#omega!madara

[ikemenomegas]

loss is a condition acquired to bury our pity

pairing: Uchiha Madara x Reader a/n: I should be working on something else, but it's like dragging rocks to do that one, and this one emerged somehow; title from the unnatural apologie of shadows; morning glories sometimes stand for short-lived love, yes red ones do exist c/w: omegaverse (alpha reader), grief turning into anger, nihilism, reader and madara both have post-warring states trauma, hints of characters experiencing war-crimes, madara's terrible plans, 18+ below the cut - reminder that alphas of all sexes have cocks

There is no kind love between you and he. Madara lays on his side, watching you wake slowly. He can feel the sun, low and heavy on the horizon.

It feels as he does, autumn reluctant.

He shifts on the futon, relishing the ache between his thighs and the sharper pain of new wounds on his body. He never knew how to love without a fight - brothers, father, friend, and now lover.

But his hands knew precision, they knew gentleness, they had known surrender.

He watched your chest rise and fall in a great sigh, your face turning towards him. With the red blush of dawn starting to peak through the window and splashing across your skin, you reminded him of asagao, morning glory, blooming with the dawn.

This was how you had met: the first two dark-eyed travelers awake in a dusty inn as far away from other people as you could get. He had been alone for too long, the day he had given into speaking with a stranger, seeking news from across the nations.

And then it had amused him to travel alongside you for awhile, as you were going the same direction as he was.

Until one day had stretched into two, and on into many, and you laughingly admitted to his late inquiry into your destination that you had none in mind. So you had been following one another, in an odd roundabout way.

It was the laugh that had done it, he recalls as you stir and wriggle beneath the covers, the heat of your body beginning to rise. It was bitter and biting, aching, like the empty places punched into his own heart.

He'd made you take him that evening, made himself open up to you like he had not done in years to anyone who was not an enemy. He had needed to, to find the right way to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was not kind. He knew you were capable of it. He had seen your hands too, precise, capable of gentleness, capable of surrender, capable of a fight.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"Does it matter, anymore?" you had asked, heavy and ironic, lighting the fire with a look that told him you knew he could do it as well and was shoving the duty onto someone else.

It was rather Uchiha of him, although you didn't know that. Fire was new life of all kinds. Maybe he should have given into this sooner. You've built one up more nights than he had on these near-nonexistent roads. In the old ways, it was one of many forms of courtship.

But he knew what you meant. Boundaries were shifting, alliances with it. Loyalty. You were clearly not one of those who bent yours easily.

But he needed to be sure.

"Not making one of the new villages your home then? I've heard they offer safety, negotiating power so we're not all used up against each other."

You gaze at him, long and wearied, as you stir a pot over the bright, flickering flames.

You don't fear exposure on the road, which tells him your are strong enough to do something about it. You are also clearly old enough to have survived many battles, which tells him more.

"It may be misguided of me, but I think you also know that the wars do not end so easily. Peace happens only too late, when both sides have lost too much. It won't last."

There again, that hopeful flicker of something familiar when you said It won't last.

"What will you do, when it starts again?"

You are quiet a long time, long enough for the soup to be done to your satisfaction, the game he caught so easily before this simmering and tender. You have salt carefully stored in a battered wooden container which you have sprinkled over it. The taste of it is, as always, divine.

Salt is still a coveted commodity, but he has seen you pay only with coin, never offering anything more valuable.

You ladle up a healthy portion for him and pass it over before serving yourself and expertly scraping the embers around the pit so the leftovers won't burn while you feed strips of dry wood to the live fire.

Your eyes flicker right to his and it's thrilling. No one wants to look an Uchiha in the eyes.

It feels like being in a time long ago, neither of you have given the other your family name all this time, as is shinobi custom. He wondered if you would look at him so dead on the same way if you knew what he was. He wondered if somehow you didn't know already. He wondered if you knew what it meant to share words and food like this across a living fire.

He cannot call the look in your eyes haunted. There must be some out-of-time out-of-place spirit inside for such a thing. This was the hole in his own heart, the place where regret and sorrow should live.

It blinked away when you found whatever you were looking for.

"Fight if I must, and die in whatever way I should."

It was an oddly unsatisfying answer.

"Why should you die?" he demanded.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "You're oddly inquisitive today. What will you do?"

He shrugged and smugly observed the irritated twitch of your eye.

It was all the opening he needed to goad you into further snipping at one another. It felt good, to feel the fire of another mind set against his.

Complaining of the repetitive movement of the road drew you to your feet and although only one person could match him blow for blow, it felt good to spar, to flex those muscles, to see the admiration in your eyes at the smoothness of his movements, to see the vital ferocity in yours.

He did not let you get him down in the dirt, only limited his power so that when he went down it was for real, but when you did, he kissed you, lips pressed full to yours.

You pulled back, full of surprise and questions. He glared at you, full of challenge and accusation until you glared right back and got to work seeing how far you could push him.

It was an alpha thing to do, but not done the way he knew most alphas did things. It was rough, but you were so in tune to every shift of his body, learning him.

It amused him to see you spread out a bedroll. The ground was soft sand and rough, but cushioning grass. It would not have bothered him to do this on the bare earth, but he felt a flash of affection as you ran a hand through his hair and undid the tie before laying him down again, combing out what dust had gathered in his thick, coarse hair, careful, never tugging hard enough for pain.

Tugging at your clothes irritated you. He knew this already because he'd seen the flash of ire as an irritable horse had caught your shoulder when bargaining with some farmer, and then the farmer's children had brushed too close and the reaction had been shinobi-muted, but you'd been in a terrible mood for hours.

He did it now because he refused to be the only one bared. You let him because you understood as much, and Madara relished the first warning nip of teeth against his collarbones as a certain galling heat in your scent spiked. You tugged your arms free of your sleeve with a defiant flash of movement, dragging your teeth over the same spot in a way that made him twist into you, hissing.

You pulled back, pausing. "I hate this world," you said. "It can be nothing but hateful when it has none of what I once loved or protected left in it."

"That is not what you want to tell me," Madara said, his breath hot on your ear as he bit the lobe. Your breath hitched in response.

The ties closing his coat had come apart easily but you could not bring your hands to go any further.

"How did you lose?"

"Slowly," Madara growled, yanking on your other sleeve and relishing the dark bleed into your eyes. "And too much."

"Did you watch it happen?" You shivered beneath his calloused hands, tracing over your shoulders and down, catching on the low edge of your sarashi when he skimmed your hip.

"Oh yes," he groaned as you leaned down and sucked a mark at the hollow of his throat. "I watched him die by inches, for days, while his mate fought to save him."

"Who was it?"

All at once it was too much and it was with an easy surge of strength that Madara flipped the two of you so he was leaning over you, teeth bared.

"Who was yours?"

Your hands were clasped with his, and you turned your head, pressed your lips to his fingers as you answered.

"They held me by my robes while they gutted her slowly, right in front of me. It was not fast enough."

You tilted your head to look at him and he saw that same detached absence in your eyes that he knew filled him whenever he spoke of his own last, worst loss. He was also certain that the full story of the event was worse than your abbreviated explanation.

He let you go slowly, untangling his fingers from the bunched fabric pulled down from your shoulders and pooling around your ribs on the bedroll. He sat back and you lifted yourself on an elbow.

He knew you were watching his hands when he shed his jacket. The high collar caught scent and held it close to his skin and he could see the way your pupils blew out as it released and wafted over you.

The scent of your own arousal pleased him. He'd been told before that he was handsome, and it was nice to be admired, thought beautiful.

There was no one else for miles and miles. Without shame, Madara reached down, slid his hand under his waistband and cupped himself. He was slicked-wet.

When he withdrew his hand, he caressed your cheek, felt how you shuddered and turned toward that concentrated portion of his essence.

You did not care that he smelled like blood and the sweet bite of rice grain alcohol. Maybe he would find more like you if he spoke to more people, but he had found you.

You tried to trade places with him once more, but he resisted you, his teeth bared and expression wild. You attempted to lean back and he snarled, deep and feral.

That sound called out to something in you, and you snarled back. He tugged on the exposed mesh armor that covered your chest and arms, and you made an ugly sound in the back of your throat.

"Take it off," Madara commanded.

And suddenly you were angry. He wanted so badly to see what the world had done to you?

He was alight with some kind of victory as you pulled the disarranged top over your head and extricated yourself from the mesh.

He finally did the same as you finished, pulling off his own thin layer, baring scars that spoke of survival.

You came together in a bruising collide, upright like wrestlers, nails scratching at one another as though to mark the moment as different from a state of blind existence.

It was a different kind of violence, but one that he thought perhaps he could get used to. He had already learned there was no replacing what was lost, but here was someone who understood as no one else had.

He pulled his pants off only enough to expose himself, impatient suddenly for something more. You bit his lip when he did the same to you, pulling at the ties on your pants until he could get your cock to spring free.

He was at such an angle where the tip immediately bumped up against his slick opening and the sensation surprised him, invigorated him.

But you were watching him ever so warily.

He moved his hand so that it was beneath him and shivered as he began stretching himself open, the slick sounds of his fingers in his own opening goading you into biting hard on his chest, your fingers digging into his shoulder blade hard enough to bruise.

His scent was a riot around you, heady and clean somehow. He did not smell like the sick, dead tang of a battlefield, but like new iron, ready for steel.

You licked a stripe up his sternum and he shivered, back arching.

His fingers were cooling and wet when he gripped onto your shoulder, nails grasping like claws. The flash of pain spurred you onward and you guided his hip with one hand and yourself with the other until you were pushing up and inside of his hot, wet heat.

The sharp spike in his scent, like the exhale of breath over a clear cup of rice wine, spilled over.

Madara ground down on you, pulling you deeper.

"It's all a farce," he murmured into your ear finally.

You were breathing hard against his chest, buried to the hilt inside of him. You didn't know if it had hurt, to take you all at once, but you knew if it had that he would not care.

"What is this reality worth?" He showed you for only a few seconds the type of pace he wanted you to set, and then urged you on, scoring a line of red marks over your ribs.

You bucked up into him, hitting deep places that put stars across his vision, better even than being dashed over the head or bled near dry.

He straddled your hips. Your legs were braced against the ground to give you more leverage. Yes, his intuition had never truly failed him, and he could feel the strength of your body pressed against his, inside of him.

If he were the type for children, you would have made a good enough sire.

You took him with a warrior's precision and knowledge that time was never on your side, but you also held him in your warrior's perception. He let himself shiver at the intensity of that focus.

You took advantage of the way every shift of his body made his insides tighten around you and heighten his own sensation. You played the remaining soft points on his body like an expert at the koto.

It had been so long since there was time for music, he had not thought to check your callouses for the kind of wire that didn't mean to draw blood and kill breath.

He should ask you to play, he decided as you dragged a shiver from him like a run from the instrument, your nails dragging a pattern across his back and down to his hips and thighs.

He came when you drew blood on him, your teeth digging hard enough into the muscle of his breast to mark him for days.

As ever, once the pulsing shocks had calmed enough to make him want it, he gave as good as he got and reared back, leveraging himself enough to bite down on your shoulder. Hard.

You bared your teeth, some of them outlined in his blood, but locked the roar away in your chest, well practiced in keeping essential silence.

You felt the force of Madara's will lock down against your own, pushing you towards your own completion. Because that wasn't just a retaliation bite, which would have been welcome and well-deserved.

That was an omega's bite, placed over a scent-gland with the intent to own.

