” Madara quickly cut her off. A few other Uchiha warriors entered the door, but the young swordsman could barely register anything. “Handle this swiftly.”

Another set of steps vibrated harshly through the wood floor. The young warrior’s eyes moved weakly, spying a familiar green armor from one of his allies. An Uchiha warrior hauled the corpse. The green-clad sleeve wavered limply in the air. He might have wondered how many of his comrades had been taken to this place if he had had more strength.

“Stay here.” The lighter steps walked off again. Even though they were traveling away, they were louder this time. The wood floor adjusted. The young warrior’s chest clenched, instinctively jumpy at unseen movement near his head. 

“I have informed you that there is no need.”

“Ah, let another boy bleed out onto my floor then. I will ensure that the mop makes it to your hand,” the woman quickly snapped back. More noises resounded through the wood floor as she seemed to drag something forward. It sounded large if such a sound existed. There came a pause. “Well, do you intend to make yourself useful?”

“Woman!” The shout was loud enough to make the boy flinch. He wrapped an arm over his stomach. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. He could hardly feel the sting of the dirt contaminating his insides. “Do not push your luck.”

Before he could comprehend, the young warrior was lifted up. He gasped in pain, a noise of distress falling from his lips as his wound stretched before he settled on an elevated cot. A thick layer of fabric sat between him and the thin mat. A lantern light flashed, blinding him for just a moment as a set of hands came over his wound. 

When he cracked open his eyes, he saw you. You stood over him, one hand stopping the bleeding of his large wound with a clean cloth. He flinched away as the other came toward his forehead. You brushed away some wet strands of hair stuck to his sticky forehead. 

Madara stood a few feet behind you, watching over your shoulder. He took a long stride forward. 

“That is enough with your nonnecessities,” he protested. You dismissed him with a sound of annoyance, holding your hand out to prevent him from getting any closer. 

“If you cannot control yourself, you may wait outside,” you nodded without a second thought, departing from the young warrior’s vision again. 

“Woman—” The foreign boy felt a sharp movement somewhere out of his vision. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of quick pivots and the sound of fabric snapping. Madara’s armor rattled. But the sound of a palm slapping skin that the boy anticipated didn’t come, and after a beat of slowly declining tension, you padded somewhere deeper into the room.

You left a cool breeze in your wake, and to his surprise, Madara remained quiet where he stood. The Uchiha clan head puffed to himself, the simmering of his temper not yet reaching a boil.

The door swung open, allowing night air to flow into the room, but the new spectator didn’t announce his presence. 

The foreign warrior could hear you fiddling with something in your hands. Rapidly weakening, all the young warrior could do was hold the fabric you slipped under his hand on his wound. 

When you appeared over him again, the lantern light illuminated the back of your head like a halo. And as you pressed something into his mouth, he couldn’t help but consider you one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. 

Even at this hour, your hair draped gracefully over your brow. You had grown into your awkward features from adolescence, your immature frame having settled nicely into a distribution of healthy adult weight and functional muscle. You filled out in the way your biology intended. This might have been the first time he’s ever seen you, but the way your skilled hands and sharp mind held a commanding presence over your apothecary didn’t escape him— even as the elite Uchiha warriors hovered over your shoulder with every move. 

You must be Madara’s wife, the young warrior presumed somewhere in the fog of his dizzying head. He considered the thought amusing, for who else could talk to the infamous warrior Madara like you had?

“Tell me—” You spoke gently and turned the young warrior’s head to the side to face you. You wiped off some of the grime that caked his face. —“What clan do you hail from?” Your hand wrapped gingerly around his wrist, and two fingers rested below his palm. The words spilled from his lips without a second thought. 

“Sugai,” he answered as if his throat had retained strength while the rest of his body waivered. The word spilled out from his lips. He hardly registered it himself.

The handful of warriors who stood behind Madara muttered amongst themselves. 

“The Sugai Clan…”

“Were all your comrades members of the Sugai Clan?” you questioned. Were. You didn’t even have to leave your apothecary to know what happened to the rest. The young warrior didn’t register your tense. He only answered.

“Not all,” he said before his voice drifted into a faint whisper. You leaned down so that your ear sat adjacent to his lips. Strands of your hair fell over the clammy skin of his face. You kept a keen watch over the young warrior’s hands. The cloth on his stomach had changed colors completely. 

You continued your questioning and interrogation in a soft, low voice. You muttered to each other in the lantern light. Madara waited with frustrated anticipation, simmering to himself. After all, Madara had little patience for your involvement to begin with. 

“It appears that the Senju have migrated north.” You finally resurfaced, adjusting your robes and releasing your hold on the babbling boy on the cot below. “They are snatching up alliances, it seems.”

“The Sugai Clan has allied with the Senju?” one of the Uchiha warriors questioned from behind you. Madara swiftly hushed him.

“Silence.” The room returned to a standstill in an instant, nearly militantly. Madara took a moment to think to himself, crossing his thick arms over his blood-stained chest plate. He stared at the dying warrior on the cot, watching as the pool of red crept onto the fabric below. His eyes flickered to yours. —“Not just the Sugai, but all minor clans in the east have been pushed from their territories. The raid tonight was unsurprising, to say the least—” Madara glanced outside through a sliver in the ajar door as the bodies piled up outside. “Clearly.”

“Four other small clans to the southeast have allied with the Sugai now that the land between Uchiha and Senju dwindles by the day,” you added, leaning against the counter. A jar of processed flower buds— the same that you had shoved into the young warrior’s mouth— sat next to your elbow. Your eyes flickered again to Madara’s, watching him closely to gauge his demeanor. You were the interrogator, but then again, when the head of the Uchiha ordered silence, even you were not immune. 

“Indeed—” He chose not to regard you. —“We expected as much. This information is not new.” 

Without a second thought, Madara swiftly cut the throat of the Sugai warrior before swiftly retreating out the door with his war fan. 

One of the men behind him collected the young warrior, throwing him over his shoulder to be burned with the rest of the corpses. The boy coughed up blood, spewing it onto the wood flooring.

The door flapped back and forth in the doorframe. You watched as Madara and his pack of elite soldiers left between sways of the door. They grew smaller in the distance with every wave. You lurched forward, intent on following after them, but an arm swiftly wrapped around your torso. The motion almost swept you off your feet as Izuna’s shoulder blocked you from racing out the door. He gave a bit into your velocity, pivoting a half-step backward.

“Do not go outside,” he warned. You gripped the arm holding you, looking into Izuna’s dark eyes. A neutral expression held his face in acute severity. You didn’t miss how he held you at a calculated distance. Izuna’s lip shuddered once. 

“You are not my keeper, Izuna. It is not your place to stand in my way.” You brushed him off and ripped your arm away from his stern grip before readjusting the shoulder of your robes. He let you, watching the backs of your robes while uncertainty swam in his dark irises. You set out through the door.

“Madara!”

Madara ignored you, pretending not to hear as he stormed away, but by the third shout of his name, he reluctantly stopped in his tracks. His posse of elite military figures passed by him as Madara heaved a heavy sigh, his armor clattering with the motion before he turned to you. You made your way down the stairs. Smoke and mild debris wafted through the air as the Uchiha warriors made short work of tidying up the settlement. 

“Madara!” You called again as he lumbered over to you. He held his back erect with his weapon still clasped tightly in his hand. Madara said nothing as he expressed his usual stoic demeanor. You stood at the bottom step of the apothecary with one foot on the ground. Madara stopped a few meters away, still within earshot. He did not appear anywhere near as concerned as you were as you questioned him with wide eyes, “Are you unconcerned that Hashirama has been named head of the Senju clan?”

Your words remained stuck in the air, caught by the particles and impurities that danced in the atmosphere. The smell of death floated in the cool, nighttime wind. 

Madara’s lip dipped into a frown. 

“Lack of concern would be reckless indeed,” Madara muttered, puffing another deep breath out his chest. He pivoted slightly, turning his attention upward toward the moon. “However, it is not as reckless as refusing an alliance with the Senju based on Hashirama’s lack of leadership experience alone in favor of attacking the Uchiha. Small clans certainly have foresight equivalent to their size. The Sugai prove to be no different.”

“I worry about what this change in leadership will bring. It is most unpredictable.”

“Then it is fortunate that you are not in a position to worry yourself over such things.” Madara barked out what could have been mistaken for a laugh. “We have engaged with the Senju countless times. Formidable as they may be, the strength of the Uchiha is far greater.” 

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, returning to head deeper into the settlement again. Now that you had inserted yourself into village politics, Madara had had enough of humoring you. You followed. 

“Tobirama Senju is a foul, beasty man. I can only imagine how— how objectionable the older one must be.”

Madara moved with wide strides, continuing with extra swiftness to purposefully lose you. 

“And what do you know of Tobirama?” Madara scoffed. He faced forward, completely missing the expression of dread that fell across your face. 

“The tales from Izuma, of course!” You quickened your pace.

Madara stopped once again, but you ran straight into his backplate this time. You stumbled back, a hand to your nose. Madara barked orders into the orderly chaos in front of you. He had taken to his role as clan head long ago and excelled in the position. 

“For yet another time, you need not concern yourself with affairs on the battlefield. Do you understand this?” Madara only spared a glance over his shoulder at you. His irises flickering across your form with something akin to skepticism. Madara averted his gaze before you could meet it.

“You bring foreign boys to my doorsteps to rifle information from—”

“Enemy warriors who attacked your kinsmen and home.”

—“And you expect—”

“I expect you to hold your tongue and obey your clan head.” You stopped in the middle of your sentence at the sight of Madara’s sharingan. You frowned but looked away. You had pressed as far as Madara would allow. “Clean what you must in the apothecary swiftly, then go straight home.”

You retreated the way you came back toward the apothecary, sparing not even a pout of defiance at your clan head. 

When you arrived, you found your space pleasantly lit as you pressed open the door. Izuna stood in the center of the room by the counter. A bundle of incense sat between his clasped hands. Izuna muttered a prayer as the smoke cleansed the apothecary. Death had occurred here, after all.

Izuna had lit every lantern and candle in the apothecary with his fire style, and the warm embers lit your workshop in a serene glow. The flame flickered in the reflection of the jar that held your truth-telling flower buds. A small line of smoke drifted from the incense, sailing up toward the high ceiling far above your heads. He followed the wisps with his eyes, tilting his chin up as he appeared deep in thought. 

You guided the apothecary door shut behind you. Izuna continued to withhold his eye contact, almost as if you wouldn’t notice him and shoo him away if he didn’t meet your eye. The cleaning supplies had already been brought out of storage. The bloody cot— along with the others from earlier in the night— was gone, along with the bloody streak across your floor. 

You stepped forward to inspect the wood paneling. No, some of the blood stains still remained, deepening the color of the previous one, which deepened the one before that. 

“Women should not have to be so close to such barbarism,” Izuna spoke, gaze training on the little jar of flower buds. He placed the incense in a ceramic holder, lingering for only a second before finally turning to face you directly. 

The orientation of his clothes appeared neat compared to the rest of him. Sweat, dirt, and blood layered his skin, deepening the complexion of his skin tone. Spatterings littered his armor. A prominent line of rust-red extended from his chest to over his right eye, bisecting his face with sanguinary matter. But his hands were clean— starkly pale and pristine in comparison to the blackish mix of earth and gore that stained his skin above his wrists. 

“I will be standing guard outside,” he said, “I am well aware that you will not be sleeping tonight. I would normally protest, but it is preferable to you venturing outside.”

“Izuna—”

He offered you a nod and little else as he began to walk toward the door, the back of his robes fluttering with his stride. You stepped after him, swiftly snatching his sleeve. Izuna turned to you, his motion gentle. 

“Izuna, please. You are being ridiculous.” It was uncomfortable meeting his eye. He looked intently at you as if just speaking was a contract binding his full, undivided attention. Even without his sharingan, it felt like he was looking right through you. “Stay. Let me treat your hands and cleanse your armor.”

Izuna’s gaze flickered gently down to your hand as he slotted his index finger into your grip on his sullied robes. He cocked his head to the side, more interested in searching for grime he may have transferred onto his skin than your protests. 

“My presence here is unsanitary and overstayed.” He took your fingers in his, gently prying your stubborn hold off his sleeve. 

“Bathe then and come back.”

He held your attention as he slowly circled you, backing up until he put himself between you and the door. Izuna continued to gingerly hold your hand as if keeping his touch on you would prevent you from acting recklessly. His lips quirked to the side at your notion, and unlike his older brother, who you could read like an open book, Izuna remained as composed as ever.

“Your attempts to deceive me into disclosing information about the military ventures of the clan are admirable, but I am not so easily fooled.” He gave your hand a soft squeeze.

“As if I would dare attempt to trick you—” You could barely speak the full sentence without your lips crinkling in guilt. Izuna’s cheeks creased, forming deep dimples on both sides of his mouth. He slowly released your hand.

“I will be right outside.”

“We hardly spend time together anymore. Do you remember our expeditions into the forest when we were children?” you trailed off. “Before all that happened…” Izuna suddenly formed an air of seriousness about him. 

Izuna was the only one you told about your encounter with Tobirama— or, more precisely— that Tobirama had been the one to attack you. The feud between the Uchiha and the Senju had raged for generations, but confrontations rarely left the battlefield as the two large clans carved up territory. So when a warrior in training from the Senju attacked an unarmed Uchiha girl, the clan was outraged. 

You left willingly to the coast with family and a few others. Although, given that the art of fishing knots was passed down matrilineally, this wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

You were told it was to practice a protection ritual in the salty waters and lend your hands to bringing in fresh, coastal resources, but a deep part of you knew that the clan leaders worried about the Senju targeting young girls. And if any resource was more valuable to the Uchiha than salted fish or powdered shells, it was the upcoming generation of young women, for who would bear the next generation of Uchiha warriors otherwise?

In the wake of the Senju raid on the village, your relationship with Tobirama weighed heavily on you, blanketing your head and shoulders as his fur had for too many nights by the river. 

Izuna seemed like the right person to tell.

You masked it as a realization. He only asked you how you knew Tobirama had been the one to attack you so long ago. Your response was vague, but Izuna didn’t push. 

“It would not be wise of me to overstay.” His voice was gentle when he finally spoke. His light tone snapped you from the rabbit hole of memories that instantly plagued your head. Izuna backed up to the door, his fingers pressing into the wood. The flames that topped your simple candles wavered, but Izuna’s eyes didn’t budge from yours. He looked at you with a soft certainty. “I will be right outside.” 

“Izuna—” You took a step forward but stopped short. His brows perked up slightly on his forehead as he let out a light hum. He held the door slightly ajar. “I—” Your words left you under the subtle pressure of Izuna’s gaze. You toyed with the seam of your robes but kept your attention locked with his. “Madara still fancies me.”

It was meant to be a question, but the words left your lips definitively, almost like an accusation. Izuna’s expression didn’t change, and his forced stoicism only served to confirm your hunch. The corners of your lips fell with your shoulders. 

You turned with a snap, facing the counter behind you. You gripped the wooden ledge, intending to find something to make you look busy, but to no avail. Izuna continued to stand with the door ajar, unmoving. 

“Why is it always about what Madara wants?” you puffed. Silence overtook the apothecary. The flames continued to waver. “It is true. You are far too loyal, Izuna. Do you not know of such things?”

The door creaked farther open before stopping. You refused to turn around, even as the back of your neck and back began to feel heated by the imaginary gaze that haunted your curiosity. 

You took a breath, tilting your head toward a large jar on one of your shelves. You could just barely make out Izuna’s figure as he stood in the doorway, not wholly committed to facing fully away from you. 

“I will be right outside until you are prepared to retire.”

The wooden door creaked quietly open before swinging closed, wavering in the night.

