Madara Didn't Bring Izuna Back With Edo Tensei Nor Would The Infinite Tsukuyomi Bring Him Back So He

I think I have a 'need for security' with my fantasy men, a kink even. What really gets me going with monster fics (or any romantic pairing) is when the vampire/werewolf is basically a larger-than-life demonic entity, but all his SO feels when in his arms is safety. She knows whatever his reputation or how terrifying he ACTUALLY is, he'd never harm her and would only ever ensure she is cared for.

Unga bunga hit me over the head already! 🥵😵

Twin Flames- Chapter Four

“You still don’t seem to understand. The intention was never to purchase your company or body. It was always to court you, to persuade you towards becoming mine.”

“Sugar daddy” Madara x Nurse!Reader

For my biggest fan @margretesonigiri. I hope you like this chapter! Happy Birthday Izuna, Obito! 🥳🤗 On AO3

Warnings: Romance, flirting, angst, drama, hurt/comfort Words: 4515

Examining yourself in the mirror from every angle, even you had to admit you looked impeccable.

You decided to go pro with your hair and makeup tonight. You wanted to look good for this party. You wanted to look amazing for Madara. A subtle glimmer veiled the eyeshadow, accentuating the shape of your eyes framed by long lashes. Slight contouring brought out the definition on your features, a peachy blush you suspected you won’t need once you saw Madara kissing the apples of your cheeks. Most of your hair was pinned back in an elaborate display of curls and ribbon, with wisps of loosely curled strands coming down the sides of your head ending past the shoulders. It wasn’t like you didn’t recognize yourself, but it was rather unusual for you to spend such time and effort on your appearances. The end result was worth it for this event.

Madara arrived to pick you up tonight at your door, a black SUV with his chauffeur attending downstairs.

Madara regarded you in appreciation. You looked better than good. You were hot, touched by a hint of innocence. The curled strands falling down to frame the sides of your face made you look as if you’d just gotten out of bed, but it was sexy and tasteful. It wasn’t too coiffed and artificial. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of you.

“It seems I haven’t invited you to enough of these events. You look stunning Y/N,” Madara rasped, continuing to appraise everything about you and continuing to discover more to behold. Your gorgeous face, the hair, your dress, the nails. You wore the ruby and gold necklace he gifted you. He meticulously eyed the designs on your legs. Like the first date, he picked up your hand to kiss the back. This time, you didn’t go brain dead. You stepped close, brushing your fingers down his chest and claiming his lips briefly. Madara’s presence went to your crotch. She stirred, as if waking from slumber for the first time in too long. It may have been freezing outside, but neither of you were going to feel it.

“As do you.” He donned a tuxedo for tonight. It had to be tailored for him, the cut hugging his hips and chest, the image of perfection. He was the picture of a sophisticated gentleman, one who exuded a mysterious charm and held an edge of danger. Such resemblance to the knives and swords he created. He was extraordinarily handsome and you couldn’t believe he was your date for the night.

You smiled shyly, allowing him the pleasure of leading you to his vehicle while he gallantly offered his arm.

The privacy display was activated, shielding the driver from whatever the occupants behind did. Madara popped open a bottle of champagne and offered a bubbly chute. “For you.”

You accepted the glass, thanking him for inviting you tonight. “It’s my honour to have you with me,” he replied smoothly. The seats were soft, a burgundy leather. Patterned wood trim framed multiple surfaces in the passengers’ area. Jazz filled this space, the brass instruments setting up a classy ambient atmosphere for the ride.

Gasping, your eyes were trained frantically in the direction of the driver as Madara slid up to you, not touching, but close enough to feel his breath and body heat. He closed the distance between you, a hand sneaking under your knee-length coat and coming to rest on your thigh.

“He can’t hear or see us.” When you didn’t resist, fingers skimmed the surface of your sheer floral-patterned pantyhose, coming inches up your legs until he halted at a location that was still safe enough to be considered somewhat decent. His face was close, discerning gaze carefully watching your expression, as if he was waiting for permission.