Madara did not bite down in a normal way either, sinking his teeth in carefully to leave an elegant scar. He bit like you were enemies, twisting his head as he did, as if daring you to watch him, to stop him, to stop pressing up into him, coaxing his finish long.

It was a very, very old way to do things, a fire way to do things, in more ways that one. The Sarutobi had regimented ways of doing this, now, involving agreed upon combat, and a certain amount of posturing. Some of the other close-fire clans told old tales of mates courting by fighting, long and hard until someone gave in.

You placed your fingers in a loose ring on the nape of his neck, the only moment you would give him to change his mind. He could feel the swelling of your knot at his opening.

Uchiha Madara did not easily change his mind.

You bite was cleaner than his but broke the skin all the same, shredding down until you could taste him, blood and blood and that sharp fragrant note underneath of it.

You bucked up into him, harder, faster, abandoning the normal course of seduction, and lighting his nerves on fire instead of easing them.

He groaned, hard and euphoric, with blood still in his own mouth. Your knot, filling him full, pushed him back over the edge, easy enough, and he let it go, felt the pulse of it behind his eyes. He felt your warmth fill him and it felt right, satisfying. He had been his own fire for so long.

"Madara," you groaned in turn. You did not stop moving, even as he pulsed and fluttered around you, even though it must be causing you your own discomfort.

You laved your tongue over the mark you had left behind, which both eased the ache of it and made it sting as you disturbed the fresh wounds.

It was enough to remind him that all the pain in the world was just a moment, bright like sparks.

All will be as it should, better even, someday.

He had not quite meant to bond with you the first time, but it seemed fitting, after. You had stayed knotted within him long enough to send him into a third, near painful finish, and there were many more bites across both of your shoulders.

He touched one of those now, which had scarred fainter than the bondmark, but still showed evidence of that first, true encounter.

You started, suddenly perfectly alert, half-sitting. Alert to the world around him, around you.

"Wha'sit?"

He smirked a bit at the stumbling stiffness of your tongue. A low, rumbling purr coaxed out from him, filling the room. You spared a brief brush of awareness over him, which was wise of you, but otherwise flopped back down among the cushions.

He curled up against your back so that you own chest cavity was filled with the echoes of him, your senses vibrating with it.

It was not comforting and was not meant to be.

"It's today?" you asked, after you knew the words would not slur and your heartbeat was back to rock-steady.

"Mhm," Madara hummed through the purring.

It wasn't really the right answer. It could have been any day, but if you said so -- well, you had a sense for these things, a nose for disaster that he'd seen develop among some of his own clansmen.

You certainly had a nose for the restlessness that took him, that demanded satisfaction the way his heart had once demanded escape to the riverbank. And despite what Hashirama thought, he did plan their little competitions. Around his own whims, certainly, but they were not entirely random.

"I'll find you, after" he promised. The purring faded, but the warmth of sunlight filling the little room took its place.

It invigorated him, warmed his muscles. You were not so in tune with such things, but he felt the quiet flex and extension of your hands and feet and then your wrists and ankles as you shifted beneath the covers.

He leaned over you, pressing his lips to one of those old scars, fingers finding one of the new marks he left on you.

He will want a bath, before he goes. This is his. He's not interested in Hashirama accusing him of an accomplice. Although he of all people should forgive Madara of no longer being so alone.

You stroked over his knuckles, scarred and toughened with over two decades of battle. "You always do."

With him here, you could believe that the lonely, aching emptiness was just a dream.

With him, it was not kindness, not like the closer, comforting love he had observed between other mates, but you knew his dream, knew his loss and did not deny it.

He thought again of his plan, and looked forward to what would likely be the last time he met his once and only friend. He no longer had the Nine-tails but for a final feint he himself would be enough.

Just as this was. He would not be alone on the other side.

For now, that would be enough.

[nevsclowntown]

Day 3 of Founders Week: any Au!

Now I took the liberty of drawing about my founders omegaverse lol

Hashirama and Madara never really had a typical courting period (like Tobirama tries to have with Izuna if he wouldn’t keep snickering about his hilarious gift), but Hashirama did see something on the market once and gifted it to Madara. It’s not selfmade and it doesn’t seem like much, but there’s been a lot of thought behind it. 

Besides, Madara later returned the gesture, gifting something back.

And even later down the road, Hashirama founds the absolute best gift for a wedding proposal.

Don’t touch me, those idiots are hopelessly romantic and in love ♥

[fandom-susceptible]

Compressed timeline AU where the Hokages retire younger instead of mostly dying (Minato still kicks the bucket, sorry man, should have called Hashirama to deal with Kurama instead of trying to tackle it yourself) and you just have them wandering around the village when Naruto's growing up

Bonus points for Kakashi's mom being a Senju so he ends up adopted by Tobirama. Hashirama would have volunteered but he already has Tsunade and Yamato and Mito said they weren't taking any more.

Kagami Uchiha/Tobirama Senju is a thing and Madara's still pissed about it

Madara's homophobic repressed gay

Hashirama is a useless bisexual who's absolutely crushed that Madara "hates" him

Naruto and Sasuke had screaming matches at the academy about who was going to get to be taught by the Shodaime and were both *terribly* disappointed with Kakashi, until Kakashi took them to a family dinner and they realized Hashirama is very powerful but can't teach to save his life

Kagami used to be terrified of his cousin but by now he's just like *bitch, at least I had the guts to marry the guy who kicked my ass and made me fall in love with him, fuck off*

Tobirama and Madara fucking hate each other and will leave family dinners if the other is there

Sasuke fucking hates Tobirama and Kakashi by extension until Kagami sits him down and is like "Madara's an idiot let me tell you why" "he's our clan head!" "do I look like I give a fuck-"

Sakura low-key loves Tobirama's work but she pretends to hate him at first because Sasuke does. Tobirama never quite respects her for that but after the Character Development where she learns to do things for herself he might teach her a few things if Tsunade asks.

People still keep ripping off Tobirama's jutsu and forgetting he invented it and yes he's still salty about it

He and Orochimaru got along very well before Orochimaru left the village

Naruto was upset at first but later if Tobirama scolds Kakashi for reading Icha Icha when he's supposed to be teaching this 12 year old is 1000% ready to throw down with the Lord Second for being mildly disrespectful to Kakashi-sensei

Kakashi is mildly embarrassed. Tobirama is vaguely nonplussed. Kagami is laughing so hard he can't breathe.

Shisui still dies but Kagami finds out and grabs Itachi and he and Madara get a confession out of him and killing Danzou is the only thing Madara and Tobirama have ever agreed on. They hate it but Tobirama still tells Hashirama to shut up when Madara lights Danzou on fire. It goes a ways towards the younger Uchiha stopping calling him the White Demon of the Senju.

[amaranthinius]

Madara stares, piercing gaze following Tobirama's retreacting back. He smirks, a lopsided twist of his lips that reveals a lone white fang glinting.

"We are not done," Madara announces, follows Tobirama out of the office, leaving an improper distance between them. Tobirama's scent, almonds and cherries, changes with each passing second, blooms into something so sweet that his fangs ache, venom filling his mouth.

Tobirama turns, accepts Madara's improper hand on his waist, let's himself be guided into his office, turned and pushed into the closed door. Cardinal eyes widen, pupil eaten by the void until all that remains is a circle of color surrounded by almost immaculate white. He looks at Madara with a morbid fascination, a gaze so intense that Madara feels naked, all secrets left bare for Tobirama to uncover.

"What do you want?" He whispers, sounding breathless despite the soft air that caresses Madara's lips. He swallows, the gulping sound loud enough to attract Madara's gaze to his neck, as pale as the snow, unmarked, untouched. His gaze traces a tensed tendon and slides towards Tobirama's mating gland, another improper thing Madara shouldn't do.

"You are pretty," he says, a touch of wildness coloring his voice. When Madara looks up, the pleasant rumble of an alpha filling the air at the sight of reddening cheeks, Tobirama turns his head to the side, allowing Madara to drop his nose against his throat, inhaling the sweetening scent until his head starts to spin from the lack of air.

[okeutocalma]

Tobirama Senju[Male Reader].

A Propriedade Uchiha se "debruçava" em uma ampla terra coberta de neve que aos poucos se derretia e a grama verde aparecia. Eu nunca vi nada como aquilo; mesmo em nosso castelo.

O castelo estava coberto de rosas e hera, com pátios e varandas, e escadas se projetando das laterais , a propriedade era cercada por um bosque totalmente branco devido a neve que ainda se derretia, mas se estendia tão longe que eu mal conseguia ver o limite distante .

Finalmente cheguei ao Reino Uchiha para meu casamento com Indra, irmão do Madara…

Hashirama ofereceu minha mão aos Uchihas para um acordo de paz ...

• ━━━━━━❪❆❫━━━━━━ •

No preparo do salão.

Estava observando os criados arrumarem o salão para o baile, Indra estava lá ajudando e mostrando como e onde queria tal coisa.

Quando entrei ele dispensou os criados para arrumarem a comida e depois trazê-las e colocarem sobre a mesa,que agora estava cheia de tintas... Indra estava pintando os últimos detalhes das lembrancinhas.

Não sei o que aconteceu depois,mas em um momento estávamos conversando,acabei descobrindo que ele é virgem e depois ...

Indra afasta a boca da minha para respirar e eu começo a rir.

— O que foi? — pergunta arfando.

Aproximo-me dele e o seguro pela camiseta.

— Se não tivesse me beijado, eu teria mentido que faltou luz para ficar com você.—

A resposta dele é sorrir daquele jeito que faz meu coração querer saltar do peito, fazendo eu derrubar o pacotinho com bala que estou segurando e o puxo para meu colo e pegou em sua bunda tampada pela calça cara de uma forma que ele se arrepia.

Eu começo andar em direção a mesa com tintas ao mesmo tempo em que o beijo e no momento em que o deito na mesa, ele fica arrepiado, entrelaço os dedos seus cabelos macios e deixando o rosto dele próximo do meu.

— Quer mesmo fazer isso? —

Ele balança a cabeça em sinal afirmativo.

— Nunca estive tão seguro antes... A maior ironia é que no dia do casamento eu não consiga caminhar. —

Eu mordo meu lábio inferior e dou um passo para trás, me livrando da camiseta cara e do manto que estava sobre meus ombros.

Indra se senta na mesa, tira a camisa branca toda suja de tinta e desabotoa a calça, a tirando com brutalidade e jogando em qualquer lugar.

Gemo ao ver ele apenas com uma cueca (que está apertada nele) por baixo.

Lentamente, ele abaixou a cueca ao mesmo tempo e eu vejo que seu pau endurecendo. Indra é lindo. É malhado na medida certa e seus pelos são curtos e bem aparados, além da sua pele ser branca igual papel (pelo clima,sempre nuvens tampando o sol, e pelo tempo que ele passa no castelo).

Me aproximo dele e pego suas mãos o colocando entre as minhas fazendo carinho.

— Você sabe que a primeira vez dói, não é? —

Ele balança a cabeça em sinal afirmativo e o ouço suspirar.

— Vou fazer o possível para ser gentil.—

— Eu confio em você, Tobirama, como nunca confiei em alguém antes,tu és meu noivo e qualquer modo íamos fazer isso. —

Eu acabo sorrindo e me aproximo, o beijando e me inclinando até que ele esteja deitado na mesa com eu no meio das suas pernas.

Ele geme baixinho quando começo a beijar seu pescoço, dando mordidinhas e suaves lambidas em seguida.