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

Author Commentary: Timeskiiip! They're all grown up! When I was writing this fic I imagined it like how they reintroduce all the nostalgic characters in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie. That's it, moving forward imagine Foul Creature of the set of pirates! That will certainly work! Tobirama may not be in this chapter, but rest assured this is still a Tobirama fic.

More importantly: In my experience, I always thought that people didn't like when series were, say, more than 5ish chapters. I found that a lot of people lost interest, so I tried to keep chapters themselves long and the quantity of them to a minimum. In my latest poll, most people didn't have a preference, but after that, people liked multiple shorter chapters. I wanted to wrap this series up in 2-4 long chapters, but maybe I'll drag it out a bit so I can post more frequently. Thoughts?

@gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

#Tobirama x reader #Tobirama senju x reader #Madara x reader #Madara uchiha x reader #Tobirama #naruto #naruto x reader #Tobirama senju #Madara uchiha #x reader #x you #reader insert #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto fanfic #naruto founders #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #izuna x reader #izuna uchiha #uchiha izuna

[mysteriouscrimsoneyes]

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

Check it out and enjoy! 

#Sakura Haruno #Hashirama Senju #Tobirama Senju #madara uchiha #hashisaku #TobiSaku #madasaku #fanfic #naruto #Naruto Shippuden #Fanart

[mortyvongola2-0]

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Tobirama Senju x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smutty smut

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oh so many, afab!reader, rough sex, dirty talk, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, way too much overstimulation, copious amounts of cum, oral sex male receiving, copious amounts of fluids, temperature play, virginity kink, breeding kink, praise kink, power kink, aphrodisiacs, stomach bulge, use of inanimate objects for stimulation, Tobi-rail-me, Tobirama's schlong is too big, womb bullying, no refractory period, strong language

A/N: Holy shit this is so long and I’m so sorry it took forever to get out but it’s finally here and I’m so relieved. Again, sorry it took so long but honestly this thing is monstrous. Twice the size of Madara's and almost twice the size of Hashirama's. There's a lot of lore and references in here to the previous Sacrifices and to future ones but you don't have to read either to fully enjoy this.

Thanks so much again to my amazing editing bestie @therantingfangirl and my artistic troll @skydaddy01 for all your hard work helping me make this so great~ You guys are the best. As well as all my tumblr friends who have been patiently waiting and encouraging me. And thank you so much to all of you who waited and enjoyed the previous ones.

Now, without further ado, please enjoy the final fic for the first season of Sacrificed. Sacrificed (Water)

Read it on AO3

A child had been chosen, a young girl only 8 years old. A child with a bright smile and a love of the color green, a child who’d never known a day of hardship, who’s skin was unblemished and who’s laughter could brighten even the darkest of situations—your little sister had been chosen to be the sacrifice. Your mother had dropped to her knees, your father brought to tears, and all you could do was sit and stare as it felt like the world came crashing down around you. How could they do that? Under who’s authority was she chosen?

You wanted to scream, to run through the village and gather an army in protest of such a grotesque decision, but you couldn’t. Your body refused to work with you, and you were only able to sit and stare as your little sister tried to comprehend why her family was suddenly so distraught. The officials who brought your world to ruin stood there and watched, unflinching and uncaring, as your precious little sister cupped your face in her chubby hands. There were tears in her eyes, which brought tears to yours.

 “What’s wrong? What does that mean?” She was scared because you were scared, because your mother wouldn’t stop begging on her knees while your father squeezed his eyes shut and held his wife back from gripping the hem of the officials’ robes as she pleaded for mercy.

This isn’t right, you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wrapped your larger hands around the trembling ones on your cheeks. She’s just a child, if the gods are just they wouldn’t ask for such a sacrifice.

Why her and not you? You were an adult, passed marrying age, some of the village teens had started to call you the old maid because of your single status. They’d laugh as you’d yell back, telling them you weren’t old at all, but of course they never listened. That same question kept repeating itself in your mind. Why her and not me?

“That is all,” the highest official stated. “We will come to collect her for the ceremony next week.”

He turned, as did the other three, and they began to walk away. Why her? You tightened your grip on her small hands. Why must she pay the price for the rest of us? Why not- “me,” you called out. The officials paused and you removed you sister’s hands from your face and held onto them as you stood. “I volunteer in her place.” Your hands shook, you were more afraid than you’d ever been, but your resolve outweighed your fear. A child, not only her but especially one like her didn’t deserve to be so cruelly murdered for everyone else’s sake. “Is that acceptable?”

The group of four stuffy, old men seemed to ponder that as they looked at one another in a panic. They seemed to huddle together for a bit, every second that passed weighed on you like a stone. What if they said no?

I won’t let them take her.

Calls for a sacrifice didn’t happen often, normally the four-village alliance just went about their days as usual, but a drought had begun. The rains had stopped almost five months ago, the crops were suffering and therefore the livestock suffered, and with both the crops and livestock in short supply the strain on the people became too great to ignore. Even the fish supply, which was a staple for coastal villages like yours, had begun to grow scarce due to the low tides. It almost felt like the water was disappearing overnight. So a sacrifice was needed—am mortal that would be offered up to the water god as payment for the rains he offered.

No one knew what became of those who were sacrificed, whether they died at sea or, against all odds, were placed in the hands of a cruel god. They never returned, body or soul. Most assumed they died at sea. The religion among the people had begun to wane since the last sacrifice, many had believed the practice to be cruel and barbaric. The officials turned back toward your small family and cleared their throats. “We appreciate your willingness,” the oldest, who wore the most expensive robes, glanced nervously between the others before clearing his throat. “We will have the elder females come check to make sure you are worthy of the position.” They would check to make sure your maidenhood was intact, that was the one qualification you knew of, and you met it just fine.

“Very well.”

“They should arrive within the next few days, and if all goes well, we will arrive next week for you instead of your sister.” With that, they left, and all of your strength went with them.

You crumbled to the floor, your young sister began to panic, your mom clutched you and sobbed more as your father held all three of you tightly. You could only imagine how badly your teenage brother would react to the news, but somehow you felt numb. An all-consuming nothingness filled your chest as you wrapped your arms around your precious little sister.

Yes, your mind supplied. Its better this way.

The elder women came after two days and confirmed your virginity and whatever else it was they were looking for, after that you were told to go to the official’s lodgings every day to be prepared for the official ceremony. It was an odd affair, you were forced to kneel before a statue and pray to it daily, only allowed to eat lotus roots, and coached on the part of the ceremony that involved everyone else. You were never told what to do after your small boat was set afloat in the sea. Those preparations took up most of your day and when you’d return home your mother would try her best to put on a smile and act like everything was okay, your father would take every opportunity he could to embrace you, your little brother did his best to hide the tears in his eyes, and your poor little sister, who still didn’t quite understand but knew something was wrong, would burst into tears and cling to you all evening.

It was an overwhelming experience, but you fell into the routine like it was second nature, so when the day of the ceremony arrived you were thrown a bit off balance. Instead of lotus roots you were given nothing to eat, only a strangely thick fluid that warmed you to your core whenever you drank it. The time that had been allotted for prayer had become the time for grooming. You were placed into a warm bath of the same fluid, you figured it was to save on the limited supply of water, and they bathed you like a princess. The elder women massaged your skin and combed your hair to perfection. They painted your lips and eyes with crimson, and your abdomen and thighs were decorated with blue dragons that spewed water and seemed to move alongside dark storm clouds. Sitting still while being painted had been rather difficult, the softness of the brush and gentleness of the strokes had left you ticklish and tingly. You thought that viscous fluid had something to do with the latter, the more you drank it the warmer you became and the more sensitive you felt.

The women wrapped you in what felt like gauze. The soft material made the hairs on your body raise, you blamed it on the new sensitivity. They wrapped your breasts like they were being bound, then tied off the artificial top behind your neck; the bottoms were similar, wrapped around your hips and upper thighs until they formed a short skirt that covered enough but too little all the same and made it difficult to walk. Jewelry was placed in your hair, pearls of white and blue were scattered about your locks, and you estimated the price of half of those decorations alone to be worth more than four times the price of your family’s home. Probably enough money to feed your family and your neighbor’s families for two or three years, but that was only your estimation.

Your feet remained bare but they placed bands of silver with pendants of matching pearls around your ankles and wrists, they made a small jingle noise whenever you walked. When they felt you were decorated enough they pinned your hair up and placed a veil over your head. Your vision was obscured but the women took your hands and guided you to the ceremony area in the center of the four villages. The sun hung low in the sky and the people quieted down as you were brought beside the officials. The weight of what was about to happen truly began to settle in your chest and churn your stomach.

 Its fine, you had to tell yourself. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been her, so its fine. As long as it’s not her, anything is fine.

“Great God of Water,” the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears drowned out most of the official’s grand speech, your brain was only able to catch onto the last portion. “We ask for your mercy and blessings upon us in these desperate times. Please, bless us with your rains once more. Bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you!”

The villagers were full of mixed emotions, though you could not see it, you could hear the hesitation and reluctance to cheer from the crowd. “You are doing us a great service,” the official told you quietly, he kept a solid grip on your bicep. “You will not be forgotten.”

You were led from the center of the villages to a palanquin where you were commanded to enter. Once you were secured inside you heard the cry of a familiar little voice. Your precious little sister called out and tried to run after you and into the palanquin. Your father ran after her and picked her up quickly to keep her from climbing inside. You poked your head out and lifted your veil to see her one last time. A pain unlike any other gripped your heart as you looked at her tear-stricken face, and the frowns of grief on your other three family members. “I have to go now, little lily,” your voice almost cracked, and your eyes filled with tears as you called her by her nickname. “Be sure to watch over mom and dad for me, and don’t do anything to worry your older siblings too much.”

“O-okay,” she sniffled pathetically.

“I love you, all of you,” you whispered, unsure whether they would hear it or not, before lowering your veil again and righting yourself in the vehicle. If you had said anything more, or looked at their face’s any longer, leaving would have become unbearable. Your heart squeezed again, and you had to hold back the tears that threatened to spill and ruin the hard work and time that went into your face paintings. The palanquin stopped after what felt like only a few moments. A man you recognized as one of the many officials assisted you in your exit and began to lead you toward a well-known pier.

The sounds of the ocean had once calmed you, a relaxing sound from the time you were young, now the sounds only heightened your anxiety. The other officials followed behind as you were led down a set of steps and told to step into a decorated boat fit for one. There were strings of blue and white flowers placed along the edges of the boat and inside, the soft petals cushioned your feet as you stepped in. The boat rocked and you had to keep your balance as you clutched the elder man’s hand for dear life. Some of the water splashed against your feet and into the bottom of the boat, and you feared that there was a leak somewhere.

Its fine, you repeated to yourself, over and over. A mantra to try and collect yourself. You’re doing this for your little sister, for her, for your family. Its fine.

“Sit down carefully,” the man said as he helped usher you onto the cushioned bench and let go of your hand. You sat stock still, back straight, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your gauzy coverings to occupy your swirling mind. What was going to happen to you?

Don’t worry about it, just focus on how you’re protecting your little lily, your family.

The material stretched under the stress of your nervous fingers. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you anything more,” the high official began from his spot beside the one that had guided you. He handed you a glass bottle of the same liquid you had been drinking all day. “For what it’s worth, you are far braver than anyone I have ever met.”

You stared at him blankly, you were panicking, how is that brave? You wanted nothing more than to jump out of that boat, back onto the docks, and run away. But you knew that if it wasn’t you, it would be her and that was unacceptable. “Farewell, I wish you only happiness in your next life.”

With that, they set your boat adrift, almost in perfect sync with the sun dipping under the horizon.

It was a strange sensation, an isolation you knew not many could understand. You were alone, set adrift in the sea, not knowing what would happen to you. The waves pushed your craft along, rocked it, made it creak. Luckily for you, you didn’t get seasick easily, but the constant motion was disorienting. There was nothing to do but fall deeper into your racing thoughts; wondering how you would get out of this and whether it would end with you living or dead. Maybe you’d die of thirst, cooked like a fish in a pan under the sun after a few days of only the strange milky fluid to drink. That fluid certainly didn’t help with the heat.

A strange light from the corner of your eye caught your attention and you lifted your veil to get a clearer image. You looked into the water, leaning as gently as you could to one side. The light was soft, glowing and pulsing with its glow as it drifted just within sight. One soft purple glow became two, then became a third with more pinks and yellows; more and more lights began to show up just under the surface. They moved with the current, going in the same direction as your boat, and you stared in awe at the sheer number of soft lights. They surrounded your vessel on both sides, each one seeming like its own entity.

The blue lights were the most beautiful, they were few but seemed to dance to a tune only they knew. You dipped your hand under the water’s dark surface, doing your best to try to reach one of the creatures. One hit your hand and it almost felt like nothing. It flinched, its glowing body maneuvering around your hand to continue its path. “Are these jellyfish?” You tilted your head to the side, enraptured by the phenomenon before you.

You wondered how many others had witnessed such a beautiful display, and with so many all at once. Jellyfish were not rare, many washed up on shore or got caught in fishing nets as they floated with the current, but never had you seen any that glowed. It felt like a private show, just for you.

Was the water god taking pity on you? The thought made you frown. Allowing you to see some unseen wonders of the ocean as thanks for your sacrifice? Did the beauty of these creatures really make up for what was to come? If they really were from the water god- you cut off that train of thought, unsure what to feel. There was a strange tightness to your chest that you were unfamiliar with. Bitterness maybe? Twisted reverence and self-pity melded together in an uncomfortable whirl of feelings? You clicked your tongue.

The water began to grow louder, almost restless in sound. Reluctantly you looked away from the beautiful jellyfish to search for the source of the noise. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary that you could see, but it felt like your boat was going faster, the water’s volume only increasing as your boat continued on. You glanced back down to the jellyfish below you and couldn’t tell if anything was wrong. They seemed to be drifting at the same speed you were. “The current must’ve picked up.”

To add to the beauty of your private show, you began to place some of the flower petals that decorated the deck of your boat on the water. Scattering them about to add another layer to the multitude below you. The blue and white petals decorated the surface and accented the glow nicely. You laid your head on the boat’s edge, relaxing as the moon shone high in the sky. The sound of the rushing waves, the motion that had nauseated you only an hour or two prior began to lull you to sleep. You continued to scatter petals as your eyes fell closed, your overheated fingers relaxing against the chill of the sea. Yes, you thought, mind caught between the waking world and the slumbering one. It’ll be fine like this. Everything will be fine.

“Lord Tobirama,” you whispered, sleepiness creeping into your voice. “Please, save my family.”

A flash of light lit up the sky, almost like a strike of lightning but without the ferocity of thunder. The waves grew larger, you clung to the edge of your wooden craft as it rocked with the aggravated water. It seemed even the jellyfish had begun to struggle, as their lights began to dim and disappear, leaving you on your own once again. “What in the,” the winds picked up and you held your hair down. Misty water began to spray everywhere, and you fell back against the deck as a particularly rough wave crashed against your boat. The raging water was deafening, the moon and stars were not enough to illuminate the now dark waters. You sat up and immediately wished you hadn’t.

A telltale swirling had begun in the waves a short distance ahead and you knew that meant certain death for you. Your panic began to rise again, your knuckles turned white as you clutched the back of the boat as if that would save you. What could save you? Was there anything? I don’t want to die, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, the winds and water whipped your hair and made those expensive pearls fall from their delicate places. The veil was torn from your head, cold sea water crashed against your back and into your boat and filled the bottom with a layer of water, the flower petals floated up to your ankles and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Before your wooden vessel even dipped below the angry waves you were soaked to the bone. The whirlpool took hold of your barely afloat vessel and you never felt so hopeless. A deafening crack resounded and you stumbled like a newborn fawn. You opened your eyes in time to watch as your face crashed into the sea, the overwhelming current pulling you under and it felt like it was trying to pull you apart. You choked on the water, too startled to make any rational decisions. Your eyes stung, all you could see was darkness, the current kept pushing and pushing at you, you couldn’t tell which way was up and which led further into the depths. Someone help!