Frozen, your mind flew through what was happening. This was Madara who was touching you. You opened your legs a fraction, but that was all he needed. His hand traveled more as he tilted his head before he once again took your lips. Madara was patient and gentle, his touch remaining light. He didn’t grab your crotch like he yearned to. Instead, he stayed tantalizingly at the junction between groin and inner thigh to pet the spot, while his other arm went around your back to pull you slightly towards him.

You didn’t stop him from doing more. From the onset, you were never against a physical relationship with Madara, although your preference was to become more familiar before engaging in such acts. You didn’t realize you were clutching his quads.

“I told you I will wait for you,” he whispered against your temple, pulling his limbs back to himself.

You licked your lips, cursing when you realized you ate some of the lip gloss.

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

Stepping foot inside the venue, you looked around in wonder as you entered with Madara. The opulence was astounding. The foyer was incredibly grand, covered in gold-veined marble floors, intricately carved stone statues artistically lining the walls, the ceilings were so high you could barely make out the details at the top. It was like you went back in time to a historical ball. The men were dapper, the women garbed in sumptuous ball gowns and jewels.

You could swear it got quieter as you and Madara arrived. What an attractive pair you made. People were staring. Though Madara was clearly the one who brought you, the one who was personally invited to a gathering of this class, you were the one who attracted these strangers’ attention. Numerous men, some elegant, some appearing haughtier than others, evaluated your appearance and presence, seemingly pleased by what met the eyes. Several greeted Madara and you in polite acquaintance.

It was the women who made you self-conscious. Some studied you in a peculiar way, their shrewd judgment making you squirm in discomfort. You couldn’t discern what they said to each other or their partners, but that didn’t matter.

"Keep your chin up. These people are no better than you." Madara commented flatly, leading you through the palatial grounds. You and Madara exchanged more cordial greetings with multiple other guests before you were led to your seats. A busser nodded at you and Madara in respect, “My lady, what would you like to drink?” You requested scotch. You knew you needed social lubricant again to survive this night. You plucked some hor d’oeuvres from servers circulating around the hall with trays of appetizers.

Madara chuckled, “Already starting with the strong liquor? There’s a long night ahead.”

“Madara! Let me be! I’ve never been to this formal an event before! This is white tie!” You were so worried you’d make a fool of yourself, which would reflect poorly on Madara. Good thing you consulted the professionals with your makeup and hair for tonight.

“Y/N, remember you are with me. Do not accept disrespect from anyone.”

Appreciating his sentiment, you nodded at him, but didn’t feel settled. You nibbled on your hor d’oeuvres and sipped the single malt scotch, reveling in every bite. Wow, the refreshments were tasty.

Madara continued to make light-hearted chatter with you, as if this were merely another casual date, in an attempt to soothe your nerves. He was somewhat successful.

He stood gracefully and held his hand out to you. “Y/N, dance with me.” Oh my, you took a few lessons in ballroom when you were a teenager, but that knowledge was long gone. Neither did you expect your first rodeo in years to be at such a high caliber. Not wanting to disappoint, you accepted Madara’s offer, but warned you weren’t very skilled.

He was so warm, his gaze affectionate as he walked with you to the dance floor where other couples already took their spots. Goodness, there were more spectators now. “Follow me. I will lead you.”

You were stepping to the rhythm slow-quick-quick, slow-quick-quick…this was a rumba. Under normal circumstances, you’d be bopping along to the sensual lyrics, but right now you could only focus on the drums which were keeping the beat, praying you didn’t misstep. You couldn’t help looking down at your feet to ensure their placement.

Madara was an excellent dancer. It was hard for others to differentiate from a distance, but so close, you saw the edges of his lips were pointed up in a tiny smile directed solely at you. Each step brushed the floor before he set his foot down, pushing your dress aside. He knew exactly where you were and never stepped on your feet or dress. He never looked down, the entirety of his attention focused on you. He signaled to pull you in, push you out. He twirled you. You and him were rhythm. Moving in tune to the beat with Madara’s body was intoxicating, but after one final spin, it all ended too soon. The song was over. There was clapping, even if it was drowned out by the ethereal feeling of you and Madara being the lone occupants on the floor.