Os cabelos macios dele fazem cócegas em meu queixo e seu

Eu vou deslizando a mão pelo seu corpo, a ponta de meus dedos fazendo sua pele se arrepiar. Eu paro ao chegar em seus mamilos sensíveis brincando com o polegar para só então abocanhar.

[...]

A sensação de ter a língua do Tobirama em um ponto tão sensível é divina e eu gemo quando ele me arranha com os dentes e apazigua a ardência em minha pele com lambidas, não esquecendo de fazer a mesma coisa com o outro mamilo.

Tinta encharcava meus cabelos, meus braços.Mas eu só conseguia pensar na boca do albino quando a língua dele acariciando meu mamilo.

O meu pau pulsa de uma forma dolorosa,mas ele não parece se importar com meus resmungos, pois continua a beijar meu corpo, mordendo ou dando alguns chupões, manchando minha pele branca , descendo cada vez mais. 

Dou um gemido quando ele lambe a cabecinha,meu corpo todo estremece com a nova sensação.

Depois Tobirama desvia propositalmente do meu pau passando para a parte interna das minhas coxas, me mordendo e excitando tanto que me vejo puxando seus cabelos brancos.

O albino ergue a cabeça e me olha, seus cabelos bagunçados e os lábios avermelhados sendo uma visão sexy. Ele sorri e seu olhar desceu por meu corpo exposto e eu me encolho.

— Eu sou branco igual um fantasma... Sou tão feio, não é? — pergunto baixinho.

— Você é perfeito — ele responde de um jeito que não deixa dúvidas. — Cada parte de você é belo. — 

Tobirama se moveu o suficiente para permitir que eu removesse, suas roupas caíram no chão com um ruído, revelando aquele lindo corpo, os músculos poderosos.

Ele me beijou, nossas línguas brigando pelo lugar que logo ele ganhou.

Tobirama se afastou de novo, e soltei um suspiro de protesto — que se abafou em um segundo quando ele segurou minhas pernas e me puxou para a beirada da mesa, em meio a tintas e pincéis (fazendo tudo cair no chão), e depois prendeu minhas pernas por cima dos ombros, para que se apoiassem uma de cada lado e olhou para meu ânus.

Em seguida, se ajoelhou diante de mim,segurei minhas pernas as deixando bem abertas .

Ajoelhou sobre aquelas tintas.

O primeiro toque da língua do Tobirama em meu ânus me incendiou.

— Quero que esteja deitado na mesa. — 

Ele grunhiu em aprovação diante de meu gemido.

Soltei minhas pernas a deixando ficar em volta de sua cabeça e me deitei...

Com uma das mãos prendendo meu quadril à mesa, o albino se dedicava a mim com carinhos longos. 

E quando sua língua deslizou para dentro de mim,estiquei a mão para agarrar a borda da mesa, para não cair e me perder no meio daquela sensação nova.

O filha da mãe lambeu, sugou e beijou meu buraco(o deixando bem molhado),ele se moveu até chegar ao meio de minhas pernas,foi exatamente quando os dedos tomaram o lugar,invadindo meu buraco e impulsionando-se para dentro de mim enquanto ele sugava meu pênis, com os dentes roçando muito de leve na cabecinha...

Arqueei o corpo, quando senti algo se formar no fundo do meu abdômen e logo uma sensação gostosa tomou conta do meu corpo, eu não conseguia respirar, meu corpo todo tremia.

De acordo com o que Izuna me falou, isso é chamado de clímax.

Oh,é tão bom~

Meu clímax me devastou, quebrando minha consciência em milhões de pedaços.

O senju continuou me chupando, não deixando meu pau mega sensível amolecer, e seus dedos ainda se moviam, parecia procurar algo...

— Tobi!~  — Gritei ao sentir ele acertar minha próstata e aquela sensação gostosa tomar conta de mim novamente,e de novo senti aquele calor no fundo do meu abdômen.

Agora. Eu o queria agora.De novo,acerta aquele local novamente.

Mas ele permaneceu de joelhos,se saboreando em mim, com aquela mão me prendendo à mesa e a outra maltratando meu buraco... (que izuna me fez limpar pois qualquer momento de acordo com ele,isso poderia acontecer).

Meu pau explodiu em um orgasmo demorado de novo. Tobirama engoliu tudo de novo.

E somente quando minhas pernas começaram a tremer,e eu comecei a chorar de tanto prazer quase soluçando.

Ele se levantou do chão.

O albino me olhou de cima para baixo com seus belos olhos vermelhos, nu, coberto de tinta, o rosto e o corpo do próprio Tobirama manchados com tinta,ele me deu um sorriso lento e satisfeito.

A boca do Tobirama encontrou a minha, o beijo foi intenso, uma "briga" pela dominância.

Eu entrelacei as pernas às costas dele.

Senti meu corpo esquentar quando ele roçou à minha entrada... Parou?

— Brinque depois — grunhi contra a boca dele.

Ele riu de uma forma que estremeceu meus ossos, fez meu pau se contrair,meu corpo esquentar mais e, depois, deslizou para dentro. E de novo. E de novo.

Estocadas antes lentas e gentis ficaram fortes e rápidas,a mesa se movia com brutalidade se batendo contra a parede,algumas coisas que não dei importância caíam.

Mal consegui respirar, mal consegui pensar algo a não ser nossas peles se chocando,fazendo um barulho excitante.

Os gemidos de Tobirama se misturam com os meus.

Agarrei seus ombros,fechei meus olhos e me segurei nele,como se minha vida dependesse disso, ele era minha bóia no meio desse mar de prazer.

— Você é meu~ — 

O albino ficou imóvel dentro de mim,eu soltei seus ombros e me deitei direto à mesa, e, então, abri os olhos e o vi me encarando.

— Diga de novo — murmurou Tobirama com a voz rouca que me arrepiou.

Eu sabia o que ele queria dizer.

— Você é meu — sussurrei.

Ele recuou levemente e, depois, mexeu o corpo de volta, devagar. Tão 

angustiantemente devagar.

— Você é meu — Declarei, murmurando.

De novo, Tobirama recuou e, depois, se impulsionou para frente.

De novo; mais rápido, mais profundo agora.

E eu senti ela acertar minha próstata,um grito rouco deixou minha garganta.

A cada estocada, o algo ficava mais nítido e mais claro e mais forte.

— Você é meu — Sussurrei, passando as mãos por seus cabelos, pelas costas, o sujando de tinta.

Ele era e agora é meu  amigo em meio a tantos perigos.

Meu noivo, que cuidou e me mostrou coisas novas.

Meu esposo, que esperava por mim,e agora está comigo.

Movi os quadris ao ritmo do albino. Ele me beijou de novo e de novo, meu rosto ficou molhado pelas lágrimas de prazer.

Cada centímetro meu queimava, e meu controle se perdeu completamente .

— Amo você.— 

Alívio irrompeu por meu corpo, e meu noivo se impulsionou contra mim, firme e rápido, atraindo meu prazer .

Tobirama gemeu quando alcançou o prazer, me penetrando até a base,uma pequena protuberância se destacou em meu abdômen , Tobirama acabou gozando dentro de mim,me enchendo até a borda .

A mesa tremeu, e escutei um barulho alto.

[...]

Eu sai de dentro dele e observei meu sêmen escorrer pelo seu buraco agora esticado.

Peguei ele em meus braços [estilo noivo] e a mesa caiu no chão ( ela estava com as duas pernas quebradas).

Indra apoiou sua cabeça em meu peito,sua respiração ficou lenta,olhei brevemente pra ele e vi que ele adormeceu.

Acho que eu não o machuquei... Mas o cansei... Era a primeira vez dele.

Ouvi as portas do salão se abrindo e a risada irritante de Izuna foi escutada .

— O QUE VOCÊS ARRUMARAM QUE DO NADA COMEÇARAM A TREPAR? NA SALA AO LADO O MADARA TÁ COMENDO O HASHIRAMA. —

Ainda rindo ele jogou seu manto em cima do Indra o cobrindo, Izuna fechou as portas do salão e saiu andando, escutei seu grito avisando os criados.

— NÃO ENTRA NO SALÃO 3A E NO SALÃO 2B, OS NOIVOS ESTÃO SE COMENDO E OS LÍDERES DO CLÃ SANJU E UCHIHA TAMBÉM ESTÃO.—

[kooriicolada]

Madara/Tobirama

Alpha/Beta/Omega - Alpha Madara, Omega Tobirama Warnings: Mentions of rape, being held in captivity

A little snippet for a long oneshot I’m working on and hope to post this month. <3

Tobirama was exhausted.  He'd been in and out of pre-heat and heat for the better part of— however long he'd been here.  As woozy as he felt he honestly couldn't tell how long he'd been held captive.  There was nothing but the rise and fall of heat and want and the scent of himself.  At least these assholes let him clean himself up occasionally and no one had tried to force themselves on him.

What they could possibly want he had no idea, and why they were keeping him stuck in some eternal heat—

He'd never really cursed his secondary gender before, but he very much was now.

If only he could gather enough energy through the constant exhaustion!  He'd rip their throats out one by one.  Likely with his actual teeth.

And then the heavy stone door opened and, instead of bringing him more food or water, someone threw a heavy body into the room.  The person landed with a thud and what sounded like their skull hitting the floor.  Alarmed, Tobirama pressed himself against the back wall of his cell.  The stone of the wall was chilly against his overheated, oversensitive skin.  It sent a shiver through him and goosebumps prickled all over his body.  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he gave voice to a warning growl.

The door closed as quickly as it had been opened.  At least they hadn't activated the seals in the room…though that probably meant they thought him too weak to be worth worrying over at this point.  That stung his pride even as he considered the usefulness of being underestimated.

He wished he knew what their goal was, other than trying to drive him insane through lust.  Though maybe that was the goal, he thought, mind slipping sideways.  Focusing was so difficult.  Maybe they were trying to weaken him to gain information?

Right.  The person in his cell.  He tipped his head, inhaling, but all he could smell was himself.  The scent of omega in heat.  Curling his lip in an irritated sneer, Tobirama forced himself to push away from the wall.  The very idea of clambering to his feet and trying to stagger across the distance felt impossible, so he said a weak goodbye to the remainder of his pride and crawled across the floor.  At least it was smooth and didn't really bite into the skin of his knees and palms.  Smooth, he knew, except for the lines of the seals carved into it.  Whoever these people were, they had a sealmaster on par with some of the Uzumaki Tobirama knew.

His hand hit something soft and voluminous— hair, he realized after a second.  It was so dark it blended in with the thick shadows, not to mention Tobirama's naturally poor eyesight.  He patted along until he felt the curve of a skull, and then found his new cellmate's neck.  It didn't take long to find a pulse which was good but… Tobirama lifted his hand, inhaling to catch a scent off his fingers.

Hell.  They were an alpha and one verging on a rut.  An alpha that was equally as naked as he was.  The thought made Tobirama both scowl and shiver.  What were they hoping for?  That this alpha would rape him?  Tear him to pieces?  Was there a reason at all?  Was this their only cell?  Was it simply circumstance or?

No time to try and think about this right now.

He scooted back to the thin futon and retrieved the equally threadbare blanket.  It would mean he didn't have anything to cover himself with, but on the off chance that this alpha was the type that would take advantage of a convenient omega…

Tobirama tore the blanket into strips, the effort making his muscles quiver.  Sweat ran down his neck, pooling on his collarbones as if he'd been training for an hour.   He tied the alpha's arms together behind his back, looping it through his fingers to keep them separate enough that he wouldn't be able to form hand signs.