Something incredibly cold, colder than the water touched your outstretched arm and began to pull you through the never-ending darkness. You sputtered and coughed as you broke through the water’s surface. Your eyes stung, so you kept them closed. Your lungs, nose, and throat burned as you did your best to expel all of the salty liquid you had swallowed. Whatever had pulled you out had pulled you to a sandbar or something of the sort as you were able to stay on your knees and keep your airways above water.

Once you had finished expelling the water from your lungs, you greedily began to suck in air, as if you swallowed enough of it you’d never drown again. After a bit of calming down and realizing you were no longer on deaths door you felt alright enough to open your stinging eyes. For a while everything was blurry, no matter how many times you blinked to calm the stinging sensation it remained. Though everything was distorted, you could see that you were in a dark structure of some kind. The body of water that had been an ocean before was now a large square pool with lily pads and lotus floating atop the surface, a lily pad had even clung to your left side. The water came up to your waist while you remained on your knees.

You felt your panic begin to rise once again. How is that possible? I was just in the middle of the ocean how can I-

“You’re alive,” a deep timber. You looked up and saw the blurry outline of a tall person in front of you. Had he been there before? His feet were bare as he seemed to stand on the water’s surface like it was solid ground. All of your well-earned air felt like it was punched out of your lungs. “Good.”

From what you could make out, this man had light hair. Maybe white or silver? Your vision was still too blurry to tell. He had on some sort of long deep blue draping, a robe maybe? The pants he wore underneath the draping were dark in color, you guessed black, and the trimmings on the robe were of a silver variety. One of his large hands reached for your face, and you flinched at the chill of his touch. You closed your eyes, fear gripping your form, but all you felt was the gentle caress of his thumb across both of your eyelids. His hand pulled back as soon as he’d finished and the stinging that had plagued your vision disappeared.

When you opened your eyes again you were hesitant but felt relief at being able to see everything clearly once more. The white-haired man stood high above you his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You were right, it had been a royal blue robe, with filigree and dragons depicted in a sparkling silver thread. His skin was so pale, almost like moonshine incarnate. He had three red markings on his face, one on each cheek and one on his defined chin, each one came to a pointed tip towards the center of his face. There was a tuft of white fur spiked at the top of his collar, it matched his spiked hair.

He wore a frown on his face, seemingly greatly displeased. Under his silken robe he seemed to be wearing a tight black shirt, resembled under armor in appearance and it ended midway up his neck, covering his defined adam’s apple. “You,” he began, the baritone of his voice made your face heat and brought a shiver down your spine. The man seemed to think carefully about what he wanted to say, his arms flexed, you were entranced by the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his piercing red eyes never left your form. A sigh escaped him, you tilted your head, he began to disrobe before tossing the soft material at you. It covered your face and confused you. “Put that on and follow me.”

You frowned at the thought of ruining such nice material with your wet form. It was such a luxurious fabric; you didn’t think you’d ever felt anything like it before or would ever feel anything like it again. The more you touched it, the more you realized your dripping fingers didn’t bother the material at all. It was almost like the water didn’t exist, the material neither repelled or soaked in the water from your form so you finally gave in. It took you a minute to stand, he faced away from you as you stood, and you realized he was being polite.

The gauze-like material had soaked in a lot of water and loosely hung from your form. Your breasts were almost entirely bare, your right nipple on full display, and your sort of skirt had sagged so much your entire lower belly was exposed and displayed the fullness of your hips. You could only guess what your backside looked like and hastily wrapped the blue robe around yourself. “I—” you began, voice hoarse from the strain of swallowing and expelling sea water. “Where am I?”

The man turned his head a bit to glance at you and you assumed he deemed your appearance appropriate because he began to walk away. His feet left ripples against the water’s surface as he stepped on it like flooring; meanwhile, the water still swallowed your feet and up to your shins. He couldn’t possibly be—

“You are in my domain.”

“Your domain?”

“Yes.”

You were struggling to keep up with his pace, your body still bit wobbly from the adrenaline drain.

“I am Tobirama.”

“Tobirama!?” The Tobirama? Tobirama Senju, the water god? The one your sister had almost been sacrificed to and the one that you had been? He was real? And alive and well apparently. Without the robe, more of his physique was on display. His back was muscled, his shoulders broad but waist on the slimmer side. The shirt he wore had cut outs at his hips that exposed more of his milky skin and teased the defined bones there.

“That’s Lord Tobirama to you.”

You dropped to your knees quickly, your arms outstretched in front of you with your palms toward the heavens. You placed your forehead flat against the cold black stone at the edge of the pool, your quick action had caused the waters of the pool to begin to move again, the sash on the robe had untied itself and the cold water against your hot warm flesh startled you. “Lord Tobirama, god of water and keeper of knowledge, please send your blessed rains to my people.”

When he did not respond you decided to continue. “My family—my village, they will starve soon without them. Please show us your mercy.” Your lips trembled, your throat tightening at the thought of your family. “I know I am insignificant and unworthy but—” the high priest’s concluding line came to mind as you tried to win his favor, bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you! “Please use my life to spare theirs.”

The silence weighed heavy after your pleading, and you dared not lift your head. Was he thinking? Was he angry? Had he disappeared? Your mind raced with questions, with thoughts and feared outcomes. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, so you squeezed them shut. This was it, wasn’t it? You’d die by angering him, not having saved anyone in your family let alone the youngest. I’m sorry little lily, everyone.

Cold, very cold, fingers tipped your chin upward. He held your head in place to make you look up at him. His face remained neutral, which was better than you had expected. Those red eyes scanned your features, your eyes were wide and dewy. You had never expected the god of water to be so handsome, so human-like and yet still so ethereal. The fingers that held your face were so large and strong, you knew you couldn’t break away unless he allowed it. You wondered what he was looking for as his eyes scanned your own again.

Those cold hands moved and began to help you to your feet, they allowed you to lean on him a bit, your twitching fingers gripping his forearms tightly as you balanced yourself and hoped for the best all at the same time.

“I cannot alter the course of nature,” was his simple reply. So simple and yet even more crushing than the sentence that had announced your sister as a sacrifice. “I will send you back in a few days’ time, mortals cannot stay in the realm of gods for too long. You will remain here in the meantime.”

Your grip on his arms tightened. He was so close, but you felt so far removed that you didn’t notice the minute twitch of his fingers against your hands or the subtle downturn of his luscious lips as he watched your face crumble. The fact that you were stuck there hadn’t even registered until later on when he led you to the room you would occupy while there. Tobirama allowed you two rooms, one a very luxurious bedroom, decorated in dark marble walls with glowing pearl like stones for light, all material made of the same type of royal blue and silver silk as the robe he encouraged you to keep on. The room was so beautiful it made you feel out of place. There were bookshelves that adorned the walls beside the double doors; they were made of pearl with many tomes and texts, scrolls and leather-bound books, all worn and delicately placed like they’d been read and reread many times over.

The second room you were allowed was an equally exquisite bathing chamber. Again, the walls were dark marble, inlaid with pearlescent accents. The same pearl like stones glowed for light, and an empty pool similar in shape to the one you had emerged from rest at the center of the room, the edges and inside decorated with bright silver. You wondered how often humans, or even other gods, used these rooms but you didn’t voice your question. Your heart still felt heavy with the knowledge that you were of no use to your people or family.

“When I go back, will I be able to be with my family again?” The question left you before you could think about it.

The god closed his eyes and crossed his arms again, a soft sigh left him as he began to walk toward the heavy double doors that led back into the hallway. “I suggest bathing before going back to your bedchambers, that ceremonial makeup you mortals love so much has smudged everywhere from the sea water.”

His avoidance of your question irritated you.

“What use is going back then? If I can’t save them, if I can’t see them, I’d rather you have left me to die in that whirlpool.”

He paused, his back visibly straightening, before he opened the doors and left you alone in the unfamiliar room. The sound of the door closing shut behind him was loud and it brought your negative emotions to a head. You felt so helpless, so hopeless. The weight of your emotions brought you to your knees again, but you began to slam your fists against the polished floors in your anguish. What use were you? Was this situation? It hadn’t mattered that you took your sister’s place, she would still starve along with the rest of your loved ones. You hadn’t truly believed in the water god but some small voice in the back of your head had whispered the possibility of salvation, which you hadn’t realized had become a hope.

You cried your fill, cried until your eyes hurt and wailed until your throat gave out in protest. When your body wouldn’t let you cy any longer you wiped your eyes and nose and just sniffled. There was no way for you to tell how much time had passed, but a bath and sleep sounded like the best you could do at that moment. You stood and removed the robe and began to remove the loose gauze you had been wrapped in and used it to wipe off the smudges of paint that were left along your body. Across the back wall was a large mirror that you approached. Your reflection looked rough.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, the beautiful makeup was smudged, your hair was fizzled and damp with half dried sea water, the pearls and decorations that remained were strewn about in a tangled mess. A sigh left you as you began to pick out the decorations one by one and placed them on the floor beside you. When you finished you were surprised to find that the pool had filled with water without you having to do anything, but the more you thought about it the more it made sense. You were in the home of the water god after all.

After your bath, which was at best lukewarm, you replaced the blue robe and walked back to the room that you had been given. You were so tired, you decided to flop down on the plush bed. It was so soft, but so unfamiliar. What was there for you to do now? When you were expelled from the realm of the gods, where would you go? Where would you be? How did it all work? Those questions kept running through your mind until your body could no longer stay awake.

A few cycles of sleep passed by like that, you assumed they were days but you couldn’t be too sure. When you woke up there was always fresh fruit placed carefully on the bedside table for you to eat. You would partake in the familiar foods as you explored the hallways and rooms of the domain. You knew you were told to stay within those rooms but there was not much else for you to occupy your time with. Eventually you stumbled upon where Tobirama seemed to spend most of his time.

It looked to be a study, comprised of the same dark marble and pearl mixture, with a desk like structure raised from the ground for him to sit in front of. Bookshelves like the ones in your chambers lined all four walls, each organized but in a chaotic manner. The books and tomes in that room looked far more used than the ones in your own, which was quite impressive. The first time you stumbled upon him there he seemed to be studying some sort of scroll, brush in hand for note taking. Despite your anger toward him you couldn’t help but admire his appearance. Everything about him was enticing, from the elongated bridge of his nose to the way he furrowed his brow in concentration. The flexing of his shoulder blades as his arms moved and the subtle tapping of his bare foot as he worked felt more human to you than you wanted him to be.

Despite your one oversized robe he seemed to have found another to wear, this one was black with white dragons and square like patterns made of royal blue. A similar fur to the one that lined your collar lined his and you wondered if it was because he was cold. His skin had certainly felt freezing. After watching him for a while you’d move on to a different room, your second favorite one to visit. It was the room you had arrived in. The pool you had come out of laid at the center of the room, under a large skylight with columns of white marble seemingly holding the structure up. The sky that was shone was so unfamiliar that if you hadn’t known you were in another realm that would’ve told you immediately.

The sky remained dark, but a dark blue of sorts, with patterns of light that looked like water reflections being the only source of motion. The reflective patterns were very bright, and they shone down on the center of the water pool where an altar like structure sat. It was made of the same white marble as the four columns, and it had engravings along the edges of the pedestal. The only one you could make out read a sacrifice of flesh and blood and it made you wonder if this structure had been a temple at one point.

At the other end of that room, across from the altar and pool sat a throne like chair that seemed to be made of pearl. It was freezing to the touch and felt rather uncomfortable when you sat on it. The seat itself was far too large for you, you estimated two of you could sit in it with some room to spare, but you weren’t sure if it would be equally roomy for Tobirama. He was a rather tall man, with an athletic frame, but you thought he’d fit perfectly in the center with just enough space on both sides. The throne made you feel rather lonely, looking out at the empty room and still pool from that spot felt empty. You decided to sit on the altar and watch the sky from there, rather than the lonely throne.

When time kept stretching by, with only fruits, nuts, and roots to eat, and the oversized structure thoroughly explored without forcing your way into locked rooms, you began to comb through the texts in your room. Some of them you couldn’t read, written in some other language or the wording was too difficult to understand, but some were rather interesting. Most of the scrolls seemed to be religious texts, about the different gods and their regions of reign.

Like the sun god and the god of forests, Tobirama was revered as a long-standing deity. The tome you read had claimed him to be the younger brother of the god of forests. That same tome talked about other gods, one was even supposedly a descendent of Tobirama but he had been one of the punished so his name was blotted out of the text. Some of the other books talked about Madara, the sun god, and how strong he was and the many theories behind his rise while other gods like Tobirama and Hashirama, the god of forests, were left to decline. That particular part must have been outdated, as Lord Hashirama’s region and strength had seemed to quadruple in the past 30 years. Your mother had been born in that village and she had spoke about the abundance and grace of the forest god.

You paused a moment. The story your mother told said that Lord Hashirama had regained his strength after falling in love with a female human that had been given to him as a sacrifice and one of the handwritten scrolls you read had theorized that Lord Madara’s great strength came from the yearly sacrificial ritual his region practiced. “Then is Tobirama unable to change nature because he isn’t strong enough? Because there hasn’t been enough human sacrifice?”

You thought back to when you knew to be the last human sacrifice given to the water god, which was before you were born. How many years had it been? Your father had been the one to tell you about it, and about the outcry of the people afterward. Even when telling the story he seemed disgusted by what had occurred. “He was only 11? Or was father 10?” Either way it seemed there hadn’t been a sacrifice made to Tobirama in almost 50 years before you.

So what was different about you? Had you not done something important to complete the ritual to give him strength? Were you even enough? Did it have to do with your age? You couldn’t recall how old the previous sacrifice was but you thought she had been an older woman. Burning with determination and questions, you clutched the theory tightly to your chest and made your way toward the water god’s study.

You barged in, too focused on your emotions to think about the disrespect you were showing a god. He had paused his writing when you entered, his sleeve held back in one hand to prevent ink stains and brush in the other. The water god looked handsome as he always did, same black long-sleeved shirt but he wore another royal blue robe, the pattern on it was of silver water lilies and koi swimming beneath. It was beautiful, and he left the robe open for all to admire the tightness of his shirt against his skin. Tobirama looked at you calmly and waited for you to explain why you interrupted him.

“What’s wrong with me?” You blurted out, sophistication and eloquence being two words that could not be used to describe you at that moment.

“What?”

“The scroll,” you unfurled said paper and pointed it at it, approaching closer to his desk. He set his brush down and took it carefully from your grasp. “You don’t have the power to send rains or to even send me back, do you?”

He remained silent, his sharp eyes glanced up at you before his jaw clenched and he looked down at the scroll again. “You haven’t had a sacrifice in 50 years, so your strength has dwindled.”

“Wrong,” he stated calmly and set the scroll down on his desk as he crossed his arms over his chest. A habit he seemed to have. “It’s been almost 200 years.”

“What?”

He let out a sigh and looked you in the eye, a slight frown on his lips. “Gods often sleep to conserve power; I believe I have been asleep for about 200 or so years.”

“Then the previous sacrifices?”

He shook his head and his silence weighed on you. You pressed your lips together and rubbed your arm slowly. “Why did you wake up then?”

“I am unsure,” he paused and tilted his head back. “When I last went to sleep, I was certain my brother and I would sleep for the rest of eternity, but it seems there was just enough prayer to reawaken me.”

“Lord Hashirama had weakened too?”

“Yes, we believed that humans no longer needed gods so we decided it would be better to fall silent.”

“But not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lord Hashirama’s region has been flourishing for at least three decades now. I assume he’s still awake even now.”

Tobirama looked to the side as he processed that information. “Madara too,” you continued. “He receives a yearly sacrifice even now and his people call themselves the Empire of the Sun and have yet to diminish. They are currently attempting to unite the continent.”