The lights struck his figure in such a way. It accentuated the blue undertones of his hair, highlighted the refined arches of his cheekbones. It casted shadow upon his musculature, emphasizing his solid build through the layers of tuxedo. He was excruciatingly beautiful.

In the few moments when you were still in his arms, staring at each other after your first dance, he cupped your face and kissed you deeply in front of everyone. Your eyes were saucers. Madara never claimed you like that in public. Many guests paused to observe the spectacle.

He brought you back to your table and seated you. Bringing his hand to gently stroke the side of your head without tousling your locks, he murmured into your ear, telling you he had to attend to a quick business matter, but he will return to you soon.

He was leaving you alone! You fretted internally, anxiety once again hitting you like bricks, even if you agreed to Madara’s arrangement.

Quietly cutting a piece of the entrée that was served moments ago and gingerly placing it in your mouth, you glanced around the table. Every seat was now filled with men and women as dressed up as the ones you saw when you first entered the building. You nodded in greeting. Two different couples returned the pleasantry and you introduced yourself.

“Y/N? Such a beautiful name. How do you know Mr. Uchiha?” The lady of a kindly-looking couple asked you.

Mr. Uchiha? Sounded silly to you. You avoided the question, not about to disclose the website that brought you back into each other’s lives. “We met at the hospital when Izuna was sick.”

“Do you work at the hospital? Which one? Are you a doctor?” A different woman spoke up, this one immediately setting off a feeling of dislike in you. Her calculating gaze rolled over you in evaluation. It was mocking, the disdain close to the surface. “Please excuse me for my prodding inquiries, we’ve never seen Madara invite anyone other than Izuna to an event before!”

She called him ‘Madara,’ much more informal than the first woman. She must be closer to him or higher in hierarchy than the other guest. “I’m a nurse.”

Yet another pair chimed in. “Nursing is tough these days. It must be extremely difficult for you and your colleagues. Thank you what you do.” There were mutters of agreement from other guests.

You accepted their sentiment with grace.

“A nurse? Such a noble and devoted profession. So giving of yourselves, you even opted to follow your patrons all this way well after your services were no longer deemed necessary. Madara inspires such obsession, doesn’t he?” That beautiful woman you were already wary of offered you a sweet smile.

Pardon me?

You knew this woman was trying to humiliate you for your serving profession, but you weren’t biting. You were proud of and competent at what you did. And in your opinion, your job was vital to society and more important than a respectable number of people’s, including some of the ones seated at this table, even if they may be more finely dressed on a regular day.

She was also calling you a whore. Words were her weapon, carefully chosen to slice with precision like a scalpel. You tried to take the high road.

“Yes, I’ve made a difference in many people’s lives. Seems I can appreciate life more than most people can.” And you believed you did. You’ve seen the best and worst in people, seen as families clung to hope where there was none, and even then the families sometimes forced their will upon your colleagues. They may have screamed and thrown things and legally threatened. You’ve been forced to attempt every possible measure to ‘save’ those patients, because the family still believed their loved ones will pull through and walk out alive, no different from before they were first hospitalized. It was akin to torture, prolonging the suffering of these people for what could be months or more, as they wasted away, growing necrotic, their flesh sloughing off, dying multiple times as you were required to attempt resuscitation, breaking their ribs and continuing the horrible cyclical process over again. All that remained were the empty husks of bodies that still produced vital signs, until eventually even those shut down and the bodies could finally rest.

What you were forced to do was sometimes beyond inhumane.

You could appreciate the preciousness of life in a way many people will never understand. At the end of road, there was no difference whether you were a pauper or filthy rich. You couldn’t take any of that with you when you die. What did this woman know about life, or suffering? How could someone so ignorant even deign to comment on your service? Fury started to build in your mind.