When he was finished, Tobirama forced strength he really didn't have into his arms and shoved the alpha up onto his side.  If he was a helpful alpha, he didn't want him to choke on his own vomit if he happened to throw up.  It was as he leaned in close and pulled the alpha's head into a better position that he was near enough to really make out his facial features.

And that was when he realized who it was.  Uchiha Fucking Madara.

"Fuck," he growled.  

What the fuck.

Tobirama scrambled back to the far wall and settled on top of the futon.  With his back to the wall he stared, hardly wanting to blink, at the Uchiha across the room from him.

Fuck.

[illogicals-blog]

What's that? I can't hear you over the p0rn.

I'm not sorry.

[23raccoons]

Summary:

Candy floss hair, messily tied in a bun atop her head, pieces falling around her face, and downcast eyes. Pale skin splotchy, blotchy, patches of red across her cheeks and nose, face puffy. A handful of tissues balled in one shaky fist. The very top of a scent patch peeking out from where her hood bunches at her neck. She shuffles, nervously, to Hashirama’s side.

Beside him Shisui lowers his pistol, the others stiffen. Madara can’t smell her, scent patch daming her pheromones, but he knows, just as he knows his love for his dying brother, and his hatred for Tobirmara, what she is.

Omega.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Suicide Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Madara, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Izuna,  Additional Tags: Suicide, Graphic descriptions of injury, Medical Inaccuracies, medical gore, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Dubious Consent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Hurt No Comfort

Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

-Shakespeare romeo & juliet

friday 10:36 pm

The rain comes down a torrential downpour, hard and heavy. Tobirama is holding Sakura upright, gripping her upper arms, trying to shake her from her shock. One hand is still holding the pistol, the metal warm against her rain shilled skin. Sirens sound in the distance. Tobirama shakes her again. She tries to focus through the dazes she’s floating in.

“Go home.” He commands her, lips and teeth crashing against hers, like he would devour her if he could. “Run. As fast as you can. Pretend you were never here.”

He removes his jacket, throwing it around her shoulders. She takes off, rain swallowing her whole.

saturday 12:05 am

Rain patters against the window of the small dim hospital room, apathetic to Madara’s melancholy. He sits, sentry, in a small folding chair, over his sleeping brother. Elbows on knees, he rests his face in his palms. One leg is bouncing, he cannot get it to stop. Wires and tubes attach quietly beeping and whirring machines to Izuna, his beloved little brother, supporting his life force. The doctors say there is nothing else they can do, but wait, cranking up the morphine drip. He will be gone before morning.

“We have neither the healers nor technology to do more than ease his passage,” the old doctor tells him, a hand on his shoulder. “It would take a miracle even at a top hospital, with a fully trained healing staff, to save him.”

The Uchiha clan is dying. Running out of funds. Running out of alphas. Running out of time. Cursed. The hospital is barely operating. An ER bay. An operating room. One floor of less than twenty patient rooms, manned by two doctors and a handful of nurses. Everything is outdated, old technology strung together by the janitor, an attempt to make the equipment to last as long as possible.

Senju Tobirama will die at dawn.

A vibration in his pocket, alerts him to yet another message rolling in. Madara’s been ignoring them for hours now, Obito stands guard outside, he will let him know of anything of real importance. He wipes his checks, removing traces of fallen tears. Izuna is in agony, a slow, painful death, coming in and out of conscience.

“I swear to you little brother,” he whispers, leaning forward to place a kiss on the other man’s forehead. “I will kill Tobirama. I would kill every last Senju, to avenge you. And if I fail, we will be meeting again, sooner, rather than later. Goodbye, my brother”

Leaning back in his uncomfortable hard plastic seat, Madara closes his eyes. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. One of the beta nurses–perhaps the one Itachi is dating, if he were in the mood to care– comes in to check on vitals and bandages.

“They need changed again,” she explains, softly. Madara nods, he’s not too familiar with the medicinal arts, but even he knows it’s not a favorable omen, Izuna blood seeping out from the bandages to pool on the threadbare sheets of the hospital bed. He steps out into the hall, sliding the large glass panel back into place.

Inside the room, the metallic, copper tang of Izuna’s blood overpowered the usual hospital smells, but out in the hallway, air purifiers whirring, it mostly just smells of chemical disinfectant. Obito greets him with a frown and a nod, not meeting his eyes. Obito is odd, at best, but his loyalty to Madara is unwavering, a perfect guard dog. He ignores the younger man, choosing to busy himself with a styrofoam cup of low-quality coffee that only ever seems to be found in hospitals.

“Madara,” Obito half shouts, to get his attention. Madara spins, had Izuna taken a turn for the worse in the few steps to the coffee station? The room door is still slid shut, Obito’s on the phone, one hand over the mouthpiece as he’s shouting.

“Mada-” Obito is shushed by several of the betas sitting at the nurses station. He hands the phone out, “It’s Itachi.”

Madara slowly slides the phone up to his ear, this better be fuckin good, calling at a time like this. “Talk.”

“It’s the Senju,” Itachi ever straight to the point, keyboard clicking in the background. He’s set up surveillance in the tiny security office of the hospital. “One car, approaching the hospital. It’s Senju Hashirama’s personal vehicle.”

Fucking Hashirama, always meddling where he doesn’t belong. A soft hearted alpha, coming to beg Madara to spare his own brother. The time for peace is passing, with each of Inuza’s shaky breathes, as he inches closer to death.

“Come,” he barks at Obito. The two men take the rickety elevator down to the entrance floor, it clanks and clunks and grinds, the Uchiha have little to fund the hospital, and elevator maintenance does not appear to be high on the budget’s priority list. Itachi, lightly weezing, from his jog from the dark hole of the hospital's security office, joins them in the lobby. Sasuke and Shisui hovering near the front door, one standing guard, the other with his face pressed up against the glass, squinting out into the darkness. Full tactical gear. Ammored. Weaponed.

Here, in this hospital, are the last five alphas of the Uchiha clan. Izuna, dying upstairs. Itachi’s no better, the disease rotting his lungs leaves him winded at a flight of stairs. Obito swallows down suppressants like they’re candy, pretending, that he is nothing more than a beta. Sasuke's too hot-tempered, too young, too green behind the ears. Barely more than a pup, Sasuke had been the last alpha born into the pack, nearing two decades ago. Never an omega, not since long before Madara’s time. A curse on their family, handed down from generation to generation. (Shisui is a beta, but fuck is he fast. Quicker than most alphas.)

Cursed with hate. Doomed to fail. Packs are best held together, when centered around an omega. Someone who nurtures, and cherishes, and loves. Calming. Appeasing. An alpha wants nothing more than an omega of his own, to protect, to hold, to knot, bear and raise his pups. Alpha-alpha and alpha-beta couples can produce either alphas and betas, while beta-beta couples typically will only produce betas. Omegas come only from alpha-omega parentage.

And omegas, unfortunately, tend to not survive the curse of the Uchiha clan.

friday 10:34pm

Tobirama's hand wraps around Sakura’s throat. Frowning, he uses the barrel of the gun to brush a lock of hair out off her forehead. Her shaking hands twist into the front of his shirt.

“Tobirama, please,” she begs him, tears tributaries to the rain running down her face, panicked. “Please, I didn’t know, you have to believe me. I would never do that to you, alpha. Never”

He shushes her. His hand moves back, gripping her by the hair to tilt her head, exposing the smooth column of her throat. He leans in nosing her scent gland, breathing deeply.

“Of course you didn’t know,” He coos, mouth skimming her neck. “Silly little omegas have no need to know things. They just need to do what their alpha’s tell them, isn’t that right?”

He used his grasp on her hair to nod her head up and down in agreement. Teeth scrape over her sensitive scent glands, the threat looming between them. A bite, following an alpha fight, would likely send her canvaulting into a heat. A whine escapes her high pitched and needy. Everything feels distant, like a dream. Or a nightmare.

saturday 12:17 am

The doors whoosh open and the group follows him outside. A car splashing through the parking lot, seeking shelter from the downpour in the light of the overhang of the entrance. Madara blinks, activating the Sharingan and time slows. Lighting flashes, illuminating looming jagged buildings, like the city's teeth. The rain dampens the streetlights, leaving everything outside the carport inky and dark.

Four figures emerge, leaving a smaller one- a child perhaps- sitting in the backseat of the sedan, safe behind bulletproof glass. Two men wrestle a third to his knees, muzzled, hands cuffed behind his back and ankles shackled, binding wrists to ankles. The fourth, strides towards Madara, pulling a leather glove off.

“Madara,” he says, stretching out a hand as he walks. Madara’s hand moves over his holster. Shisui has his pistol pulled, a true quick-draw at heart, aimed at the approaching man. He slows, holding both hands up a gesture of surrender.

“I come for peace, old friend,” Senju Hashirama states, frowning. He looks disheveled, hair unbound, the top buttons of his white collared shirt are undone, tie long gone. Sleeves roughly pushed up, exposing his forearms. Dress pants, oxford shoes. A gun in his shoulder holster.

“Peace,” Madara spits. “You come for peace, while my brother dies above us? I will know no peace until Tobirama is dead. I will kill every Senju who dares try and stop me.”

“If your brother lives now, there is hope for him yet,” he says it like an old proverb, words of wisdom. But Izuna is not a Senju, meant to survive and thrive, he is an Uchiha, damned for life.

“I care not for your adages Senju. Why are you here?”

“I believe we can come to an agreement, I wish not to start another war with the Uchihas.”

Madara wants no part in an agreement, unless it's one that will cause Tobirama to suffer the same pain he endured. The same pain Izuna suffers.

“Will you agree to the death of your own brother?”

Hashirama pauses, mulling over his thoughts to find the right words.

“Perhaps, we would be able to find someone’s whose life you would find comparable to my dearest brothers?”

The chained figure, lunges, as best he can, snarling under his mask. He’s pulled back to place by the other two Senju’s. Tobirama, strapped and chained. Delivered to Madara’s front door.

“Hush,” Hashirama commands the still struggling to escape Tobirama, he collapses under the weight of his superior alpha. “This whole mess is your fault to begin with.”

Tobirama and Izuna, hot tempered both of them, had encountered each other in the parking lot outside a popular restaurant in Downtown Kohana. One offense, leads to another, and the two were brawling. Fists and teeth and fury. The details are blurry- witnesses few and far between in the rain storm. Tobirama wins the quarrel, rising to fire five shots into the fallen man.

“No one is worth your brother in my eyes, unless you’re offering to take his place, Senju.”

“Ah,” Hashirama says, a little to pleased, in just the way Madara, eyes narrowing, knows he’s been tricked. “So you would be open for agreement?”

“You. Or him.” Madara states firmly.

“What if, old friend,” Hashirama smiles, “there is another option? Someone willing to take Tobirama’s place?”

Blood is being shed now, as it will after this conversation is over, slowly leaking out of Izuna. There is no one else to vindicate the death of his brother. No one to right this wrong. Even the death of Tobirama doesn’t feel like it would fill the hole in his heart. The blackness slowly creeping over his mind and soul.

“Although, you may choose to keep this one alive, old friend. A life for a life, per say.” Madara is not in the mood for Hashirama’s games.

Hashirama motions, and one of the standing Senjus opens the back door of the car, extending a hand to aid the last person out. Tobirama is struggling again, but Hashirama leaves him be this time. A hand, manicured and polished, emerges first. Pink, almond shaped nails. A girl, in sneakers and leggings and a too-big Kohana University hoodie, topped with an oversized rain jacket.