The water god’s fists clenched and his eyes narrowed at that news. “Damn him,” he muttered under his breath. “And has my brother done anything to stop this? To stop him?”

“I don’t know, I only know about the legends.” You rubbed your sleeve covered arm a bit hard and bit your bottom lip before asking. “So what do I need to do to restore your power? Is there anything I can do? I am your sacrifice after all.”

He let out a loud huff through his nose as he closed his eyes. The water god tapped against his arm as he seemed to think on things. Your chest tightened with emotion. Could you really end up saving your family after all? Nothing would please you more, even if it was something scary like letting him devour you whole, you would do it without hesitation. Tobirama uncrossed his arms and placed them on the desk in front of him.

“There is but I’m not sure how much power I’ll be able to gain from your worship alone,” he began to move his papers and scrolls aside. “Sit here, we’ll run a test first.”

Your heartbeat picked up. A test? Would it hurt? You approached his desk anyway and nervously sat atop it, making sure to sit facing toward him. His proximity made your face heat up and he sat and observed you closely. His eyes looked you up and down, and at the height you were atop his desk you were able to make direct eye contact without looking up at him. He placed his hands at your hips and leaned forward. His breath fanned your lips as your skin began to flush. “Are you willing?”

“Yes,” you whispered, enchanted by his voice and proximity. “I’ll do anything.”

“Then let’s begin the test,” was his only warning before his large hands gripped your hips and his mouth pressed to yours. His lips were cold, so very cold, and the same could be said for his hands. His low temperature permeated the silk of the robe and made your skin prickle. You wanted to try to warm him up.

Anxiety rushed through you as you felt his cold tongue press against your lips. What did that mean? You had never kissed anyone before, but his cold touch made your body heat up. Without much thought you wrapped your arms around his neck and unconsciously pulled him in closer. His tongue pressed harder against your lips and it forced your them to part. So cold, an appendage that was typically warm was practically an ice block in your mouth and you shivered.

He groaned as he pulled back, you were out of breath, an embarrassment unlike any other filling your chest. Did he pull away because you were bad? Did you fail the test? Were you not enough? You almost whimpered at the thought, your body continued to shiver.

“Are you,” he seemed to shiver too. “Are you still untouched?”

Heat rose, you could feel it span your entire face and the top of your chest as you nodded in embarrassment. “Yes,” you whispered, nervous. “Is that going to be an issue?”

“No,” he said quickly, his voice having taken on a deeper tone. “Are you cold?”

“You seem colder than me, your skin is ice.”

He smirked a bit and moved back before standing. “Stay there, I’ll be back shortly.”

Tobirama hadn’t lied, he had come back rather quickly, but with a black flask in hand. He sat back down easily and handed you the container gently. “Drink all of this and then we can continue.” Your body thrummed at the idea of continuing, so you did your best to chug whatever it was in the flask. It was viscous, and if you could see the color you knew it would be the same as the strange fluid the priests made you drink before the ceremony. Immediately your body warmed, and you shook from the contrast in temperatures. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice made your toes curl. “Now lean back and sit still.”

You did as you were told and almost gasped as you watched his deft fingers begin to untie the sash for the robe. “Wait, I’m not—”

“This is a part of the test,” he began. His cold fingers pressed against the naked flesh of your abdomen as he pushed the robe open. You felt hypersensitive, that light touch alone was almost enough to make you moan. “Stay still, and quiet, and then we can move on to the real ritual.”

“S-So, am I enough?”

“Possibly,” he muttered as he lightly caressed his hands up the sides of your form and stopped at your breasts. His cold temperature in contrast with your warmer one caused your nipples to harden; you pressed your thighs together as you watched his pupils dilate at the sight of your naked breasts. The light-haired man’s fingers twitched, and he ran them lightly along your breasts toward your pebbled flesh. Your eyes closed in embarrassment and a whine attempted to leave your throat. He paused, his eyes looking back at your face before landing on his forgotten calligraphy brush. “We’ll have to see how this works out won’t we? Little mortal, spread your legs for me so we can begin.”

You swallowed the noise that had threatened to leave your throat as you nodded. You opened your legs slowly, embarrassed by your nakedness and the obvious wetness that had begun to spill from you. If you could’ve, you would’ve brought your hands down immediately to cover yourself, but that would be disobedient. There was an unnerving feeling of obligation, both to stay obedient to him as your god and to hear him praise you more. The tip of his brush hit your collarbone and swirled down toward your chest, and you jumped at the sensation. He clicked his tongue, “Behave, little girl. Stay still and quiet.”

 The brush followed back up the trail, leaving black ink along in its wake. The water god brought the brush back down a similar path, but this time he brought it all the way down to your nipple. You wanted to cry out, the tickling sensation circling against your hardened peak went straight to your core and you could feel your clit twitch. He continued to circle it, over and over, your breathing picked up. Surely that was allowed, right? Tobirama brought the tip of the brush down from there and trailed it along the underside of your breast down to your lower belly.

Unintentionally, your stomach flinched at the cold brush. He clicked his tongue again and brought his sharp eyes up to your face. “I’m sorry, my Lord I didn’t—” he shushed you, cutting your apology short.

“Remember to be quiet,” he told you, his other hand creeping up to your mouth. None too gently, he placed his index and middle finger into your waiting lips and his jaw tightened as you began to suckle on them instinctively. “There’s an obedient sacrifice.” You whimpered at his words, and he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth, back toward your throat. “Do my words affect you that much?”

His eyes trailed down to the heated area between your legs and he tsked again, his tone sounded smug. “You’re so wet, from what? A kiss and some light caresses? Are you so innocent that even this little is too much?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, you could feel your clit twitch under his gaze, he let out a breathless chuckle. The brush began to move along your lower belly, right above your womb he swirled the ink in a cyclical pattern. Once satisfied, he trailed it back upward toward your neglected breast and paid extra attention to the nipple once again. By that point you couldn’t help it, you sucked on his fingers as hard as you could, but a whimper still left you. Tobirama kept up his swirling, you were so sensitive, your lower body unconsciously pushed forward as you felt your clit throb hard. “Mmm!”

It felt weird, you had never felt anything like that before. Your entire body twitched, and your toes curled, you felt a rush of wetness start to leak onto his desk. The building in your lower belly had relaxed but your sensitivity only increased as he continued to tease your nipple with his brush. When you opened your eyes again there was a definitive redness to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his eyes were entirely focused on your throbbing sex and his breath was noticeably labored.

“So disobedient.” The feeling in your chest tightened, your high cut short. You disappointed him? His voice had kept its husky tone. The brush left your body entirely and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “You couldn’t keep still or quiet,” he began to trail the brush down your abdomen once more, a swirling pattern that laid right over your womb once more and used your heightened sensitivity against you. Your sex ached, virginal channel twitching in anticipation of something you knew little about. “Those who misbehave must receive punishment.”

The brush trailed down further; the ink covered bristles marking your pelvis before drawing over your mound. “I’ll give you one more chance to behave. If you remain quiet and still, I’ll let you cum again,” his sharp red eyes, pupils all but swallowing the irises, stared into the depths of yours. You nodded your assent, and he kept the eye contact as the brush moved to your folds.

He watched you like a hawk, looking for every minute twitch and flinch, as he began to circle your labia before moving the brush toward your dripping flesh. It was incredibly difficult not to whine as the brush head grazed over your weeping entrance. Tobirama’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he started his assault on your neglected bud. You bit your bottom lip to keep from whining, the pressure was too light. The water god’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to read your mind and pressed the brush harder, moving it up and down in a lapping like motion.

You wanted to close your eyes but his own were too intense, too enticing, you couldn’t look away. “You’re trying so hard to please me,” he taunted, a tight smirk on his perfect lips. “Can you feel it? Every time I speak to you, your hole twitches.” He brought the brush down to circle your clenching entrance to emphasize his point. “Does my voice make you ache?”

A whimper almost escaped you.

“So wet and warm,” he turned the brush over and began to prod at you with the rounded end. “Little girl, this lewd thing,” his cold hands cupped your sex and you let out a quiet groan, your eyes moving skyward. “Such a salacious reaction is unbecoming of a virgin.”

The water god removed his palm and brush and brought them up to his face. “Look here,” he commanded, and you obeyed. His palm glistened with your slick and the calligraphy brush was soaked through, your fluids mixed with the black ink and dripped down his cleaner palm. “You’ve ruined my favorite brush, and my palm is soaked despite barely making contact. So obscene,” he brought his palm to his mouth and lapped at his palm, a visible shiver rattling him at the taste of you. His red eyes remained focused on your own as he cleaned his palm. “What is a god to do with a sacrifice like you?”

You were at your wits end; you couldn’t sit still or remain quiet anymore. It was too much, you were sweating from both heat and effort, your sex throbbed and ached unlike anything you’d ever felt before, your breasts were tender and felt heavy under the knowledge that he could be holding them instead. Even your fingers itched to hold onto him somehow, to tear away at his arrogance and get at the flesh beneath that cloth. A whine that felt closer to a sob bubbled in your chest and threatened to escape your lips.

“You did very well that time,” the god told you, almost affectionately. “Shall I reward you now?”

“Yes,” you cried, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Please, my lord, I can’t—”

“Enough,” he hushed you. The white-haired man stood and placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and the other approached your heated sex again. You unconsciously pushed your hips forward towards his hand and he allowed his palm to make contact again. This time, however, he pressed the heel of his palm against your aching bud and ground down on it. “Cry out to your heart’s content.”

A loud moan escaped you and you threw your head back. Your reached forward and grabbed at his thick wrist to hold his palm in place as you sloppily rode it. Using his hand on the small of your back, he brought you closer to him and pressed his cold lips to yours. The kiss was sloppy, you were fueled purely on instinct. He seemed unbothered by your lack of experience, and he used his tongue and lips to guide yours. When you were right at the precipice from your rough grinding he pulled his palm back and swallowed your cries of protest.

Tobirama did not leave you waiting for long, his cold fingers returned, and he prodded one at your entrance. You were so wet that he penetrated you easily. It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs, you pulled away from the kiss to gasp as your body tried to register the foreign feeling. He pushed his finger in deeper and you felt your walls squeeze around it. “Nngh,” you groaned. The cold of his finger contrasted so starkly with the heat of your insides. He began to pump his finger, in and out, and the friction felt so good. “Mmm.”

“You’re gripping my finger so tightly,” he pressed a kiss to your exposed collarbone. “Spread your legs more, I’ll be adding another finger shortly.”

You nodded dumbly, your mind and body reeling from the pace he had set. His thumb reached up to circle your clit as he added a second finger. You were thankful for it, as the second finger made the stretch a bit more uncomfortable, but you were able to experience the same amount of pleasure thanks to his thumb. The noises that came from your body were sloppy and wet. The faster he went the more your juices sloshed and dripped, the louder your moans became. “Such filthy sounds you’re making. So depraved, like a whore.”

“N-No,” you whimpered. “I’m not—”

“Your pretty hole would beg to differ. Now that it’s felt my touch, its begging for more. Shall I add another finger?”

The tip of his ring finger began to press inside, and you shuddered, almost drooling. It felt like too much, you had never had anything or anyone inside of you before. His third, thick and equally cold, finger slid inside and the stretch burned. You grunted, feeling like you’d been punched in the gut and the water god began to scissor your insides. “This is all in preparation for the sacrificial ritual.”

“Ritual,” you panted.

This isn’t the ritual?

He hum in concentration, his digits began to thrust in and out, then stretch, then in and out again at a brutal pace. Tobirama removed the hand that had been holding the small of your back and used it to undo his robe’s sash. The silken material slid open easily and with that same free hand he began to palm at the oversized tent in his trousers. You almost balked as he began to pull his clothing down to reveal the agitated flesh, he groaned loudly at being free of the confines.

Tobirama was long, exceedingly long, and generously thick with a purpled tip leaking with copious amounts of precum. He was so hard, and you almost burst when you realized that you were the reason he was throbbing. Your eyes were entranced as he began to pump himself slowly, your hips bucking to meet his fingers with more vigor. His thumb flicked your clit and all you could think about was trying to fit that beast inside of you. “Lord Tobirama,” you cried out. “I feel nnn- weird. S-Something’s coming!”

“Then cum, clench around my fingers and cry out for me.”

“Mmm, my lord,” you whined pathetically, your eyes squeezed shut and you bit into your bottom lip. He kept pumping you with his fingers, his thumb baring down on your clit with almost a painful amount of pressure. His continued work heightened your orgasm and elongated it. Soon his fingers, his thumb in particular, became too much and you began to squirm in overstimulation.

“The ritual,” he grunted, the sounds of his hand working his cock melding with the sounds of your wet sex. “Mortal worship is what gives us strength. And what greater form of praise is there than sex.”

“Please, your fingers, it’s too much,” more whining, you sounded a bit hoarse, but your body couldn’t take much more.

“So, we are yet to be finished.” The water god finally stilled his fingers and removed them with a loud shlop sound.

You nodded, eyes soaking in and memorizing the image of a partially clothed water god, pumping his rigid manhood with his hand that had just been removed from your body. His cheeks were tinged pink, his ears had a dusting of the same shade, his intimidating and crisp appearance disheveled because of you. Slowly you slid off from his desk, your bum hitting the cold floor roughly. He watched you, his haughty demeanor returning as you sat on your knees before him.

He stopped pumping and angled his erection toward your closed lips. Tentatively, you licked it. You had no idea what you were doing but you wanted to please, to worship him as he said. “Good girl,” Tobirama praised as he placed his hand, the one wet with his own precum, in your hair and pulled you flush against his aching need. “Open your mouth.”

Almost as soon as you opened your mouth, he placed his throbbing tip inside. You wrapped your lips around it and closed your eyes. How was even this part of him so cold? He pushed his hips forward and you had to open your jaw further to fit him. The taste of him was tangier than you expected, but that also could’ve been the taste of your lingering juices. He moved his fist, at the base of his shaft, together with your slight head bobs.

The sounds he made were divine; low grunts and moans, a rumbling in his chest when you scraped him with your teeth, his labored breathing grew louder and louder with each passing movement. Your jaw ached but you loved the feeling of his throbbing flesh in your mouth. The longer you sucked the more of him you tried to swallow. Eventually he reached so far back that he hit the back of your throat. Tears were welling in your eyes at the effort and saliva leaked from all parts of your mouth. You began to grunt and whine along with him, fresh arousal dripped from you onto the floor.

With one final thrust of your head to his pelvis, he throbbed and groaned loudly as he spurt cold spend down your throat. You wanted to taste it, but your tongue had already numbed from the temperature of his cock. He removed himself slowly, a small trail of semen and throat mucus following behind. When he was fully out of your mouth you rubbed your throat. It felt abused but in a way you never expected to enjoy, you happily swallowed the gunk that remained on your tongue and didn’t need to be told to lick him clean. He was still rock hard and you pressed your thighs together at the sight.

He reached down and helped you to your feet. Tobirama fully removed his robe and you pushed off the one that had loosely remained on your arms. The god adjusted his trousers and you frowned in confusion as he tucked himself away again. He still removed his tight shirt, revealing a haven of well sculpted flesh to your greedy eyes, which gave you pause. “We will continue in the altar room.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know where that is?”

You nodded.

“Then go, I will meet you there. I have something else to prepare.”

Again, you nodded, throat still sore, and began to walk toward your second favorite place to be. During your walk there you had begun to feel cold, and you wondered if it was because of the cum you swallowed. You could almost feel it as it sat in your belly like ice and froze your core, but you couldn’t help the tingle of need that pulsed at your entrance at the thought. You wrapped your arms around your middle to conserve heat.