Was life only the vapid pursuit of a hedonistic existence to a portion of these other guests here, whose festivities you’ve intruded upon? Where was Madara? You didn’t like it here. The mood grew tense at this table. You could probably hear a pin drop despite the background clamour of the party.

Deciding you had enough, you rose. “Excuse me,” you stated, before walking off to search for the restroom. You heard tittering as you left and internally scoffed at whoever made that sound, probably a Karen. Very mature. You came here to be with Madara, not to compete in petty rich people duels. You would much rather stumble around in a rumba with Madara than participate in this other type of social dance.

“Karen.” Another guest spoke in warning, but you’d already left.

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

Coming out of the single stall, you flattened your dress against yourself. There she was again, the wolf in sheepskin. She was finishing her touchups. Seriously, she followed you here? You groaned to yourself, not wanting to deal with her right now. Or at all.

She pretended your presence piqued her surprise. Snapping the mini compact shut, she stared you directly in the eyes.

“It was a fabulous performance you gave earlier! First time dancing?” She asked with a pleasant tone, yet her expression betrayed her snideness.

“Indeed. First time in a long while.” You replied tightly.

“I’m astonished! I never thought a newborn elephant could dance, it was absolutely enchanting. I’m sure many patrons haven’t been so entertained in some time.” She washed her hands, flicking excess water off, some hitting you, before drying her hands properly on a plush square towel. “Your dress! Excuse me!”

Anger coursed through your veins. She was getting bolder with your meek retorts, not even trying to veil her insults anymore. If you had a single useful thought in your hollow, elitist brain, every day you would learn many new things. How does Madara bear these people?

She insincerely apologized for splashing your gown. “Y/N, I am doing you a favour by approaching you about this. Someone like Madara will grow bored of you once he tires of lowborn novelty. He doesn’t love you. You will only be hurt by attempting to reach too far up.”

Attempting to reach too far up. Gritting your teeth, you replied, "Your bearing should make you much nobler than me, but it’s unfortunate money can't buy class." You gave her a wholly unimpressed stare. You weren’t interested in her pontification. “My relationship with Madara doesn’t concern you.” It was complicated and only between you and him, even if you’ve also been ruminating on the nature of your relationship lately. Finished your business in the restroom, you exited the premises to find your way back to your seat.

She sneered at you, condescension rolling off every fiber of her being. As if speaking with you was beneath her dignity, she snapped. "A commoner should learn etiquette before sullying spaces above her station."

You tried to think quickly, understanding Madara is higher in the social food chain than anyone here. You will likely be forgiven for saying something impolite, yet you wanted to return a witty remark, one that won’t be too crass or embarrass Madara. Your rage won out instead. How dare she. You were tired of trying to wrack your head for false niceties in comebacks.

With your heart pounding, your voice was filled with vitriol. “Are you a bitch just today or every day?”

She smirked derisively, as if she won the battle by making you break face and curse first. Her patronizing smirk transformed into a look of utter aghast in an instant.

Madara regarded her coldly and she slunk down in deference, but not surrendering entirely. “If a commoner must learn etiquette before showing their face, tell me, are you a commoner?”

She parted her mouth to speak.

“Do you think me tasteless, woman?”

“I would never dare, Madara!”

“You may not address me by my name. You assume to be more familiar than you are. I asked if you are a commoner.”

Madara acknowledged you by glancing down, before his icy furious gaze found its original target again. She hadn’t strung together another eloquent sentence since Madara’s arrival, her previous conceit gone.

“Hn. I suppose a lowborn wretch wouldn’t have the capacity to recognize your betters unless it was spelled out for you. By ‘your betters’ I mean Y/N, who has demonstrated grace and etiquette despite your continued baseless denigration. There is only one commoner here and it isn’t who you thought.”

Guests at the surrounding tables went silent at the exchange, nosy yet uncomfortable with such obvious conflict at a major gathering. The woman gawked, not yet having recovered her meager wits.