Candy floss hair, messilly tied in a bun atop her head, pieces falling around her face, and downcast eyes. Pale skin splotchy, blotchy, patches of red across her cheeks and nose, face puffy. A handful of tissues balled in one shaky fist. The very top of a scent patch peeking out from where her hood bunches at her neck. She shuffles, nervously, to Hashirama’s side.

Beside him Shisui lowers his pistol, the others stiffen. Madara can’t smell her, scent patch daming her pheromones, but he knows, just as he knows his love for his dying brother, and his hatred for Tobirmara, what she is.

Omega.

“This is Senju Sakura,” Hashirama introduces, a hand on the girls back, “she’s a very talented healer and-“

“You dare mock me in such a way,” Madara scowls, enraged, at insult upon insult, “interrupting my vigil, my brother's death, with the insult of a peace offering? A healer? An omega one at that?!”

Madara’s half yelling, half growling. Words echoing off the concrete ceiling. The omega shrinks into herself, knees unsteady underneath her body, at the aura of his anger, the pheromones of a furious alpha. Hashirama has to grip her elbow, to keep her on her feet.

“Not just any healer,” Hashirama clarifies. “And not just any omega.”

Madara raises an eyebrow with his seriously dwindling patience. Hashirama gently nudges the girl forward, into the space between the once-friends. As she moves, unsteady feet, one foot in front of the other, Tobirama pulls and pulls, until one of the chains gives with a snap.

“SUBMIT, TOBIRAMA!” Hashirama has finally lost its patience. The force of the command has Tobirama back on his knees. Forehead kissing the concrete. Strong enough to bring beta Shisui to a kneel. Sasuke has one arm around Itachi, who’s shaken.

The little omega has not fared well at the order either. Sprawled out belly down on the pavement, limp and breathing heavily, one hand outstretched towards Madara’s heavy boot. Hashirama is watching him, he can feel it, as he squats to inspect the fallen girl. The men behind him tense, wary of the girl, or Madara’s every growing hostility. She has somewhat piqued Madara’s curiosity. What has Tobirama so concerned for her?

Tobirama is a notorious playboy, dating women after women. Often caught by paparazzis outside high end gentalmen’s clubs and expensive whorehouses. Never one to be tied down. He had probably fucked more omegas than Madara had ever met, living in the slums on the outskirts of Kohana’s walls.

“If this is a trick-” Madara starts.

“No tricks.” Hashirama promises. “Sakura attended The Lady Katsuyu Academy, learning the healing arts. Top of her class, an exceptional student. A remarkable talent really.”

The omega, Sakura, scrambles back to sitting, putting some distance between herself and a raging alpha. One quivering hand curls in the neckline of her hoodie. A mediocre attempt at protecting soft flesh from snapping jaws. She’s a pretty thing. Thick pink hair looks soft to the touch, a slight urge to wrap his fingers in it and pull her in for closer inspection. Jade eyes wide, watery tears, seem to glow against puffy red skin. No make-up, a galaxy of freckles dot her cheeks and nose. Checks still just slightly rounded with baby fat, she’s young, likey younger than Sasuke. A purple diamond adorns the center of her forehead, the mark of a master healer.

Madara has never been close to a young omega such as this, usually rutting in local brothels with older more experienced omegas, as the time between awakening and first heat is often dangerous for those left unprotected. After perfuming, they’re kept under careful supervision, always chaperoned. Upper society, high class omegas, will often debutante, for wealthy alphas and packs to bid on to mate.

The hand not grasping at her throat is bleeding. Scraped across the pavement in her fall, blood drips off her palm. She cups it close, and it starts to glow, reminiscent of the cyan neon lights of the city. He can see the way her chakra flows through her body, pooling in eddies around the injury.

“Show him,” Hashirama suggests, a careful eye on the situation playing out. She obeys tipping the heel of her injured hand up, finders down, exposing the torn flesh of her palm, stretching her arm out.

Madara leans forward, one hand touches the ground to keep his balance, reaching for the glowing hand with his own. Healing is a dying skill, few are able to master, a long and difficult journey. It’s rare for a healer, especially one that’s not born into a healing clan, to manage much more than cuts and scrapes and bruises. The glow is cool, soothing, steady. Perhaps, if Madara wasn’t so enraged at the moment, it would have a calming quality.

Hashirama talks, as she heals herself, “Earlier today, Sakura accepted her highest bid price, a mate proposal. The omega-price includes among other things, a large house in a nice neighborhood on Kohana’s Upperside, a reasonable vehicle-a small suv- for the omega to use, a substantial college fund, and a moderate allowance.”

The cut on the omega’s hand heals quickly, skin neatly zipping itself back together, Her control is impressive, no chakra lost in the healing process.

“While Sakura’s omega-price will be donated to the Uchiha clan as a dowry. And the Institution will be paid for their silence on the matter.”

Odd, for the Senju to be so amiable on the matter. While not being much to Hashirama, practically king of this town, the small fortune the omega is worth is enough to give Madara pause. It’s a bribe, to further tempt Madara into accepting the girl. He lets go of her hand, to grab her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. His thumb brushes over her plush bottom lip.

“Who’s bid was it, omega?” he demands to know, pulling her face closer to his own. Emerald meets crismon, sharingan searching her eyes for signs of truth. Her mouth parts slightly, he can feel her warm breath against his thumb. His pinky slides down her neck, rubbing where the scent patch adheres to skin. She’s trembling in his grasp. A very dangerous place for her to be, all things considered.

“Senju Tobirama,” A whisper, lips kissing his thumb as she speaks. He spits. She flinches in his grasp as it hits her cheek.

“Do not speak his name again.” Not given with an alpha command, but it’s meant to be obeyed nonetheless. She nods, unable to form words. He lets go of her, wiping his hand on his shirt in an act of mock disgust.

He stands, facing Hashirama. “If you intend to deceive me, Senju-”

“Please,” Hashirama begs, “Take the girl. Bring her to your brother. If she cannot help him, she surely can give you something to help ease the pain of his passing. I wish not to start a war.”

“If you are lying to me, Senju Hashirama, I’ll kill you myself.”

Tobirama is fighting against his chains again, as they load him into the car. Hashirama joins him in the back seat and the car pulls off, vanishing into the rain. Shisui is helping the omega to her feet, Itachi hovering over, offering her his cleanest handkerchief.

“Move out,” he barks, stomping his way back inside. Shisui guides the girl, with a hand on her back. To the elevators. All cram into the metal machine, it thunks and whines, as it brings them up. Sakura presses close to the door, covering her nose with her jacket sleeve, overwhelmed at the number of alphas sardined in the lift. She sucks in deep breathes, of the chemically freshen air when the doors slide open.

Madara directs her into Izuna’s room. Itachi stays in the hall, lingering by the nurses station. The other Uchiha’s hover, half in, half out of the hall.

friday 10:32 pm

one

two

three

four

five

Shots fired into the struggling body. Her ears ring. He falls limp, to the ground. Sakura screams, covering her mouth with a shaky hand. And now the guns trained on her. Tobirama watching over the barrel with narrowed eyes.

“Did you know him? The truth. Now.” he orders. Sakura sways in her spot, feeling like she’s going to be sick. Lie, she thinks. Lie, lie, lie. She shakes her head no, and Tobirama must not think this a good enough answer. He stands close, holding the gun to her temple. She swallows.

“One more chance, little omega,” he sneers. “A simple one, easy enough for even your little brain to understand. Did you know him?”

A little more of the truth, to make the lie more believable.

“I-I saw him around campus, nothing more. Tobi, you-you have to believe me, please.” She’s hiccupping and sobbing, stammering her way through the words.

saturday 12:38 am

Sakura rushes to Izuna’s bedside, shrugging off her jacket and throwing it haphazardly across the chair. Her hoodie follows, leaving her in a tight white tank top. She pauses, hands hovering over Izuna’s chest. He is covered in sweat, muscles tense, face scrunched in pain.

“May I touch him?” She asks Madara, who stands on the opposite side of the bed, feet spread, arms crossed. He dips his head in approval, and she begins.

One hand on his forehead, one on his chest. Head bowed, eyes closed. She begins to circulate electric blue chakra throughout Izuna’s body. Almost immediately, he relaxes, settling into the bed.

“You may hold his hand if you’d like,” she suggests softly, after several minutes. “Give him something to ground himself to this world by.”

Madara heeds her advice, taking Izuna’s hand between his own. Obito fetches him a folding chair, and stands guard by the door. Madara watches her work, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. The machines calm as she works. Slowing from frenzied beeps, into a steady rhythm. Chakra coils, pooling in the most vital areas. She stands like this, for the better part of an hour, occasionally shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

In the dim hospital room, the red and blue lights of the machines glow. Like the neon bar signs lighting up downtown Kohana on this stormy night. Like the flashing lights of the cop cars when he had pulled up on the scene. He blinks, until he is back in the hospital, instead of watching them load his brother into the ambulance.

friday 10:31 pm

Tobirama is on top of the other alpha, pinning him down. His fist slams down on Izuna’s head again and again. Sakura’s trying to pull him off, yelling that someone has called the cops. He lets her pull him off, letting her help him to his feet. She’s moving him away from Izuna, who’s struggling to roll over and get back on his feet.

He unholsters his pistol, twisting to aim at the other alpha.

saturday 1:42 am

“You, by the door, fetch a nurse please,” the girl gives the order in a manner of something who’s used to being obeyed. Obito looks to Madara for approval, before sliding open the door and passing the message to Itachi.

Izumi enters within moments, squeezing through the group at the door, nervously approaching the end of the bed. She introduces herself, “Nurse Uchiha, at your service.”

“An instrument table, please, Nurse Uchiha.” Sakura requests.

“Yes, ma’am.” Izumi nods and shoos the peanut gallery back out of the door. She returns, moments later, with a metal rolling tray, situating it next to Sakura.

“Thank you. Fresh sheets next please, Nurse Uchiha. Pillows and blankets. Oh, and ice water.”

Sakura pulls out, one by one, all the invasive tubing and wires attached to Izuna. Dumping them onto the tray. She leaves the iv tube attached to his chest, the oxygen tube under his nose, and the monitor beeping in sync with his heartbeat. Izumi returns, a mountain of linens in arm. Sakura instructs her in piling them around the bed, intending to roll Izuna onto his side. She takes several large swallows of water, out of the straw of the cup Izumi is holding, wiping what spilled off on her shoulder.

“You’ll have to help us.” She tells Madara. She really is a bossy thing. “One hand here, and one here, we’ll move on three, to turn him towards you.”

As per Sakura’s orders, she has one hand behind Izuna’s head and one slipped under his back. Across the bed, Madara has one hand on Izuna’s shoulder and one on his hip. Izumi by his legs, on Sakura’s side.

“Gently now. One, two, three.”

They roll Izuna, up towards Madara, up on his side. She does most of the work, rolling Izuna’s much heavier body, Madara mostly just helps to balance him. Sakura directs Izumi to tuck pillows to prop him up and place waterproof pads over the blood pooled sheets. Madara holds back a gag at the sight of a dented skull, cracked chipping bone sticking out of a tear in Izuna’s scalp. Sakura quickly has the spot hidden with a glowing hand. The other leaving Izuna’s chest for a few small adjustments of the bedding.

Madara distracts himself from the gore, examining the careful folds of the blankets at the foot of the bed. If he didn’t know any better he would say it’s almost like some depraved, vile nest, blood soaked, scratchy hospital linens. Sakura toes off her shoes, and gets another drink of water. Surely, she doesn’t mean to get in the bed with Izuna.