You waded through the pool as you went to sit on the altar to wait for him. As horny as you still were, you were thankful for the reprieve. It allowed your overtaxed body a break and your lust addled mind some clarity. Though with the clarity came the anxiety of being deflowered by the same flesh that had deliciously tortured your throat. A shiver crawled up your spine, both from the cold and at the thought of how ruined you would be afterward. Tobirama was going to split you in half, he’d probably reach well into your guts if he bottomed out inside of you.

The water god appeared in the hallway; he was still shirtless with two flasks in his large hands. One flask looked the same as the one from before, black, but the other had a dual blue and purple hue that attracted your attention. You stared at the flex of his muscles as he walked, his hair looked like he had run his hands through it a few times, but he approached you with purpose. His feet glided over the water like it had when you first saw him. He narrowed his eyes at your hunched form. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and muttered, “Just cold.”

He handed you the black flask again and you began to drink it before he told you to. The fluid slid down your throat like slime, but it warmed its way down and seemed to overtake the cold that had seeped its way through you. The mixture of the viscous drink and Tobirama’s essence seemed to unsettle your stomach a bit but it wasn’t anything to worry about. Those sharp red eyes watched you carefully as he leaned in closer. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you still willing?” That question surprised you. Would you have been sitting there still naked if you weren’t? Or even drank more of that strange fluid? You appreciated the sentiment though.

“Of course.”

“Good, then move over for a moment.”

“Whah?” He nudged you aside before he sat himself down in the center of the altar. The pale god sat and began to slide his trousers down just enough to expose his half-hard member and the swollen balls below it. Tobirama opened the blue and purple flask before beckoning you to straddle him. You were up on your knees with your hands clutching his shoulders. It was a position you had not been expecting, though you weren’t really aware of what positions where normally used in this sort of situation.

The white-haired man leaned forward and began to lap at your neck, both hands moving to cup your cold breasts. He pressed them together before rolling and squeezing them. You moaned softly when his cold thumbs began to rub your nipples. His lapping turned into opened mouth kisses as he made his way down your unpainted collarbone and to your breast, where he had conveniently, rubbed the ink off of your skin. That cold appendage left a wet trail from the top of your left breast to the underside before he enveloped a nipple and vigorously sucked. A higher pitched moan escaped you and you tightened your grip on his shoulders.

Before he switched to the right breast, he poured some of the liquid from the blue and purple flask into his hand and rubbed the fluid against your sex. He nipped at the pebbled bud in his mouth and smeared the fluid into your soft tissue thoroughly. With a breathy groan you bucked into his hand. The water god poured more into his palm and made sure to coat his fingers before pushing them into you. You leaned back on your haunches a bit, giving him better access to your insides, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that the fluid was warming up the more he worked it in.

“Mmm,” you bit your lip and glanced at his cock. It had risen back to hardness and your inner walls clenched at the thought.

Tobirama chuckled breathlessly, “That eager to be stuffed full of me, hm?”

He removed his fingers from your entrance, and you whined. His cock visibly throbbed at the sound. The water god poured more of the fluid into his hand and began to rub it along his member. The substance was also a bit viscous but lighter in color than the one you’d been drinking. “Get back into the previous position, little girl. I’m about to split you open.”

Swallowing nervously, you straddled him again, and your grip on his shoulders had your knuckles turning white. With his none lubricated hand placed on your hip, and his other keeping his length in position, he began to slowly bring your down onto him. The blunt tip felt good as he rubbed it against your entrance and clit, it had relaxed you enough for you to try to sink down on it.

The tip felt impossibly wide as it popped inside. “Relax, if you tense up it’ll make things more difficult.”

Relax, you told yourself. Easier said than done. You closed your eyes and sunk down further. The stretch burned and you bit your bottom lip. Only when you pressed down a little more did Tobirama let out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Good girl.”

The praise made you want to try harder, so you took more of him in at once than you should’ve. It knocked the wind out of you, his blunt head hit against the spongey part in your walls that made your toes curl. He panted and removed his hand, no longer needing it to hold himself in place, instead he placed it on your other hip to try to ease your burden. Your hands shook, it was painful but pleasurable all at once, the feeling was almost too much. “Halfway there.”

Only halfway? You whined again as you tried to take in more of him; the whine only grew in volume as he rubbed against the most sensitive parts of your inner walls. His eyes were narrowed in on where your bodies connected, the sharp red was filled with undeniable desire as he watched your being swallow him. “Look at how well you’re taking me.”

“Lord Tobirama,” you groaned as you sunk down further. Your entire body flinched when he hit against a part of you that felt wrong. “Nn, I can’t take in anymore.”

“You were being such a good girl. There’s no need to worry, only a bit more to go.”

“I can’t. I—” you cut yourself off as you attempted to do as asked but felt that same intensity. You shook your head. Before you had fully adjusted to the fullness, Tobirama began to raise you up and down along his length. It felt like heaven and hell in one place. Every time his blunt head hit against that spot it tried to push a little harder against it. Your legs trembled, your brain too pleasure fogged to try and ride him. When he started to thrust up as he brought you down, you swore.

“You don’t ever want me to leave this hole do you? You’re sucking me in, trying to take me in deeper despite saying that you couldn’t. But look,” he grunted with exertion, and you felt a telltale pop as he pushed past the barrier. It hurt, it felt wonderful, it was too much. Your body began to spasm and your vision blurred. The highest pitched noise you’d ever made escaped your lungs and you clawed at his back, leaning forward against his chest to try to gain some relief from the feeling. Tobirama shivered against you.

His grip on your hips was bruising as he continued to bring you up and down, sinking deeper then he ever should’ve. You were a mess, tears welled in the corners of your eyes and you felt stupid. All you could do was moan and whine like a bitch in heat. “If I cum inside we’ll be tied forever, do you want that?”

You nodded, the pressure in your lower belly about to burst. 

“I’ll sow my seed inside you,” he panted, his thrusts and pulls increasing in speed. You bounced up and down on his lap at an erratic pace. Tobirama continued to ramble. “You’ll take every last drop. The thought of you with milk swollen breasts and a round belly is enough to drive me insane. You’re my precious little broodmare. Fuck!” His curse was punctuated by a particularly hard thrust, one that smashed your clit down onto his pelvic bone and caused you to reach your peak. You felt a rush of fluid leave you and you whimpered as oversensitivity set in almost immediately.

“Such a good—” he thrust two more times and gasped as he reached his own end. There was a distinctive rush of cold as he came inside you. It felt like a lot. You bit your bottom lip and pressed your forehead into his shoulder as he relaxed his grip on your hips. The two of you remained like that for a while, basking in the post orgasm bliss. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead gently.

Exhaustion began to swallow your form but before you could completely give in he spun you around to face the throne. He remained inside of you, his member twitching and spunk leaking from you and dripping down his sack. You whimpered when he leaned your back against his chest and angled your body so that you could watch your combined fluids run down his darkened flesh. “We’re not finished,” he supplied before he gripped your hips once more with just as much force.

Tobirama bounced you like you weighed nothing, the new angle giving you a clear view of the indentation he was making inside of you. You placed your hands over it and felt him practically pulse both inside and in your hands. Your mouth dropped open. As he worked you open, again and again, more of his cold sperm fell out of your center and stained his skin and the marbled stone. “Look at what you’re wasting,” he grunted, one of his hands crept down to tease your oversensitive nub and cause you to flinch with every motion of his fingers. “I’ll have to use something to plug you when we’re done. You don’t want to waste anymore, do you?”

Drool began to drip down the sides of your open mouth as you threw your head back against his shoulder, your hands rubbed against your own skin as they pressed back against him. It made you feel him harder; it made him rub you more. Your entire being felt like it would explode, your brain too stimulated to comprehend his question. “Ffffn,” you felt like your brain had gone numb. “Haaa, ahn.”

“Hm?” He brought his hand away from your abused nub and up to grip your chin. The water god turned your face toward him and his slick covered thumb swept across your exposed tongue and abused lips. “Have I fucked you stupid?”

He pressed his thumb down on your tongue so that you couldn’t speak. You tasted the mixture of his and your own cum on his precious thumb and you felt that same gush of fluid leave you. Your entire being thrummed, your heart felt like it might explode, you wanted to thrash and to move away from him to lessen the intensity, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong and all you could do was cry and whimper as you came again almost immediately after from his continued thrusts and blunt cock head against the very back of your womb. “My dumb little sacrifice,” he groaned. “A perfect little child maker. Spray me one more time, worship me with you entire being.”

His fingers left your mouth and he readjusted you to bend forward in his lap. The tears that had formed began to stream down your face as you shook your head. How could you explode again? Your essence had already sprung from you like a fountain; you couldn’t possibly do it again. Tobirama held you in place by your wrists, keeping you bent over and facing away. Noises you had never made before fell from your throat and squelched from your sex. You heard him grunt in effort and felt the weight of his sack hit against your angry clit once before you convulsed and sprayed again. “Mmm, good girl.”

You felt his cold semen as it burst inside of you once more. It collected in your womb like a pool and furthered your convulsions. He brought you back to his lap and rubbed your aching arms as you continued to shake, and he continued to cum inside of you. Despite the copious amounts of sweat and other fluids caked to both your skin and his all you could feel was the weight of his sperm inside of you and the cold it gave off. “Very good girl,” he muttered against your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

After an unknown amount of time you finally stopped whimpering and shaking, and your tears seemed to dry up. You were parched and sore but you managed to place your hands against the arms that held you once you felt a bit more grounded. You cleared your throat in attempts to get your mind off of the cold that permeated through you and the nervousness that his still rigid member, which remained in your depths, brought forth. “Did that give you enough power to save the village?” Your voice was so hoarse, so overused and abused, but the worst part was the obvious exhaustion.

The effort it took to stay awake to wait for his answer became too great and your eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. Your brain, exceedingly thankful for the much-needed break, turned off almost instantly and you slumped completely in his arms. The rumble of his chest as he began to answer was all you were able to register before total exhaustion embraced you.

“Little mortal,” he began. “There is much more worship to be had.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @skydaddy01 @justmyownreality @hashira-mal @sneetsnoot @ladyyanna @ttipsyy @hi-my-name-is-korg @silvermadara

Hashirama||Madara

Season 2

#gods and mortals au #tribute to the gods au #naruto series #mortyvongola2 0 sacrificed series #mortyvongola2 fic #mortyvongola2 fanfic #naruto fanfiction #tobirama senju #tobirama simp #tobirama smut #tobirama #Tobirama Senju smut #fic art #god Tobirama #tobirailme #tobirama x reader #tobirama x y/n #reader insert #tobirama x you

[what-is-merlin-so-gay-for]

my obsession with the older brothers can only be topped by my obsession with the second son.

the second son, the life that was sniffed out too soon, the boy who was magic, who died and came back different, damaged, angry at the world he once loved. jason todd.

the second son, the spare, the perfect son who never rebelled, the tragedy left behind by his brother, the boy who was good but bad but so good, he whose death was his only rebellion but so much more important for it. regulus arcturus black.

the second son, the cold boy with a heart that burned, the loyal brother that loved so much but hid it all, he who lived and died for his brothers dream. tobirama senju.

never enough, always overshadowed by their older, better, braver brothers.

#the tragedy the drama the angst??? chefs kiss #i just really love them #they all fall in love with their brothers best friend btw #jason todd #regulus arcturus black #tobirama senju #honestly my characterization is based on ao3 fanfics #but i’m right #jayroy #starchaser #madatobi #not me trying to be a poet #truly embarrassing #mine

[messier-47]

Here it is

Ch.6

#my content #tobirama #naruto #madara #fubar #madatobi #fanfic #f2eb

[urjacamiyu]

I was write a fic about tobirama as onmyoji and uchihas as tengu clan... but i axed it, because writing in english is frustating me... these sketch was my inspiration when writing it. I like how itachi would protective towards his otoutou, sasuke is a brat who want to prove his self worth to his fmily/clan, madara is tengu patriarch who fallen to his human contractor... so many possibilities

#urja art #fanart #naruto #senju tobirama #madara uchiha #fanfic inspiration #my fanfic #itachi uchiha #sasuke uchiha #uchiha izuna #anime and manga #uchiha as tengu

[uniquelyabnormallyoriginal]

》 Naruto Fic List 《

Various characters / masterlist

> Masterlist

> domini album / masterlist

> Bit More

Naruto Uzumaki

> Lewd

Shikamaru Nara

> fae!shikamaru takes a liking to you☆

> You Have Friends?

> obsessed ex

> Fantasy

> The Morning

> MIND BREAK

> Troublesome, Pt. 1

> smoking hot

> Shikamaru x Reader 18+

> Truth or Dare

> Prompt: “Oh, how we’re going to hurt each other.”

> The Shadow Master

> One Night…

> You’re in my spot

> love is seen in the smallest of moments, when its just you and the other - alone.

> Sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ⵊɴ

> Drowsy Shadows

> Yours, Mine, Ours

> Lazy Mess

> Orgasm Denial(My Girl)

> Say My Name

> Bummer

> Pretty Girl

> "Subtle"

> Adorned By Lace And Shadows

> 2:37 A.M.

> Just my own Christmas

> First Time

> Bed Rest

> Shikamaru with a busty reader headcanons

Gaara of the desert

> Middle of the night

> AFAB reader x shikamaru x gaara

Tobirama Senju

> Devastated (Tobirama Senju x Fem! Anbu Reader)

> POLITICALLY LOVELESS

> We Just Met And This Is Crazy...

> The Home I Crave - Chapter XVIII

> DADDY KINK

> No Matter How Long It May Take

> Foul Creature (Tobirama x Uchiha!Reader) Part I

> The plan -Comfort series

> The Hokage’s Desk

> water under the bridge album

> Tobirama reunites with his lover after a battle.

> a/b/o hc

> brooding little heart

Kakashi Hatake

> Love Notes - How bad at flirting can you be?

> Pollen Count

> Leave It On

> Remember What You Said

> Is That Understood?

> Dangerous Desires (vi)

> Jitters

> YOU’RE MINE

Madara Uchiha

> senju reader

#naruto #naruto x reader #naruto fanfiction #naruto x y/n #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru x reader #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #anime fanfic #fic list #fic recs #anime x reader

[thesearchinggirl-png]

WIP// future scene from my madatobi fanfic 🩵❤️

#my art #fan art #art #artist #artists on tumblr #anime #my artwork #art work #arting #love child #madara #madara x tobirama #madatobi #mdtb #madara fanfiction #senju tobirama #madatobi fanfic #madatobi fanart #mpreg

[risuola]

VI — WHAT IF...? — F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

Tobirama never wanted children and not one of you ever brought the topic up, but now, as you grow more and more intimate and comfortable with each other you wonder, what if...?

cw: smut, reader discretion is advised — 2,1k words

a/n: i need to tell you guys that i'm so incredibely grateful for the positive feedback i got from you readers! i know that Tobirama isn't the most popular character in Naruto and i chose him to make this series about (because I love him, that's why) and it makes me so happy that you enjoy his little persona too! ❥ also, i'm very sorry for posting so rarely for this series, i was stuck in where to take the story now.

SERIES MASTERLIST

“God, I’m so damn busy.”

Tobirama’s low, deep voice rumbled against your skin as he kept latching his lips along the edges of you. You let your nails gently run across the pale flesh of his sides, your hands long gone underneath the dark ink-blue fabric of his blouse, yearning for the warmth of a man that has your heart in a tight grip for way longer than you’d ever suspect. The marks he was leaving at his wake matched the color to the ones you were painting on his back and you couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction when he hissed near your ear. The stinging sensation of your scratches fueled his fire even more and only seconds passed before your pants were pushed down and underwear got ripped into pieces. The heat of your core now exposed to his whims, starved tremendously for any touch of his, and you whimper – the sound nearly pathetic, as he moved his fingers along your dripping slit, spreading the slick and making their way around the pulsating bud.