She does, in fact, mean to get in the bed, clambering awkwardly over the railing and pillow piles, one hand on his brother at all times. She curls up behind his back, like two spoons slotted together. Forehead pressed into the space where the back of his neck meets his shoulders. The other hand returns to the middle of his back.

The omega’s eyes close. The pair settle, falling into a steady pattern of breathing. Madara sits down in his chair, covering Izuna’s hand with his own. The blue glow intensifies, a low vibration rolls through. It’s not his phone this time, instead reverberating through Izuna. It takes Madara a moment or so to realize the little omega is purring.

Omega’s typically purr when happy, safe, content. To ease ruffled alphas and soothe crying babies. In the safety of their nests, piled high with fluffy pillows and soft blankets and heavy quilts. Not while sharing a hospital bed, covered in the blood of the alpha their betrothed had beaten nearly to death, plugging up oozing bullet holes. And yet, here this one is, purring like there's nowhere else she’d rather be.

friday 10:20 pm

Izuna waits in the parking lot, invisible under the tint of his windows, scrolling social media. Rain patters on the windows, dampening the noise outside. Tobirama escorts his soon-to-be bride across the parking lot, playing the part of a happy couple. He’s holding an umbrella, shielding her from the rain, and any prying eyes trying to sneak a peak of her.

Izuna catches, just a glimpse, as Tobirama shuts her in the passenger seat. He pulls the handle of his own door. Stepping out in the rain.

saturday 5:26 am

The doctor rounds to check on Izuna, tucked in the gruesome makeshift nest with the omega healer, for nearing four hours now. Madara follows the doctor into the hall, sliding the door shut behind him.

“Will it work?” Madara asked the doctor. Izuna nearing his life expectancy with the warm hues of sunrise dancing on the walls. The doctor sighs.

“It’s hard to tell. The omega is doing a lot of intricate, delicate work, to heal the worst of the damage. I’ve never seen anything like it. Likely, she is still all that is keeping him alive at this point, but she cannot keep healing forever, she will run out of chakra eventually. I do not know if it will be enough to save him.”

Madara nods, he had been afraid of that. He thanks the doctor, and enters the room next to Izuna’s. The pack has set up some in here, having moved Itachi’s equipment up from the security room.

Sasuke, Shisui, and Obito rotate between standing outside the door, and prowling the halls. Itachi rests on one of the hospital beds, watching security feeds on his tablet.

Madara slumps across the other, exhausted. Itachi’s raises, to hand Madara a thick stack of papers. Information gathered on the girl.

Haruno Sakura had been born to a distant branch of the Senju family. A student with promising skills, the Senju sponsored both her time at the Katsuyu Omega Academy and her current schooling at the university. She had received several bids, all vetted by the Omega Institution, Tobirama’s offer signed and dated, time stamped just past four o'clock yesterday afternoon. Nothing unordinary.

Among the papers, a print out of one of her social media posts. Geotagged at a pizzeria popular with the college crowd. Timestamped just past eight the night before. A small hand holding a seltzer, tapping together with a ice filled lowball glass in a much more masculine hand, over partially eaten pizza pie. No faces or bodies. The smaller hand, tipped with a pink manicure, tilts the can just-right for the light to catch on the small diamond ring on her fourth finger.

friday 10:22 pm

“Senju Tobirama,” Izuna calls through the rain. The other man stops in his tracks.

It will be Tobirama or him. A fight to the death. If he cannot have her, he wishes not for this world any longer.

friday 3:15

Tobirama stops by Sakura’s little apartment unexpectedly. He can smell it the moment she opens the door. She’s perfumed. Light and sweet, he can taste it on his tongue. He steps inside her apartment, wrapping his arms around her.

“We will go now, to the Omega institute to fill out your paperwork. We’ll stay in your new nest tonight, together.”

She’s shaking, crying, he takes it for nervousness. An omega’s first heat can be a difficult time for them. He pets her hair gently. “Don’t worry, my sweet omega, I’ll take care of you. I’ll even take you out to eat tonight, at that little pizza place you like so much, so celebrate.”

saturday 5:47 am

Madara reenters Izuna’s room, Sakura is awake, purring and crying. He takes his seat, and his brother's hand. Obito stands by the door, staring at his boots.

“I can do no more, " she says softly, voice breaking. “It’s time”

“Good-bye, little brother,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to Izuna’s forehead. The glow fades from his body, breathing slows, heart beat slows. And Madara can feel it, Izuna is gone. The omega’s purrs turn to sobs, heavy and gasping for breath. Time slows, as they cry in harmony.

Once she runs out of energy for tears, she sits. Madara rises, walks around the bed to help her out. To help her lay Izuna’s body face up, hands resting on his chest. She covers him with a fresh sheet, tucking him up to his chin.

She collapses into the folding chair with her jacket on it. Head tilted back, exhausted. Madara stand awkwardly next to her, unsure what to do now. His phone vibrates, he ignores it.

Shouting in the hall, a commotion. Madara turns his back to the omega, squaring his body between her and the door, as it slides open.

saturday 6:12 am

“It was you or her, brother,” Hashirama’s tone is firm, steadfast. Tobirama’s just coming off the sedative they’d shoved in his neck to get him back in the car. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen his brother this angry before. “Madara will demand justice for Izuna, blood payment. I will not have another war started, because of this. Give me the gun, so I can get rid of it.”

Tobirama huffs and rolls his eyes, reaching to his holster for his pistol, coming up with nothing but air. He looks from his empty hand, to Hashirama’s widening eyes.

“Tobirama, where is it?”

saturday 6:13 am

Itachi’s in the middle of a coughing fit as his phone rings.

Unknown number.

'Hello?' He answers. It comes out as a cough. The person on the other end cares not.

“A gun,” they say, masculine, rushed, words slamming together. Desperate. “The omega has a gun.”

The phone falls from Itachi’s fingers and another round of coughing over takes him. He struggles to the door, sliding it open. Sasuke rushes to his side, as he struggles to the next door. Coughing. Coughing. Coughing. Shisui, down the hall frowning, makes his way down the hall.

Itachi claws at the door, before Sasuke so graciously pulls it open for him. He stumbles into Obito, knocking him off balance.

Three more coughs before any words come out. “Omega.” Another cough “Gun.”

Bang.

saturday 6:49 am

Senju Hashirama has arrived. The light of sunrise tints the room pink, daybreak. The rain has slowing to barely a drizzle. Madara had tucked Sakura in next to Izuna, covering them both in the bloody sheets. He sits on the plastic chair her jacket sits on. Leaning his elbows on his knees. One leg bouncing. Hashirama peeks under the sheet, before sitting across from him. Neither man says anything. Ruminating in silence.

“I am truly sorry, Madara, more than you can ever know.” Hashirama breaks first. “Tobirama believes that they knew each other somehow. He admitted Sakura had been, not only at the fight, but the main cause of it. Izuna challenged Tobirama for the right to an omega, a fight to the death.”

Madara is drained, out of tears to shed. Had Izuna cared for Sakura? She obviously had cared for him.

“There is one other thing.” Hashirama says, pulling out a phone, light pink case, unlocking it and handing it to Madara.

It’s pulled open to a message. An unsaved number Madara knows by heart. A message time stamped Friday 4:57.

The coffee shop. Same time as yesterday.

thursday 5:45 pm

Izuna has snuck into the Kohana University library, following the little omega that frequents the little coffee shop across the street. She is a Senju. He is sure of it, he sniffs her out like a bloodhound, he can smell her, even through her silly little scent patch. He stays just far enough back to keep her in his sights. He tracks her through the shelves.

He turns the corner and there she is, setting up her laptop at a little table, tucked in an alcove, a little booth, with a window overlooking the university grounds. The afternoon sun basks her in amber, he’s never seen anything as pretty.

His heart beats heavily, thudding in his chest. He strides over, slipping into the otherside of the booth.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, only after he is fully situated, hands on the table fingers laced in front of him. She gasps, emerald eyes widening at his boldness. But he has seen the way she looked at him, coy little glazes with reddened checks, at the coffee shop. She had smelled so much sweet, ripe, like an omega ready for an alpha. She smiled at him as she exited, icey drink in hand, and he knew she belonged to him.

“That’s awfully presumptuous,” she giggles, blushing.

“Oh, I am awful,” he grins, leaning in closer.

“You really are as cocky as your reputation says you are. Uchiha Izuna.” She frowns.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be, sweet omega.” He leans forward closer to eye her pouty lips.

“And you know who I am?” The lips ask. He takes one of her hands in his, lacing their fingers together.

“Mine,” he answers quickly, “Or you will be, regardless of our backgrounds.”

“And why are you here? If anyone catches you with me, it could be a duel on sight.” She shakes her head at him.

“Oh no, you are the most dangerous one, to my heart, and other things.” Izuna might be a bit of a rake, a cad, but he is a romantic at heart.

“Maybe I will hide you then, if someone comes looking.” She laughs, nose wrinkling.

“What do I have to do? To make you see you are mine?” Her blush deepens, creeping over her nose and cheeks.

“I fear,” she whispers leaning in close, “you wouldn’t have to do much more than ask, dear Izuna.”

“Then I’ll ask, every moment from now, until we fall into your nest.”

“Do not tease me.”

“I would never,” he says, bringing her hand up to kiss it. “Run away with me. A fresh start somewhere new.”

“I cannot. It’s too risky. How do I know your intentions are true? I have many suitors, offers vetted for legitimacy. You expect me to give that up for your alpha whims?”

“Sakura!” it’s Ino shouting, searching for her.

“I will marry you. Mate you. Breed you full of pup after pup. Anything to prove myself. Devoted to only you.” He’d move the moon, the stars, the sky for her.

“Sakura!” Ino yells again, closer this time.

“You must go,” she tells him, scribbling on a piece of paper. “Message me tomorrow, a time and place. An exchange of vows, and I will be yours.”

He puts both hands on her face, pulling her in for a soft kiss. And another. And another. He can feel it. They are destined to be together. Fated mates.

“SAKURA!” Ino can’t be more than a few isles over.

“Go!” she laughs pushing him off. Handing him scrap paper with her number scribbled on it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells her, a wink and a promise. And maybe one more kiss, just for luck.

[grimnisdottir]

Tobirama comes across Madara, who has been pushed into an unnatural rut and offers his services.

Its just not the kind Madara likely expects.

[bh-52]

Omega's made a new friend, but not one Hunter's going to approve of

[nevsclowntown]

more on founders omegaverse ; presenting of the siblings

After Hashiramas presenting, Tobiramas came as a blessing as well. Alphas are generally held higher as warriors. The Senju bloodline had many strong and amazing alpha soldiers, so Butsuma has high hopes for his sons, of course. 

Madara turned out a dissapointment after his presenting. Tajima had hopes for Izuna, but he turned out the same. The amount of male omegas is much higher in the Uchiha clan, still Tajima had expected something different, from his remaining sons especially. 

[belit0]

I’m sure you’ve overwhelmed with requests but I’m frothing start the mouth after reading your last MadaIzu post. Can I keep this going with a slightly specific request? Madara and Izuna’s rut and heat cycles sync up/overlap for once but they try hard to not be near each other because of the “risks” iykwim. They go as far as to travel to separate villages to stay in separate inns away from each other but… well it can’t be helped 😏

I'm hunting you, Izuna - Madara's version.

This is, in fact, 2500 words long, which reflects the inspiration I get from this ship. Nothing to do about it, I just love them too much.