“My love,” you breathed again, leaning your head against his peck, inhaling the subtle, fresh scent that always stuck to his body. A mixture of tangerine and pepper, a hint of sandal wood hovering above the soft undertone of morning dew and rain. “My god, I missed you.” You spoke, but what was leaving your mouth was incoherent, it was airy and broken; stuttered between the expert circles Tobirama was massaging right into your nervous system.

“I missed you too,” he replied, quiet against the crown of your head, taking in your aura and impatiently moving his fingers a little bit further, making them slip right into you. One by one, he was focused on stretching you out, the tight ring of muscles clenching around his digits as he moved them back and forth.

“Tobi, please–“ you whined, gripping onto his sides with enough force to ground yourself.

“You think you are ready for me?”

“I do, please,” there was no hint of uncertainty when you begged for him to fuck you. Right there, on his desk, in his office in the hokage tower. There was no worry in you, no thought about his brother few doors further down the hall, no nothing that could convince you that it wasn’t the best idea and it seemed your husband has just as little concerns because it didn’t take him long to be inside you.

A low, gravelly groan escaped his throat, vibrating against your lips that glued to his throat marked their way across the sensitive skin over his Adam’s apple. It’s been too long since he felt you that close, it’s been too long since he was able to just lose himself in you, be vulnerable in the loving embrace of your body, be the person he never got to be publicly and instead of thinking and analyzing, just letting himself feel. And then, he was sure, that if ever he wished to feel anything, it was you he wanted to experience. It was you since the day he saw you for the first time, led by a servant in your family palace, blinded and obedient but bearing a beauty that tainted his thoughts perpetually.

Tobirama will always remember the feeling of your body – the soft curve of your shoulder he kept his hand on to lead you out of your village, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheekbones when he took the blindfold off your face, revealing the eyes in which he got lost with no return. You were nothing more than a girl he just met back then, a wife-to-be but someone unknown and yet, his heart knew on the spot that things will change. And they did, he knew it’ll happen, but he wouldn’t dare to wish his life to turn out so dramatically different to what he predicted. Love was a feeling as foreign as fear to his heart. A heart he thought was frozen and nothing more than a dot in the constellation of organs that kept him alive. The beat in his chest has never had any more meaning than to keep his body going and the very same beat now goes crazy, rumbling against his ribs whenever he sees you. Tobirama knew his life will change, the very moment his head was filled with terror and uneasiness when Hashirama passed him the decision regarding the arrangement. He knew about all the shifts in his day to day life he will simply have to commit to and yet, the most vibrant of his dreams, the most brave and perverse could have never created what he had now. You.

You, on the desk he’s used to work at. You, with your plush thighs wrapped around his waist, your hands gripping onto him for just a fraction of support, panting out moans, so light and breathy, against his lips, quietly escaping only for his ears to hear. With your core clenching, aching to accommodate him whole and yet, greedy enough to take everything, to want more. Senju would never imagine he will be blessed enough to hear his name spoken with so much love he could actually feel it seeping through the sound of it.

You kept squeezing him and he kept losing his mind over every twitch your walls did around him. You were a work of art, he thought as his eyes followed the lines of your body. An arch of your back now prominent, and the only thing that kept you from falling flat onto the desk was a pair of his hands, strongly holding your waist to himself. Your eyes were absent, your mind long gone into the realm of pleasure and yet, your fingers stayed on his biceps, squeezing the flesh and wandering, hungry to have more of him.

“Tobi–“ you breathed out, the name just barely sliding on top of the air you were panting out and you pulled yourself closer to him. Your palms now found their way to his back, stretching the fabric of his blouse to feel the skin underneath it and you leaned into him, as he leaned into you. Your foreheads touched, noses squeezed together as the final moves of his hips brought both of you over the edge. Your breaths mingled together, a soft, broken sounds made for a cacophony of love you just shared and you shut your eyes to just feel him fully.

“Welcome back home,” your husband whispered finally, kissing your lips shortly after your smile acknowledged his words. The gesture was soft, languid and though you knew it was carrying much more than just concluding the sex. There was love that it carried, emotions unraveling with each movement of his mouth against yours and you felt the warmth spreading all over your body.

“I missed you too,” you replied, softly and quietly, slowly breaking the kiss off but not shying away from marking the line of his jawline with few more wet spots. “Let’s get cleaned, shall we?”

* * *

Watching Tobirama fight was one of your favorite things to do ever since you got to marry him. It amazed you every time you had a chance to witness his training and your husband never failed to take your breath away with how skilled and precise his movements are, how much control he has over nature releases and how well he wields the sword. Of course, the moment he offered you to join him while he trained with Kagami, you said yes without a second thought.

The boy from the clan of fire has become a part of your family in a way. Ever since you gave him a hand, helped him go through the traumatic events that happened with his biological parents, you kept an eye on him. With regular visits at his new home, you got to know his new parents – lovely people – and you really attached yourself to the little kid. He was growing so fast, warming your heart and soul as you watched the smile on his face and pinched his cheeks every time you had a chance, because soon he’ll be too big for you to do so any longer (you’ll try anyway). Kagami was a constant guest at your house, spreading his warm aura across the place where you and your husband live and making you smile every time you saw him, because the few days you got to take a close care of him were the sweetest memories you held onto. You’ll never forget the way he clung onto you, with trust and a kind of love that a child gives an adult that it feels safe with.

Tobirama grew to love the boy rather quickly – though he was reluctant to admit how fast it happened, but you knew he felt the intense need of care in just few days of little Uchiha in his life. Now it wasn’t a secret anymore – your husband openly treated the kid as if it was his own and even though he strongly believed that kids shouldn’t be exposed to war and violence, he was very supportive when it came to trainings. Even on the busiest days of his schedule, he always found a moment or two to spare for the cheerful child that came to visit the hokage tower every time he was around.

“Tired already?” Senju asked, watching the brunette gathering up from the green grass on one of the meadows that were more of a training field than a piece of greenery. An open space so big in comparison to the almost eight-year-old tiny human and yet he bravely raised up to his little feet, clenching his fingers around the handle of his kunai.

 “No!” He called out, panted and a small smile tugged on your husband’s lips as he got into his stance yet again. It was a spectacle of trust and power and you admired your man for being able to perfectly calculate how much strength he can put into every move of his body to make the little one hustle just enough.

You, as you sat on the side, resting on the soft blanket and surrounded by homemade food you prepared to feed both boys after they’re done and some bandages and first aid supplies that you knew will be needed to tend scrapes and cuts that Kagami will most likely be covered in after the session. All those little, harmless wounds you’ll later kiss and wrap around, tickling the child and basking in the sweet sound of his giggles muffled by the pieces of rice and meat you’ll give him.

You smiled, then sighed, feeling a sentiment washing over you. A slight tension made your muscles twitch and soon you found yourself pressing a hand onto your belly. You wished to have children, not always – but now, as you found love in the village that confidently you call your cherished home, more and more often you catch yourself thinking.

Tobirama didn’t want any offspring, at least that’s what he told you few days after the wedding – as he was explaining to you the mechanisms of the arrangement and briefing you through his visions of the future between you and him, he mentioned that his brother will secure the bloodline, therefore he has no wish to have kids himself. It’s something you agreed on, then slightly intimidated by his cold and calm persona, but three years had passed since you and him got bonded by knot of matrimony and as you think of it, none of his predictions came to life.

Sometimes you chuckled mentally, knowing how far off is what you have now to what he told you he think will happen. It was meant to be loveless, it was meant to be dry and distant. He told you that he’s sorry for the future you were given to, that he’s not going to love you just like you deserve but then, he did just that. He swore he’s cold, that his heart isn’t capable of sharing feelings as romantic as love but Tobirama loves, and he loves hot. Every kiss and stolen touch with him burns right into your soul, warms you from the inside, makes you happy and cherished, and you knew, deep inside of your heart, that his mind changed long time ago. You knew, deep down, that he’s content with what you built together, that he’s happier than he ever would be if your marriage turned out as he thought it will.

And so, you wondered if his will to have children changed as well? You never talked about it with him, never asked and he didn’t as well. Lost in the constant rush of his busy schedule, from meeting to meeting and from fight to fight, Tobirama stayed quiet about the issue and you, now leading the anbu, never had guts to bring it up either. But now, as you sat there, basking in the warm rays of the summer sun, you wondered what if…?

» NEXT PART SOON

taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog

#naruto #naruto imagines #shippuden imagines #naruto shippuden #shippuden #tobirama #tobirama senju #senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama imagines #tobirama fluff #tobirama smut #tobirama fanfic #tobirama fanfiction #tobirama x you #senju x reader #senju x you #senju fanfiction #tobirama imagine #tobirama arranged marriage #tobirama senju x reader #naruto x reader #konoha founders #senju tobirama #senju imagines #naruto fluff #senju fluff #tobirama x y/n #tobirama senju x you #tobirama senju x y/n

[4mastom4]

Day 1. Water + bonus Love.

Tobirama is like water – a flexible element. Water is able to adapt to anything and give itself the perfect shape it wants. Tobirama, like water, adapts to changes in his life. Do affect the water, but it will return to its original state. If you throw a stone into the water, it will only stir, the ripples on the water surface will be the only hint of concern, but it will disappear without a trace. But the stone will remain at the bottom.

Bonus:

Who else would teach Tobirama to love. That's what parents are given to show by their own example what it is like to love. And what if your mother died after the birth of Kawarama, what if your father, after the death of his beloved, hid from the children under a cold and impassive mask? Tobirama did not know how to love, but he studied desperately. Hashirama knew how to love, but not himself.

#naruto #my art #senju tobirama #tobirama #hashirama #hashirama senju #naruto fanart #my artwork #art #tbrmweek2024 #tbrmweek #tobirama week #my fic post #my fic writing #fanfic #hashitobi

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter XVII

Chapter 17/?

Wordcount 1,8k

Title Cold

Fandom Naruto

Pairing Tobirama Senju X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 .  7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warning (s): none

Tagging @uzumakgi (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just send an ask or a message 😉)

N. A.: So… it's been a while lmao

I'm on a break from work and took this time to rest and organize some stuff that has been abandoned for months, including this story. This chapter brings a change in reader's perspectives, but not a clear confession. It's more of a deliberation, and that's why it's so short. Also I commented about it here on Tumblr, and I'm gonna repeat it here: there are some impacful things waiting for reader in the future, and these ideas have been with me for all this time I haven't wrote for this fic, and I'm happy that they will finally see the light of the day.

I apologize for leaving this story aside for this long, but I hope you enjoy this modest comeback :)

(Also I couldn't decide which GIF to use so let's have this charming one for now ❤🥰)

It was early in the morning and you woke up to find out you caught a cold.

A soreness in your throat was the first thing you sensed once you opened your eyes, but you were too tired to stand up and seek for water, and your head felt too heavy for you to move. You sighed: so that was what you gained for working so hard. You didn’t think you were so susceptible.

With effort, you turned to your side under the sheet only to have the unpleasant discovery of a running nose. The irritation overcame your exhaustion and you finally sat on the futon, standing there for minutes to prepare yourself and head to the bathroom in order to clean your nostrils...

But before you could do it, you heard the sounds of steps approaching your spot. The room was so quiet that you thought you were alone in it, but you looked up and found Tobirama approaching with some objects in hands. When he stopped and knelt beside the futon, you identified the things as paper towels and a cup with some steamy liquid of citric smell.

He bent down and gave you the items without a word. You mumbled a “thank you” and spent the next minutes alternating between the cup and the towels.

When you finally were able to speak, the first thing you said was all but unexpected:

- This is the worst moment for one to catch a cold – you grunted with your palms around the cup half full, your voice nothing more than a whisper – I can’t believe I’ve been long enough under the water to end up like this.

- To be fair, we’ve been spending long periods in the wild, including in wet territories – he crossed his arms – Your current condition is not entirely unexpected when we think of this.

You thought of asking why he didn’t seem to be as affected as yourself when you have been under the influence of the same weather, but after being with him for a while you could just suppose this endurance had something to do with the Senju blood, so you just nodded and said nothing.

You left the bed and went to the bathroom at last, washed your face and were going to take your things to prepare a hot bath. When you looked at your side, you noticed the bathtub was already full.

- I filled it and heated the water moments ago – Tobirama’s voice came from the bathroom’s door – It is better to check the temperature before entering it.

You looked from the tub to him, and then back to the tub. You went there and put your fingers in the water; it was still warm.

- It’s still good – and with a pause – Thank you.

He accepted it with a nod and was turning to leave, when you called him.

- Was it possible to find shelter and food for all the people who stood here? How are they going by now?

- They are trying their best despite the circumstances – the reply was categorical, as if he wasn’t surprised with the sudden change in the conversation’s direction at all – And yes, there are enough resources for all of them. The inn’s staff, Yoko-san and my Clones have been working on this since last night. Messages have been sent to the villages near, requesting supplies and help. Fortunately no one got sick, just tired. The children are the ones having the hardest time to understand the situation, but Yoko-san and the female workers are giving their mothers the necessary support.

You felt a twinge of discomfort when you heard that. So everyone was working to give the victims of the storm all they needed, including your husband, while you would have to stay in your room just because of a stupid cold. Great.

Again, Tobirama’s voice brought you back from your deliberations.

- Y/n-san. You do not need to tire yourself out thinking of this. You have done enough. Remember that it was your family’s jutsu that saved all those lives. If there is someone to whom they owe gratitude, it is you.

You stood up and crossed your arms.

- I know. Still…

A moment of silence and you shook the frustration aside, again changing the subject.

- And what about you?

He frowned.

- Me?

- Where did you sleep last night? – you shrugged – I know you’re used to wake up early, but after all of that you must be tired.

Knowing him the way you did, you weren’t shocked with the response you got: you didn’t even startle when he said he did not sleep.

- Yes, I am tired, but there was still work to do. My Clones have been helping the staff and the others while I’ve been here with you.

Well, that took a reaction out of you. You were sort of imagining that he would leave a Shadow Clone beside you and go work for the villagers in person, if he hasn’t decided to take a well deserved – and needed – rest, for creating and maintaining Clones was tiring to a certain point. However, after spending all that amount of chakra, he was still able to send new Clones to work and stood awake, taking care of you since you came back.

You approached the bathroom’s door and crossed it, passing by your husband. You went to your things and grabbed some clothing and soap. When you came back, you stopped before him. You silently thanked all the stuff you were carrying, so that he would never see your shaking hands: even after all those days traveling with him, your body still reacted that way whenever you got close.

You raised your eyes to his, facing their redness with all the courage you could gather in those few seconds.

- You should really take some rest. We still have some days on the road.

- I know. But I do not like the idea of leaving you without assistance while I sleep.

You startled at those words before you could stop yourself and gave him the fastest verbal reply you could think of before your face heated up.

- I’ll be fine! – and fearing that you have spoken too loud, – I’ll be fine, I promise. If you’re staying here, I can call you if I need something.

You thought you were going to find some resistance from his part, but he accepted your suggestion and left to give you privacy for the bath.

***

You took longer than usual to take off your clothes more because of some aching in your muscles than because of the headache, that only increased when you bowed your head. You raised your arms to brush and tie your hair up and hissed in discomfort and annoyance: you couldn’t believe you were that bad.

When you entered the tub, you had this sensation that the water was hotter than when you checked it with your hand. Were your hands too cold to mistake the temperature or weren’t you paying enough attention? You didn’t think it mattered, since the water seemed hot enough for you to stay in it for a long time.

Your limbs were all complaining since you left the futon, only relaxing when touched by the water. You stretched your legs as much as the tub’s width allowed you and rested your head on its edge, secretly grateful for the impossibility of leaving the room that day: you were really tired, as you haven’t been in a long time, and were yet to process the events of the last night. However, that was something you wouldn’t do right now. You just wanted to rest, despite sleeping for the entire night.

You sighed. You were so used to work hard that you didn’t sound like yourself that morning. But heavens, when was the last time you were forced to work to your limit? Well…

Have you ever been forced to your limit before?