They both feel it coming, weeks before their peak hits them, and they know measures have to be taken.

Last time it was ugly, and the only thing that kept Madara from devouring his younger brother was the presence of both Senjus holding him back with different techniques, guarding him until the end of his rut.

...

Madara presented himself as an Alpha from a young age, defining his role while being a child and experiencing the consequences of it, knowing exactly how it would happen, allowing him to prepare for everything.

Tajima had taken it upon himself to train his first pup with all the tools necessary to be the Alpha inheriting the clan, including how to handle his rutting seasons without losing his mind.

When all the other dominants were going crazy for a week solely because of their condition, the Uchiha learned how to control his hormones, not allow them to take control of his body, keep his Alpha quiet and bound within himself, unable to get out and turn him into a wild beast.

All his siblings presented themselves as Alphas just like him, following an identical pattern from the first to the fourth sibling. Tajima proudly trained them all in a dominant style, until the fifth cub arrived.

At the age when all his siblings had already shown an inclination, Izuna was an enigma. Neither his father nor his brothers had any idea why it would take him so long to show his condition, and they all died without ever finding out, except for one.

With the last to leave being Tajima, Izuna bid his father farewell without having an answer for him, feeling like the flawed one in the family, the piece that doesn't fit. In a world divided in two, black and white, the younger Uchiha had no direction, did not belong to any group, and did not identify with anything.

Without showing himself as Alpha or Omega, he was trained like the dominant race, his father's secret hope decreeing he would be equal to all his superiors. Never falling behind or showing weakness, he was able to stand head-to-head with the strongest, and follow his elder brother's course without problems.

At 24 years of age, Izuna still did not know what his body had in store for him.

With peace achieved, Tobirama Senju offered to study him, once the two reached a friendly relationship not involving their older brothers constantly keeping them from killing each other. The albino conducted a series of unknown experiments, trying to find answers or solutions, but Izuna's body did not seem willing to react.

Neither the stronger hormones awakened him as an Alpha, nor the weaker ones as an Omega.

Surrounded by people presented and defined, he lost all hope of fitting in and abandoned the dream of knowing what his role was.

Madara's rutting seasons, both controlled and unsteady, took place mostly in silence, locked in his room. Izuna could notice how in the first days nothing seemed to happen, but at the peak of the season, on the day when everyone's inner Alpha tries to break through all barriers, his older brother fought hard.

The younger Uchiha got into the habit of trying to help him, bringing him food and water when his brother refused to leave the room for fear of hunting down an Omega and destroying it. Izuna would stand against the door, listening to the way Madara thrashed against the walls, growling and clawing at the floor and furniture, fighting against the ferocious animal inside him.

His father never allowed him to see his brother while this happened, always sheltered by Tajima or within the four walls of his room, but Izuna had no doubt he was genuinely having a hard time.

According to the Senju brothers, the more powerful the person, the more terrible their respective symptoms, and they themselves recounted how they had to resort to methods similar to Madara's in order not to do anything crazy. Both Alphas rectified the power of a rut in a strong human, and he couldn't wrap his head around what his brother experienced several times a year.

The last one, by any means, was the worst.

Madara, sensing that terrible week coming, announced to the Senjus and his brother he would take the days off, as usual. Locking himself in his room, and counting on Izuna to bring him food and water. All was fine, the first three days, but on the fourth, something changed.

With his room locked under Tobirama's own jutsu, the younger Uchiha knows it would take far too much to break the door, the walls, to breach or transgress the protective barrier the albino closed over his Aniki. Still, he hears his brother growling more than usual and banging desperately on all the walls of the room.

The Senjus, visiting on the worst day just to check if everything was all right, join a round of tea with Izuna in the courtyard, listening to the terrible chaos Madara causes trying to escape.

Something is wrong.

The Uchiha shares his concern, mentioning the erratic behavior of the leader, and hopes to find answers from the two Alphas. Puzzled, all three together approach the room's door, and Hashirama asks loudly through the wall. "Madara... my friend, can you hear me?"

The only answer is a terrible growl, followed by astonishing rumbling sounds as if the wall is about to give way. The albino is next, "Uchiha, are you okay? Do you need more seals?" Same response, with the door swinging back and forth from the Alpha's onslaught from the other side.

Izuna decides to try his luck, convinced his voice will reach his brother, and will be able to soothe him, "Aniki... what can I do for you? How can I help you?" Everything falls silent, and the Uchiha believes he has succeeded.

The satisfaction, however, is short-lived.

After a few seconds, the thrashing becomes so loud that all three jump back, surprised by the force of each lunge and listening to the guttural grunts of the clan leader. They all gape as the door gives way, Madara overcoming all the Senju's seals, and the Alpha is released in a cloud of violence and primal need.

Hair rains down on his face, longer than normal, and blood-colored eyes gleam in contrast to his sharp dark claws. The older Uchiha pounces without a second's hesitation on Izuna, and tries to ruthlessly bite his neck.

Fortunately, with Hashirama used to one-on-one battles against him, he manages to stop him in a wooden prison before he can reach him, and when Tobirama reacts, he combines a few seals just to make sure.

The Uchiha snarls and charges his new prison, baring his fangs, and unable to generate a coherent thought. Izuna, on the floor, doesn't understand what just happened.

"Why... why...? Why me, and not you?"

"Because you're a fucking Omega, and I hadn't noticed until now," Tobirama replies with disappointment in himself, having successfully ignored his former enemy's condition for so many years. "Look at your pants, it's a clear reaction to what's going on with your brother."

Following the prompt, he notices his clothes are readily soaked, a warm liquid covering the back of his garment, something he never felt coming out. Bodily reaction to an Alpha wanting him, desiring him, trying to take him.

"Why....why?! Why now and not years ago?!" The Uchiha cries out in desperation, having many more questions than answers, looking up from the ground at the beast his brother became, who almost bit him and claimed him as property without even knowing he was an Omega.

"You wouldn't be the first case of someone presenting late... it just took you extremely long. Anija, we're not letting go until his rut is over." Hashirama, stunned and having reacted only by reflex, is at a loss for words to reply, still in the same position in which he released his jutsu to trap his best friend.

"Go get cleaned up, Izuna, and get out of here. Don't come back until Madara is conscious again."

After the fiasco of not even knowing he had presented himself as Omega, and once his brother recovers and no longer wants to jump at his jugular, Tobirama resumes his investigations and finds a number of patterns in the younger Uchiha that weren't there before.

Apparently, his development had been growing extremely slowly for years, gradually gaining his glands, his attributes, and his overall condition. Madara, in his strongest moment of rutting, was able to pick up on what any Alpha would not normally feel, and it could have happened to Hashirama or the albino himself.

His Aniki was the one who found his progression thanks to the amplification of his animalistic senses due to the rut, and his natural instincts skyrocketed. All Izuna's body did was react, enormously speeding up the process in order to be ready for meeting the demand of the nearest Alpha in need.

...

This time, they are both ready.

Izuna's first heat seems to be coming, according to Tobirama, and it coincides with his older brother's rut. Ahead of the situation, Madara decides to travel along with Hashirama as far away from the village as possible, leaving as an emergency a few days before the process begins, while the younger Senju stays behind to assist his former enemy.

Izuna has never gone through heat, he does not know what it feels like, but he is familiar with the story of many Omegas. They all report losing control of their bodies in a similar way as Alphas, but not to hunt, if not to surrender themselves to the first dominant cock that crosses their path. It's disgusting, degrading, and humiliating. The Uchiha never felt so vulnerable as he does at the thought of becoming the whore of the day, but he decides it's time to take charge of his condition.

While he locks himself in his room under the Senju's seals, the latter stays outside, living in his house for the week it takes for him to go through his natural process. Just like he always did for Madara, he brings him food and water, and makes sure the Omega has everything he needs to survive.

A few villages away, Madara and Hashirama arrive at their destination, booking a shared room in the middle of a small town lost on the map. The Hokage's jutsu is fundamental to keep him trapped while he fights against his will.

The first few days go well, with no problems on either side. Izuna suffers the hellish warmth in his body for the first time, the need to be filled and bred, and how his inner Omega takes control of the situation completely. He quickly loses himself in his new, young, natural instincts, never having learned to master them, and cries for someone who will deign to fuck him.

On the other hand, Madara endures the first few days as usual, still conscious and functional, playing cards and winning every bet against his best friend.

On the fourth day, the Uchiha dawns differently, and the Senju is forced to cover the room they rented in his jutsu, protecting himself with his own wood to avoid the wrath of the out-of-control Alpha.

Without the help of Tobirama's seals, it isn't long before disaster strikes.

The fight begins between the two, Hashirama trying not to unleash his power in order to maintain the integrity of the small retreat they rented, but to no avail. Neither fight with their maximum power, the Uchiha consumed by a force without coherence or thought, releasing a bestial force that does not intend to hurt anyone, but to hunt a target.

Suddenly, entangled in wood, Madara stands still, ceasing to clash against the power of his best friend and smelling the place. There is an expression of displeasure on his fierce features, as if he doesn't find the atmosphere pleasant, and his eyes search desperately for... something.

Even from miles away, the Hokage watches as Madara's nose twitches in a particular way, sniffing for something in particular, and there is no doubt in his mind as to what is going on. The Uchiha leader senses his brother even separated by all the land between them, and it won't take long before he tries to hunt him down.

The door of the rented room rattles, and Hashirama hears the voice of the sweet old lady who owns the place from the outside, asking if everything is all right. It's the one moment of distraction that kills his strategy, and the rampaging Alpha takes the opportunity to exert all his strength on the wood, smash it to pieces and make a quick escape.

The Hokage quickly and profusely apologizes to the little old lady, tossing an unconscionable amount of money for the local repairs, and running full speed after his best friend. The velocity of a liberated Alpha exceeds that of any normal human, primal instincts developed to their fullest, but he does his best to at least keep up with him.

He knows Madara has only one goal, and it is at his home. Life seems determined to mock the Uchiha family, bringing an Omega and an Alpha together in the same household, making their rutting seasons overlap.

While a few miles away Madara approaches with terrifying speed, Tobirama hears the sobs of his former enemy, how he begs through tears and cries of pain for someone to take him, to fuck him, to help him. The house fills with a sweet scent that would be impossible to resist if he were not such an experienced Alpha, and the Senju lies down for a nap of fresh air in the home's courtyard, away from that intoxicating perfume.

An hour of peaceful sleep passes, and he is awakened by an overwhelming rumble followed by a desperate cry, "TOBIRAMA! HELP!" the voice of his brother, in a frantic tone rarely heard in him. Moving urgently, he enters the home, only to see Madara break down the sealed door separating the world from Izuna and Hashirama barely holding him with his jutsu.

The Omega, surrendering to the alpha circle, simply presents his butt in the air, hiding his head between his arms and revealing smooth white skin, unblemished, and a hole that keeps producing lubrication.

His own mouth waters, and he reacts a second too late.

The Uchiha leader breaks free of the technique again, breaking the barriers and pouncing on his younger brother, trying to bite the neck that Izuna submissively delivers before being captured by the Hokage again, "TOBIRAMA!".

Finally reacting and getting professional, he combines his power with his brother's, controlling the beast a second before his fangs close on the younger Uchiha's skin.