If the answer was yes, you still had too much to improve. But you didn’t want to think of this right now; you wanted to get rid of this cold and continue your journey, reach your family’s home, see your sister. Your sister. How was she doing by now? You knew she was being well cared, yet your heart still ached with anxiety for her. This sickness, so sudden in a healthy girl like her. You just couldn’t accept it.

Slowly, your thoughts wandered towards your husband.

I do not like the idea of leaving you without assistance while I sleep.

You found yourself smiling at those words. Hearing them touched a new chord in your heart, one that you didn’t know about; it was the same when you saw him in action the night before, how quickly he memorized your hand seals and mastered your jutsu. There you had a truth you didn’t like to admit: Tobirama was stronger – and more skilled – than you. When you thought about this, you realized that if he wanted, he could just trap you and take you back to Konoha; in fact, he had countless chances to do so, still he decided to follow you in this failure of a travel. Not only this, but he has been taking care of you since the first day, giving you advice and even asking for your help – he who made it clear that working all by himself would always be his plan A.

Any other girl would be embarrassed or ashamed in your place, but you… You still didn’t know what was that feeling you had. No, you didn’t forget the reasons why you were there, why you tried to leave the Leaf Village in secret: he had his part in this. Still… he has been showing consideration towards you when you didn’t even ask for it. Was he trying to get something in return or was all of that some sort of punishment for you? No, it couldn’t be. You’ve met men like him before, so you knew they always had a hard time dissimulating; it wasn’t their style. And wasn’t Tobirama’s as well: the man would sweat honesty.

In this case... how hard it would have been for him to not talk to you about that letter, to keep your sister’s condition a secret from you?

You frowned and moved under the water, nervous with the new idea forming in your brain. Was it too soon to give him a chance and consider forgiveness, or were you being too stubborn by now? Well, all you knew was that if you were some foolish little girl, you would’ve already changed your manners towards him and forget all the events that preceded your departure from Konoha. But a shinobi would stay quiet and observe until they find out what they were supposed to do.

You sighed and continued your bath. Wait ad observe, that sounded good for you.

Let’s see what you got for me, Senju.

#naruto fanfic #tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama fanfic #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Part VI

Synopsis: You would say that you grew up together. From children, to teenagers, to young leaders, you did nothing but be who you were and Tobirama would forever name his love for you as the reason he hated the Uchiha.

Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including physical child abuse, violence, and non-con elements. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Notes: IT IS HERE! YES! i purposefully make it long and full of drama to make up for the amount of times I pushed the release back. I also put a lot of my own thoughts in the end author’s notes so please enjoy! I most definitely could not have written this content a year ago let me tell you—

The memory of you struck him like lightning, electrocuting him to his core with panic and disgust. He revoked his touch from you as you began to sit up on the riverbank in acute panic. 

He just stared at you. Tobirama had no idea how he remembered you, yet he wondered how he hadn’t seen it before. Yes, you were older, but as he considered the shape of your face, he could see the unmistakable look from the forest back then. You had the same nose, such a familiar laugh, and your eyes… even without your sharingan.

He had thought of you as a foul creature. 

That morning when he first saw you in the woods. 

Tobirama had come home much earlier that day in defeat. He hadn’t wanted to stay and train after his encounter with you. He tried to continue, to find another spot to collect himself, but he ultimately couldn’t help but feel that you were still there, watching him. Knowing an Uchiha lurked around in the woods, it was probably best that he didn’t go off alone for his safety.

He remembered how his father stormed toward him when he returned to the compound. Butsuma’s jaw was clenched as tightly as ever, battle-toned arms swinging with each step of his furious gait. He swooped in on his son, grabbing Tobirama harshly by the arm. Tobirama was tugged along awkwardly, his legs too short for the angle at which Butsuma dragged him.

“Where have you been?” his father scolded lowly between gritted teeth. He paid no mind to the Senju meandering down the same dirt road, and they paid no mind to him in turn.

The question nearly made Tobirama’s heart drop in his chest, the memory of you spreading terror like wildfire across his skin. He looked into Butsuma’s gaze with wide eyes, wondering how his father could have possibly known he had made contact with an Uchiha. His fingers unconsciously rose to the space under his right eye, almost trembling. He was sure that his father could feel the tremor through his hold.

“Training, Father,” Tobirama answered earnestly. He almost crashed into Butsuma as his father stopped suddenly, the child only tripping for a moment before he was pulled into a nearby stable. 

“Tobirama, where have you been?” Butsuma barked, repeating his question more harshly. He jerked Tobirama away by the grip on his arm, allowing him to stumble back into the hay. All Tobirama could do was stare, ashamed that he had disgraced the Senju name and that his father could see it painted on him. Promises piled up on his lips: if he saw you again, he would surely kill you that time! He would immediately set out and— “You better answer me now, boy, or I’ll beat you within an inch of your life.”

“I was training with Grandfather’s kunai, Father! On the east end by the mountains like you taught me!” He nodded profusely, scrambling into a deep bow. Tobirama’s eyes knitted closed. 

The silence above him felt like it lasted for an eternity. Tobirama didn’t dare to look, and for a long moment, he couldn’t even meet his father’s eye. Somewhere between the seconds, he found himself mindlessly observing the small population of livestock grazing at the stable's far end. Tobirama glanced at them and their troughs. 

“You were not with Hashirama?” Butsuma spoke slowly, and Tobirama’s head carefully rose with a shake. 

“No, I was not.” Tobirama flinched as Butsuma’s hand came firmly down on his hair, placing just enough weight on his skull to ensure that all of Tobirama’s attention was on him. “I assure you. I was practicing my skill with the kunai.”

“Your elder brother has been acting suspiciously as of late. I want you to find him and report to me what he has been up to.” Butsuma landed a harsh pat on Tobirama’s back, ushering him away. He scrambled away as quickly as he could back into the forest, still gripping the pack of weaponry on his back.

***

It made more sense after that evening. 

Hashirama knelt on a cushion beside him, the two sons before their father. 

“About this boy you have been meeting up with. I looked into that young man and learned that he belongs to the Uchiha clan. Hashirama, you understand what that means, do you not?” The brothers stiffened, forcing on stoic faces so as not to let their discomfort show. Butsuma’s gaze narrowed. “If you do not want to be suspected as a spy, then you must shadow him after the next time the two of you meet. And if he should notice you… kill him.” 

Tobirama eyed his brother nervously. Undoubtedly, the conflict between the Senju and the Uchiha would mean this was the only way to rectify things. Tobirama stared down at his lap, guilt weighing down on his shoulders. 

There was no way for anyone to know about his encounter with you, and even if his father found out, Tobirama was different. At least he tried to kill you. That was enough, wasn’t it? Unlike Hashirama, he at least tried to do the right thing and kill the Uchiha on sight, no matter his level of success.

After a moment of preponderance, Hashirama spoke again,

“Are you completely sure he is an Uchiha?” 

Tobirama gulped, bracing himself for the heavy hit that awaited Hashirama. But it didn’t come. Butsuma studied him with crossed arms, bubbling rage mounting in his chest. He gritted his teeth.

“You trust a member of the clan who killed your brother?” Butsuma simmered. Tobirama stewed, praying for the moment that he was allowed to leave. Hashirama sat confused and still deep in thought on his cushion, not appearing nearly as worried as he should, in Tobirama’s opinion. “If he has been tricking you, you are putting every single Senju in danger.”

Despite Tobirama attempting to convince him otherwise, Hashirama was reluctant to comply. But after a lengthy beating from Butsuma, Hashirama finally agreed to be followed. As they eventually left the room, Tobirama couldn’t help but avert his gaze from the deep bruises and the forlorn expression on Hashirama’s face. 

***

“I am an apothecary,” you had told him. 

He didn’t ask you where. With the tumultuous clan wars, Tobirama assumed you were part of a smaller, nomadic group. As the more prominent clans and clan alliances fought, non-combatants traveled to safer ground, ironically forming their own larger herds for protection.

That was Tobirama’s first mistake: assuming.

“An apothecary,” Tobirama repeated. You wore his fur, curled up against a bed of river glass and hidden between a mess of boulders. He sat on a nearby rock, the headband you had confiscated and returned to him clutched in a ball in his hand. Tobirama cocked his head. “Is that a healer?”

“A woman healer?” you asked, hardly restraining the tiny smile that graced your lips. Your eyes glowed with wonder as you leaned forward, having never heard of such a thing. “No, I am afraid I only collect herbs for medicine. Although our current apothecary is very old, he taught me how to create medicines when we used to live by the coast. A rare honor.” Tobirama’s eyebrows rose on his forehead with an impressed blink.

“That is admirable. Your work takes a keen eye and a sharp mind.” You shifted against the grass to sit with your legs crossed as you leaned forward. A patch of small river flowers grew in a cluster where the gravel of the riverbank began. The white petals grew sporadically down the length of the land. You weaved your fingers through the tiny stems, the pure light color glowing against your skin. 

“You know about medicine?” you mused.

“Yes, my clan is well renowned for our knowledge of various medicines. The children are taught about these things at a young age, although, I possessed neither a keen enough eye nor a sharp enough mind for healing, to the disappointment of my mother.” You drew a bent knee toward your chest, rearranging your long robes as you gently collected the tiny flowers.

“Was she a woman healer?” You scooted forward to sit in front of him.

“No,” he said, letting you smooth back his hair. “She was a warrior like my father. Wove baskets—beautiful baskets— when she was with us. My grandmother was a master healer, though.”

“A woman master healer,” you breathed in awe to yourself, weaving the flowers into Tobirama’s hair. You couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips. “That is fascinating.” 

“My grandfather used to take me fishing in the northern streams before he passed. He always brought her herbs. Perhaps I could find some of her formulas. You may find them interesting.” 

“Really?” You leaned back on your ankles, admiring the little white flowers that adorned Tobirama’s crown. “I could not ask you to do such a thing.”

“If you are not allowed to learn of medicine and herbs, how else will you pursue being a great apothecary?” You blinked at him in disbelief, taken aback. “That is your dream, is it not? You speak of it often.”

“Do I?” You let out a light laugh, sheepishly averting your gaze. “I apologize. My good friend from home often tells me I speak too much.” Tobirama scoffed.

“Some friend,” he muttered, but his gaze softened as he adjusted the fur over your shoulders. “You do not speak too much. Especially when it concerns things you are passionate about. Therefore—” Tobirama plucked one of the flowers out of his hair and tucked it behind your ear. “Tell me about this flower.” 

You instinctively opened your mouth but quickly closed it when you noticed Tobirama’s expression chance. He held a glint in his eye and the beginning of a smile on his thin lips. He leaned forward, brushing your hand along another patch of little petals.

“I know you know this one,” he said softly before leaning back against the boulder behind him. His bright red eyes met your own. They held softness in them. “Please, I would like to listen.”

You almost laughed, your nervousness almost causing you to forget all your knowledge as his touch left you.

“They call this purity flower. It is incredibly delicate, and they only grow this big.” You stared down to where Tobirama had placed your hand. “You can do quite a few things with them. They are wonderful for sore throats, sanitizing wounds, upset stomachs…”

You brushed through them, and a few flowers crumpled under your fingers.

He would never forget that. The way your face fell as the flowers at the center of the cluster began to shrivel.

***

He was smarter than Hashirama. 

Tobirama wasn’t a traitor to the clan. Tobirama wouldn’t be caught fraternizing with an Uchiha like his foolish brother. He was stern, calculating. He was so careful. 

He had carried his prized Uchiha-killing kunai with him the entire time. 

It was strapped to his leg when he first chased after you. 

It was with him as you adorned him with blossoms. 

He held the same knife he had once held up to your neck as he screamed in your face that he would carve out your eyes the entire time. 

And he had another chance.

It was right in front of him, as you blathered on about the daylight. Your lips moved, but nothing came from your mouth. 

He had another opportunity to redeem himself. 

The moment of his childhood that haunted him for many nights could have been corrected. Tobirama was a true warrior now. He could have killed you. He could have carved out your sharingan, sinking his kunai into your skull as you screamed and kicked under him, just as he promised long ago. No one would hear you out here. 

He could do anything he wanted to you.

But he hesitated again, and now his only weapon was lost.

The time you had been sneaking around had hardly been long; the days in sum dwarfed compared to a year. 

And now he watched you in the morning sun, his heart and head doing a double take as his eyes hurriedly searched for the kunai he had pushed into the river. But it was long gone. 

“It is morning?!” You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. Startled, Tobirama scurried up with you, stumbling back until one of his feet sank into the rushing water. You lurched forward instinctively to steady him.

“Do not touch me!” he barked, and the gruffness of his voice made you recoil. He faltered, sputtering with a vigorous shake of his head. Tobirama balanced himself as the cold, rushing current pushed at his knee. He looked up at you, staring into your wide, confused eyes. 

Looking upon you in the daylight made him view you in a way he never had before.

Yes, he could see it now. 

He could see the Uchiha in you… and it was ugly.

Every part of him burned. It was as if he had been coated in mud, leaving his skin irritated, itchy and inflamed. He wished he could scrub every inch of himself of you. Slice, scratch, and claw into himself to erase the ghost of your lingering touch. 

Tobirama burned with shame. 

You shifted, moving to speak, when something covered your eyes. You snatched it slowly in confusion, but as the silk ribbon slid from your hair to drape over your fingers, your eyes quickly widened even farther than they already were. Tobirama stood in the water, watching you with a pounding chest as you, too, stumbled back. Your gaze darted from the Uchiha crest to Tobirama, who, for once, did not hold any softness in his expression. 

“Oh.” You held your shaking hand up to your lips. You took another step back. Tobirama didn’t move.

He looked angry, the tension of his clenched jaw just about making the entirety of his body shake. His brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and rage. And all he could do was stare at you with fists balled up in mounting fury. Tobirama’s eyes turned glossy as he held back the burning tears that threatened to spill over his waterline. 

You weren’t thinking, not as you stepped forward and spoke his name.

You wanted to go to him, tell him it was all a misunderstanding. Something. You tried to tell him something, anything.

You stepped forward, and Tobirama planted his second foot in the water.

“Do not come closer, Uchiha!” he spat. His words halted you in your stride. Tobirama stumbled back, splashing in the shallows. His clothes were drenched with dark patches which adorned his legs and sides. He held his hand up, almost as a buffer between him and you. He shook, and droplets fell back into the rushing current of the water. 

His father’s words to his brother repeatedly played in his head. 

Tobirama had been endangering his clan all this time. He had been reckless and naive, just like his brother. He sat as the current rushed by, stuck and frozen like a cornered animal, trying to calculate how many of his kinsmen could have been saved if he had been more sparing with his tongue. 

You spoke in a meek voice,

“Tobirama—”

“Get out of here! Do not dare show your face back here, foul creature; I will kill you!” he screamed with all the weight of his guilt. Tobirama rose to his full height, hulking shoulders squared. You didn’t wait a second longer before you ran. You ran straight into the brush, and in an instant, you were deep into the forest. You could still hear Tobirama shouting behind you. “I will kill you, Uchiha! I will carve out your sharingan! I—”

He choked the moment he lost sight of you.

Tobirama dropped to his knees, splashing again down into the water. He heaved, his throat burning as he threw up into the river's current. Tobirama uttered a strangled cry, mucus dropping from his mouth and nose. Hot tears poured down his face as he gasped into the surface, nearly drowning himself in the water and his own mess. 

You continued to run. You ran through the woods, paying little mind to the scrapes you collected as you rushed back toward the Uchiha colony. Your foot snagged against a fallen branch, causing you to smack face-first into a nearby log. You scrambled to your feet, heart pumping as you continued back home, your breath rasping rhythmically in your ears. Wetness streamed down your face, combining tears, snot, and blood to cake your skin. 