[amaranthinius]

👀

[siringadev]

I was thinking about why I love Nero so much, and I realized that there is not only something so magnetic and unique about him and his design, but how the core of his whole personality is built on a deep love for Weiss, despite the fact that he is an antihero and does not very good things (first under orders from Shinra, since he is a Deepground soldier, and then out of duress, to summon Omega = to revive Weiss), but all this is out of desperation and love. I do not know any other character inside the FF7 world and beyond, who is so motivated to act out of love as Nero. Even take other iconic pairs of loving brothers (because it is brother's love that is depicted as the strongest in JP games and anime), their motivations were different, and love was secondary.

Take Itachi and Sasuke, for example.

Itachi is stated to have a very strong love for Sasuke, but what he does ultimately causes Sasuke great pain. Yes, Itachi wanted to save him, but at what cost? And his main motive was: to prevent a world war. So, at the cost of his clan's life and Sasuke's mental health, he does something terrible, and I still can't accept it as an act of love. It seems such an unhealthy, twisted form of love, illogical and scary.

And yet, I cried watching those scenes where Itachi reveals the truth, where Sasuke cries, everything is built to squeeze out tears.

Next, Madara and Izuna.

It is stated that he loved Izuna, and loved him even more than Itachi loves Sasuke. And how is this shown and proven? Well, it seems like almost nothing. Madara's main motivation is to become the strongest shinobi, to take control of the world and establish his own order, and thereby establish peace through strict control and then through magical illusions when he became disillusioned with contradictory and rebellious human nature. I understand his motivations, and he is one of the most admired character in Naruto. But what does love have to do with it? Izuna is not even present in his motivation. He simply died and caused Madara's grief, making him cruel and aggressive. And also gave him his eyes. But what besides this?

As for the others, like Lothric-Lorian from Dark souls, their connection was forced by the curse, and their motivation is simply to disobey their superiors. Their essence is nihilism and fatalism. Love is just an accompanying quality.

Not to mention Miquella, who did not show love as a personal emotion, although it seems he should embody universal love. We just can't see his love for Radahn or Godwyn or anyone to the point that we start to wonder if there was love at all? Or if there was love but it wasn't shown? So he is out of the love list.

If we talk about the love of Sephiroth, Cloud and other characters of FF7, they are so far from ultimate love that it does not even occur to me what can be said. Probably, Sephiroth wanted to love, but could not find anyone, suffering from loneliness and his own inability to build healthy relationships, and Cloud had many friends whom he valued, but never found "the one and only", whom he would love completely and unconditionally (which is why ship-wars still rage). It seems that Sephiroth could have become that one and only, considering how much Cloud idolized him, but Sephiroth ruined everything. Yes, Shinra is to blame for this, but partly it is Sephiroth's character, his selfishness and inability to put someone else's feelings above his own. Considering that Nero and Weiss grew up in much worse conditions than Sephiroth, and suffered abuse and pain from Shinra that Sephiroth did not experienced, yet somehow they were able to form the strongest bonds of love with each other and the healthiest relationships with each other (not toxic, not abusive, but built on loyalty, devotion, trust, unity and intimacy).

Sephiroth was so unlucky in love that even his own clones wanted to leave him in the DFFOO, and Weiss even laughed at this, telling Sephiroth that his puppet (Kadaj) cut his strings. And Kadaj, embodying young Sephiroth personality, longed for a family and to find someone who understood and cared for him, and he saw this in the illusionary form of Jenova. Sephiroth could have given him this care and love, but he simply used him as a tool, which hurt Kadaj. As for Weiss, he remembers Nero as the only one who understands him and cares for him, someone without whom he feels incomplete.

"Without Nero, there is no me" - this shows Weiss and Nero's relationship from Weiss' perspective. In DoC, we see their love from Nero's perspective and might have doubted about the reciprocity, but DFFOO shows that Weiss loves Nero as much as Nero loves Weiss.

Each case is unique, and each deserves its own respect and admiration. I simply analyzed one aspect, like love in a character, and came to the conclusion that Nero may be the strongest embodiment of this love at the moment.

[rennelelorren]

I admit I`m not all that into alpha/omega/beta verse...but I do find it funny that in au where Obito time travels to the past Madara gets all head over hills for him (which is kinda narcissistic?). But Mads was like, a really misogynist and sexist individual who thought every omega should kiss his ass, and yet this is what he gets from his omega:

+2 little bonuses

[lossie92]

As promised, here's the fluffy and spicy snippet. It comes from one of my unpublished WIPs, Romance Comes Later.

You can find another snippet from this story here 😉

Hope you enjoy!

-

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, explicit sexual content, D/s undertones

-

This time the kiss was softer and slower; a welcoming; a coming home. It was everything a kiss should be and Madara relished in it like he rarely ever did, taking pleasure in all the little sighs and moans coming out of Tobirama's lovely mouth. 

He rolled them over, careful not to put too much of his weight onto Tobirama. He needn't have worried though as it seemed the omega was too busy kissing him to care about anything else, not even the fact that the yukata he was wearing had bunched up around his slim hips, exposing his long lean legs. 

Though Madara tried valiantly, it was impossible to resist the temptation of running his blunt nails up the inside of one of those shapely, pale legs. Tobirama responded to it by parting his legs even more in a clear invitation, his back arching when Madara lowered himself between them and then moved his hips in a slow roll, the wetness of the omega's cunt soaking his fundoshi. The way Tobirama moaned at that sent a jolt of pleasure down Madara's spine and made him jerk forward with a hiss, his cock rubbing between Tobirama's folds and on the underside of his hard length. 

They both groaned at that, breaking the kiss. Their breathing was quick and wet, their lips only a hair’s breadth apart.

Madara licked at his lips, chasing the taste of their kiss, and smiled when he saw the hunger in Tobirama’s eyes as he watched him do it. His pupils were blown wide, dark maroon over brilliant red, his skin was flushed, his lips parted, and his hair surrounded his head like a halo of silver.

“Cute,” Madara whispered, though he didn't mean to say it.

Tobirama swallowed and blinked at him slowly, surprised, but not displeased. “I… y-you mean me?” He asked in a breathless sort of voice. “You th-think I'm—”

“That you're cute, yes,” Madara confirmed as he pressed a soft kiss on Tobirama's lips before he nuzzled against the omega's cheek. “Very cute. Adorable. And pretty. So, so pretty.”

“Oh,” Tobirama breathed out. His blush had definitely darkened and he both looked and smelled so thoroughly pleased it made Madara purr in satisfaction.

Trancing the line of Tobirama's jaw with his nose just as one of his hands moved to squeeze Tobirama's ass, he said, “Mm. And you know what I think?” 

Tobirama shook his head, his breath hitching. “No. Wh-what is it?”

“I think I want to eat you up,” Madara said with a hint of a growl in his voice before he nipped at Tobirama's shoulder playfully, his teeth grazing the exact spot where he had almost bitten the other man earlier. “Can I do that? Will you let me make you feel good? Make you mine?”

With a sigh Tobirama tilted his head to the side before he said in a breathy voice, “Yeah. You can do that. Whatever… whatever you want.”

That declaration gave Madara a pause. As much as he was thrilled that Tobirama apparently trusted him to this extent, it went without saying he had little reason to feel this way. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, tone serious. “I'll stop if you tell me to. At any point,” he added, “But if I bite you… You won't be able to take that back.”

Tobirama said nothing at first. Instead he cupped Madara's face gently between his hands and drew him close for a long, deep kiss. 

When they broke apart, he smiled at Madara and said, “I know.”

Madara sighed and leaned in for another kiss. “Alright. But please tell me if you wish to stop,” he said, “or if you don't like something.”

“I will,” Tobirama assured him before he closed the distance between them again.

They kissed for what felt like eternity. At first it was slow and languid, a build-up to something more. Then it shifted into something deeper and untamed, the sweet and spicy scent of their arousal getting thicker and more prominent in the air around them. 

Madara found himself enjoying every second of it. Kissing Tobirama was quickly becoming one of his favourite things to do, as stupid as it may sound, and he couldn't help indulging, especially when it seemed to bring the omega so much pleasure. He smelled of relaxation, contentment, and desire, all things that any alpha would find absolutely irresistible, especially if they had any reason to believe they were the reason behind all three. 

“You smell amazing,” he rasped when they finally broke apart to catch their breath. “Fucking delicious. So sweet, so lovely…”

Tobirama hummed in response as he blinked lazily, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. 

“So sweet and all mine,” Madara said next, nuzzling against Tobirama's cheek. “You're all mine, Tobirama, aren't you?”

“Yours,” Tobirama agreed. He fit his face in the crook of Madara's neck, his arms tightening around Madara's shoulders as he sighed a breathy, “All yours.”

It was more than enough to have Madara purring, the low sound coming from deep within his chest. Tobirama seemed to relax even further at that. His eyes slipped closed and he sighed again, a soft little sound that Madara thought was unfairly adorable. Then again all of Tobirama – his omega, his mate, his wife, his – was adorable. Prefect and adorable, and so, so pretty it clearly made Madara a little bit stupid.

Huffing at how ridiculous his thoughts have gotten all thanks to his hindbrain, he kissed Tobirama's cheek before moving his lips lower until he could suck at one of the scent glands at the base of Tobirama's neck. Tobirama whimpered at the sensation, his hot breath fanning over Madara's shoulder.

“Good?” Madara murmured in-between kissing and sucking at the gland.

“Mm, yes,” Tobirama gasped in response. His fingers dug into Madara's back and scalp in an obvious bid to keep him close. “Yeah, it's… I want…!”

Madara smiled. “Hm? What do you want?"

There was a brief pause as Tobirama gathered his scattered thoughts. 

“Bite me,” he finally managed to say, his voice only just louder than a whisper. “Can you… will you bite me?”

“Only if you say please,” Madara told him, his smile turning into a full-on grin when the request made Tobirama curse under his breath. “Come on, darling,” he encouraged as he pressed his thumb against the already reddened skin that covered the scent gland, “you can be good for me and say please.”

“P-please,” Tobirama choked out obediently. His voice was a bit higher and the needy note in it went straight to Madara's cock, making it twitch. “Please, Madara… p-please bite me. Please.”

“Good job, sweetheart,” Madara praised. He continued to rub over and around the scent gland, applying just enough pressure to make it sting. “You deserve a prize. All good, sweet boys do, mm?”

Tobirama nodded. “Y-yeah. I'm, I'm good. S’ good.”

Madara couldn't hold back a chuckle. 

“You are, yes,” he confirmed before he leaned in just close enough that his breath would ghost over Tobirama's neck and shoulder with every word he said. It made Tobirama squirm in his hold, another whimper falling from his kiss-swollen, parted lips. “Such a good omega. So lovely and good for me.”

“Ngh,” was all Tobirama could say in response, it seemed.

Already overwhelmed and they have barely even started. Not that Madara minded, of course. 

He moved his hand away after one more careful press of his thumb. Then he finally closed the remaining distance and kissed right over the gland only to then sink his teeth into it until he tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood. 

Tobirama screamed as he came. His hold on Madara tightened and his head fell back against the pillows, leaving the long line of his neck on full display. Madara licked at the blood slowly seeping out of the bite before he kissed his way up Tobirama's neck, sucking gently at the pale skin. When he reached Tobirama's lips, he kissed the omega hard and deep, his tongue curling against Tobirama's.

It took a few long moments before they broke apart. Tobirama was panting, completely out of breath. His glazed over eyes were focused on Madara and he smiled, a dopey, sweet smile that made him look as happy and content as he smelled.

Madara returned that smile while he ran his fingers over the bite, healing it just enough that it wouldn't bleed or hurt. Selfishly, he wished it would scar. It wasn't a mating bite, but it was still a claim; a way to show Tobirama was his and only his.