But as you grew closer to your colony, the scent of smoke grew stronger. And as you looked up between the branches, you could see a dark cloud rising into the air. 

The weeping became clearer. Agonized weeping. 

You burst forth from the trees to your family’s garden. 

To where the garden should have been, but the garden was gone.

Your home was gone, and a smoking pile of charcoal was left in its place. 

A few structural beams shot out from the pile of char, like pleading limbs reaching up toward the heavens for a salvation that would never come. The paper walls were gone. The engawa had been reduced to rubble. The engawa that you and Madara stood on just hours before while your parents discussed your union.

…

Your parents.

You shouted for them, rushing straight for the ruins of your home. Large masses of char littered the streets, marking the resting places of other houses just like yours. Your eyes darted about in a frenzy, making eye contact with the mourning Uchiha, who littered the dirt streets for any confirmation that your parents had made it. 

“Where are my parents?” You cried to people who averted their gazes. One woman covered her child’s ears, holding him close to her chest. “Have you seen my parents? Please! Someone! Did they make it? Will you not answer me?” 

But no one answered you. 

There was just weeping.

You didn’t see their faces or those of your family. 

You raced toward the rubble, rifling through the mess with tears blurring your vision. You were howling something, letting words spill and tumble from your lips with the same liquidity as the water pouring from your face. Your fingers began to sting. Debris cut your skin, forming abrasions that filled with soot and dirt as you clawed at what used to be your home. 

A muscular arm looped under your torso. You kicked your legs as you continued to wail, pounding your fists at the back of red armor. You could only watch as you were slowly carried away from the wreckage of your home, the reminisce of other ruined buildings gathering into your blurry view with every step. 

You went limp about halfway down the road, hanging upside down with your cheek smushed against a bloody backplate. You cried, the compilation of mucus stuck in your nose, causing your sinuses to burn. You coughed, fist pounding a last time against armor before you were dropped back to the ground. 

Your knees gave out under you, and before you stood Madara. 

Tall, hulking, and imposing Madara with a somber expression on his face and a gaping wound on his side. He still held you by the hand, your fingers just barely hooked on his. His feet were stained with blood and caked with dirt, and sitting in the disturbed dirt road sat vials of herbs and a collection of your supplies from the apothecary. 

Only then did you notice what he was surveying behind you, letting your hand drop from his.

Bodies of the injured were splayed out on salvaged blankets in the middle of the street. The able-bodied scurried around with what little medical supplies could be salvaged from the remains of your village, tending to warriors, women, children, and elders alike. Your head snapped back toward Madara.

“You must make medicine,” Madara said in a voice barely above a whisper, although it was by no means gentle. He held a gruffness in his voice. Frustration laced his tone. You heaved yourself up, something about being on the ground making you feel more vulnerable than you already felt in your confusion.

“Madara, I—”

“What?” Madara snapped, jerking forward at you. You recoiled, lips closing instantly. “What now, woman? Can you not see the crisis laid out in front of you? You have received exactly what you wanted and yet remain stubborn even when a man is giving you direct instructions.” You were still dazed.

“Where is Makihara?”

It wasn’t hard for Madara to wrestle you back to the ground. Your head slammed against the dirt, the vials of herbs and medicine sideways in your vision. Madara’s lips touched your ear as he spoke venom directly into your skull. His words sent a submissive chill directly into your heart.

“For the sake of the gods, make the goddam medicine and cease your difficulty. Your clan head bids it.” He released your head, which was engulfed in his wide-handed grip. You stared dizzily at his back as he walked away, his form wavering in your vision.

“Clan… head?”

***

Madara was officially deemed the head of the Uchiha clan later that night, bare except for his loin cloth as his body was painted with sacred symbols. He sat like a king on the ruins of the Uchiha village, looking pensive and severe.

The ceremony was intimate, traditional, and without frills.

Somber.

What was left of the village wasn’t made to attend, but most showed their faces in the torchlight, gazing upon their new leader as Madara was adorned with red and white paint. The population of Uchiha gathered around him, squishing together to watch the decoration of their new leader. 

Madara sat amongst the ruins of what used to be your colony, looking solemn in the warm glow of the flames around him. He stared ahead. A surviving elder smeared two lines of red paint under Madara’s eyes with shaky fingers. Bandages covered the elder’s eye, wrapping all the way around his head. Another elder brushed his frail hands over Madara’s cheeks with white before anointing his forehead with his thumb. 

You had made that paint. You admired it from the back of the crowd. 

A few children had been sent to gather pigmented clay while you exhausted the rest of your herbal supply on medicinal remedies. Even with what you made stretch, you barely had enough to treat all the wounded. Burying the dead had taken all day. 

Madara stood in front of all the Uchiha, bare-chested and painted in holy symbols as the clan revered him. He barked, the deep, powerful sound resounding from his chest. His colored abs flexed with the call, and the Uchiha chanted back, filling the surrounding forest with spirited howling. 

He stood as the new leader of the Uchiha clan, yet the colors that adorned him were yours, as were the herbs that decorated his wound.

***

Your parents were dead.

It was a fact that you recalled often during the mindless time you spent crushing herbs, beseeching the weight of it to sink in. But instead, you were met with numbness, even as the mourners around you grieved their lost loved ones. 

You sat under your makeshift canopy on a rug of simple woven threads. The three sides of your new apothecary were draped with fabric, acting as a buffer to the light night breeze. And there you thought, pulverizing medicine with your pestle to replenish your depleted medicinal supply. As the clan’s only apothecary, you could no longer collect herbs. In a strike of irony, this in turn meant that you were too important and no longer allowed to leave the Uchiha’s new territory.

You hadn’t noticed Madara’s presence. Only when the torchlight from outside no longer filtered into your tent did you think to even blink. He stood over you, harsh shadows cast across his face from the lone lamp that lit up your workspace. Madara’s colors had faded from his skin, but the stain from the dye remained as the faintest of hues.

You could just barely see the holy symbols.

“Does the new location please you?” 

You stopped, the moment of distraction allowing the ache in your hands to set in. You nearly dropped your pestle, recoiling slightly as the tension froze your fingers. You had been working since daybreak.

“I cannot say I have been able to see much of it, Madara.”

“Come, then.” 

To your surprise, Madara extended his hand to you. You looked upon him with exhaustion, almost to ask if he genuinely meant what he spoke. He waited patiently for you to place your hand in his before whisking you into the surrounding woods. 

***

The Uchiha had retreated farther inland, upstream to the higher ground by the mountains. The trees were large in these parts, far larger than you were used to. They extended twice the height compared to the ones in your previous territory, towering large fans of leaves up toward the starry night sky. Even the vast constellations appeared brighter in these new parts. 

Madara walked a step or two in front as you strolled across the rocky terrain. You panted as you struggled up a steep incline. Madara hadn’t bothered to help you, instead moving along onto the level above. Small stones that littered the surface of the earth slid under your sandals.

“I am—” you huffed —“I am not as agile as I used to be.” 

Madara laughed somewhere above.

“You are in your prime. What is this talk of agility?” 

You pulled yourself up onto the dirt with the help of an exposed root. You fanned yourself, wiping the sweat off your brow as Madara chuckled somewhere in front of you.

“I meant that I no longer climb trees every day, Madara. Perhaps that is something you do, oh great clan head, but not I.” 

You turned to stand, suddenly struck by the view before you. Madara stood just ahead, holding up a branch with his forearm to expose the landscape. You hurried over, framing yourself in the window of leaves that Madara created. From up so high, you could see how the trees covered the land for miles, bisected by one of the Land of Fire’s many rivers in the distance. 

“Are you able to say if the new land pleases you?” You caught Madara’s eye for a split second, quickly averting your gaze at the sight of his sentimental expression, your aloneness suddenly growing palpable. You nodded.

“Moving the clan here was clever. Having the high ground and access to fresh water will only serve to be prosperous.” You offered him a gentle smile and a nod, glancing back at the scenery. “I know you will make a great clan head, Madara.”

“We will see about that,” Madara admitted in a rare moment of self-doubt. The confession made your forehead crinkle instantly. You cocked your head, taken aback. Madara sighed, almost as if reading your thoughts before you spoke them. “The elders— the remaining elders— believe that I am still quite young to be taking up the mantle. They still hold power when it comes to making decisions on behalf of the clan. At least, until they deem I have grown into my title as clan head.”

“Why make you leader at all if they are going to make such fuss?” you scoffed, knowing very well the answer. 

You sat down at the cliff's edge, watching the moon in the distance, and Madara came to sit next to you. He shifted, having more difficulty getting situated than you. The branch he had been holding up came down to smack him on the back of the head. 

“I have had similar thoughts.” Madara looked off with a troubled frown. “I worry for the future of the Uchiha. Our numbers dwindle with every battle. And with this last raid, the women will be forced to join the militia.” 

“Is this true?” you nearly exclaimed. You withdrew into yourself, brushing a finger across your bottom lip. The news rattled around in your ribcage. “How unorthodox!” 

Madara sneered, and it hardly took his admission of “I am against such things” for you 

to understand his stance on the matter. You let him grumble to himself, once again lost in a daze, as you took some of the dry dirt below between your fingers. 

“Madara,” you called softly, and he perked up with a hum. Between the chaos of the last few days, you were hardly allowed to give anything proper thought. Of all the terrible things to sink in, you only had one worry on your mind. “Do you believe I might be sent to fight the Senju?”

You stared into Madara’s eyes. Tobirama’s fearsome expression flashed across your mind as you recalled his promises to take your life. They made you shiver. 

“I would think not, given that you are acting as the lone apothecary of the Uchiha,” Madara answered, his voice deep and soft. “Besides, I forbid it.”

You didn’t know what to say as you let the bit of relief Madara’s words brought you to wash over your thoughts. Whether you intended it or not, you had made yourself invaluable to your clan. They weren’t about to put you on the front lines anytime soon. 

Madara spoke your name.

“Do you like it?” he asked. You weren’t paying attention again. You blinked to yourself, his deep voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Do I like what?”

“The new land, does it please you?”

“It is… not home,” you admitted. “But the landscape does please me, yes. I am certain it will be home soon enough.” Madara closed the space between you before gingerly placing two fingers under your chin. He turned your face toward him.

“I am clan head now.”

“Yes, Madara, I am aware.” You tried to subtly turn your chin away, but he held firm, boring into you with vigilant eyes. Nocturnal insects chattered in the forest behind you.

“No other bachelor in the Uchiha can provide better than I.” You had no other choice than to meet his dark gaze. He spoke to you earnestly. “Will you not reconsider marrying me?” A frown tugged at his lips. Worry swirled on his face.

“We are far too young, Madara.” You took his hand, gently removing it from your skin. You folded in on yourself, backing away from the edge as you bashfully gripped the fronts of your robes to dry your sweaty hands. Madara pivoted, leaning back to keep you in his sights, the moon’s slow, enshrining him in a silver silhouette. You curled into the earth. “Besides… too much has happened for us to think about such things.”

You could feel it: the urge to fight you on the tip of Madara’s tongue. Indeed, other Uchiha have married at your age and younger. Sometimes, young girls would be considered ready for marriage after their first menstrual cycle. But to your surprise, he didn’t fight you at all. Instead, he came to sit next to you. 

Madara could’ve fought you on several things. He hadn’t yet forgotten the mystery beau he was convinced was keeping your affections from him, nor was he thrilled that you had been named as the clan’s sole apothecary through a simple process of elimination.

You hadn’t forgotten his attempts to strongarm you into marriage or the terrifying outburst that caused you to run away. Although, with your parents gone, you were placed supremely in charge of your fate. Try as he must, not even Madara could force you into marriage. 

But when it came down to it, with your family dead and your lover disgusted by your bloodline, you were left again with Madara. That had been how it always was. Having lost so much during the clan conflict, you were always left with each other, weren’t you?

As you began to weep, Madara scooted backward to be with you. You leaned against him, placing your head on his shoulder as you continued to cry, holding his arm to bury your face into the sleeve of his robes—dark, round spots soaked into the fabric.

Madara held you in the dimness as the surrounding clearing filled with your sobs. It had been the first time you were allowed to cry. The first time you truly had to confront the regret that haunted you from the few days prior. For his capriciousness and overall little patience for sentiment, Madara nurtured your vulnerability. 

His fingers trailed lightly over your hair, rounding up stray strands behind your ear. He pressed his temple against the top of your head, caressing down your jaw to clear away the tears that slid down your cheeks with his thumb. Madara lifted your face, his second hand cupping the other side of your face as he continued to swipe away the wetness from your face. 

You held his wrists in your ginger grip, as he laid a tender kiss on your forehead. He gazed into your teary eyes in the moonlight, casting away another stream of tears as he offered a gentle kiss to your right cheek, and then your left. 

His nose nudged against yours, staring into your glassy eyes. You let them flutter shut, causing more droplets to splash against your face. Madara placed his lips on yours, holding the sides of your face as he kissed you with earnest. 

You kissed him back for a moment, only for a moment. The shape of his face was different than Tobirama in a way you couldn’t quite place your finger on. He had rounder cheeks. A longer bridge to his nose. Madara’s hair draped over his shoulders to tickle your skin.

You pulled away, just the slightest distance between your face and Madara’s before he leaned in again. You pushed against his chest, but his movements this time were more forceful. He held you firmly in his grip, his fingers pinching against your cheeks as he lowered himself on top of you, pinning you against the earth and his larger body. 

Your eyes went wide, the entirety of your body going frozen as Madara moved against yours, his once gentle motions now a gnashing of lips and teeth that made you press your head into the dirt. You tried to gasp his name in protest, but your words were muffled. His forearm rested to the right of your head, his breath hot against your skin as he smored your airways. His fingers tugged awkwardly at your hair, causing you to wince as he pulled the strands. You pushed on his chest again, kicking your legs under him, but Madara lowered more of his weight on top of you. 

A line of saliva connected the two of you when he finally ceased his assault on your lips. He gazed upon you with lidded eyes before he continued, tucking his head in the crook of your neck. You screamed as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, tears pouring from your wide eyes as you stared up at the pitch black night sky. Madara’s hand swiftly came over your mouth, to muffle the shrieks that tore from your throat.

You flailed violently, limbs lashing in adrenaline-fueled terror to no avail as Madara kept you pinned to the earth with his larger, heavier frame. And then you felt a hand dip into your robes, tugged the top material from your shoulders to grope at your chest. You cried harder, squealing like a pig at the slaughter as you finally managed to squirm an arm free.

You thrashed it around in a flurry of scratches and strikes. Your hand snagged on Madara’s face as you tried to scoot out from underneath him, causing him to shoot backward. Blood dripped from his nose, forming a nasty pool of red in tandem with the jagged gash that sliced diagonally across his upper lip. 

He looked at you in confusion and anger; blood streaked across his fingers. You scrambled to your feet, darting down the mountain and back to the new colony. 

You would never speak of that night again.

Madara dropped all speak of marriage.

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

Lots of fun author’s notes: I hated the pacing of this fic. It used to have really low notes in the early days so I think I got a little sloppy with it, and now it’s exploded out of nowhere! I hope this “retcon” fixes some of the plotholes!

I would like to think the teen years were made purposefully vague and dreamy so that the transition to the dark content is more impactful. Yes, yes we’ll say that!

I don’t always imagine what Reader looks like in my stories (I usually don’t) but this one I do! I usually picture Lupita Nyong'o. Not sure if that adds or takes away for any of you. Who I picture ultimately doesn’t matter

I’d also like to think the whole scene where Tobirama scares Reader off is like any movie where a protagonist has to scare off a loyal dog. Like, “Go on, boy! Git! You’re not welcome here! Git!” while like throwing rocks or something.

Also a reminder that I am not a smut author, so please withhold any thirst comments or requests. Thank you. 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

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Título:LOST

Personagens: Madara Uchiha e Tobirama Senju (MadaTobi)

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