Madara maintained his glower at her. “She is with me. That was all you needed to know.” He took your hand and led you away. Madara had no issue with finishing his dinner in an awkward silence at their table. Let them say what they will about him. But you didn’t deserve this kind of poor treatment.

“Do you want to stay here or leave?” He asked you.

Grimacing, you confessed. "I don't like this place. It’s too stiff and the people are like cats."

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

Madara summoned his driver and you left together.

The adrenaline rush over, you suddenly felt very small around Madara, the subject of your affections who you were brutally informed was someone that shouldn’t be yours. “I’m sorry if my conversation with that woman was inappropriate at any point and if it reflects badly on you. I said some foul things too.”

You’ve never seen Madara verbally vicious, although you were certain he had it in him. You were aware he was harsher with strangers than you and Izuna. Seeing his wrath was still an experience.

“Don’t apologize for rightfully defending yourself. I shouldn’t have left you by yourself for as long as I did.” You shook your head to inform him he was not at fault. Madara was beyond rage that anyone dared insult or belittle you. That someone found an opportunity to lash you with such venomous words when he wasn’t present to defend you. “I’m sorry you went through that. Are you okay?”

Not looking at him, you asked, “Who was that?” You curled against your protector.

Madara snorted. “No one of importance. She was someone who wanted to arrange an engagement with either me or Izuna long ago, but we never gave her the time of day. Seems she forgot about everything except her unwarranted bloated opinion of herself.”

The woman was way out of line. No one else at the party treated you with such contempt, even if they viewed themselves superior. You understood this, but you weren’t used to conflict. Heart still pounding hard in your chest, you were severely shaken by the confrontation now that it was over, especially when some of that woman’s appalling sentiments were in truth thoughts you also considered.

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

You could tell Madara was still livid when you entered his penthouse together and he tossed his keys on the counter. He was already pulling off his tuxedo and loosening the bowtie as he tousled his hair and exhaled forcefully. You stayed close to the grand entrance momentarily before following him inside. You were quiet, slow, and methodical when you removed your winter coat and placed it on a leather chair.

Madara was suddenly in front of you, tucking you into his arms, his lips seeking yours in a kiss harder than he had ever given you. Gasping, you pulled from him and looked away, feeling heavily conflicted.

“Y/N?”

You took several steps back, praying the distance will help clear your mind. It was futile.

Trembling, your voice broke. "She wasn’t completely wrong…I don't belong with you. We're from completely different worlds. You should be with someone better than me. Someone beautiful, elegant, from a higher family more suited to your station."

Madara's face was blank. "Yet I am with you, no?"

You couldn’t find solace in his words. "I’m just a normal person, Madara. And I don't want you to buy me things, I was never cut out to be a sugar baby, it seems. Yet I stick out like a sore thumb even more among your wealthy crowd without those luxury items. I can’t do this anymore."

Tears trailed down your face and you sniffed helplessly, swiping your hands across your eyes repeatedly to remove the salty fluid, loathing your weakness in front of him yet again.

Madara straightened, stiff as a board. His voice was cooler. He didn’t pursue when you stepped away from him. "It was my assumption that was the way those sorts of relationships worked."

He agrees we are on different levels. Your eyes watered more at the confirmation on the nature of your relationship. His money and prestige for your time and sex. You didn’t even put out for him.

Yet…you wanted to be with him, even if it would only be a coupling of bodies and you wouldn’t claim all of him. It hurt immensely, but you couldn't get enough of this man, like you were a moth drawn to flame. From the beginning, it felt like there was something deep, like you were meant to be with Madara. But the more you reflected on your relationship, the more it was apparent it didn’t matter whether Madara was actually fond of you or if he regarded you as paid-for company. The extreme difference in social status wasn’t so easily overcome. Steeling your resolve, you looked him in the eyes, hands quivering as they went to your back to undo the zipper, opening your dress to start slipping it off.

Madara watched you in bewildered rapture at first, his gaze tracing every movement revealing increasing tracts of bare skin. Your delicate lace bra came into view once your top was exposed. He wanted you so much it was painful. But…he also wanted you to want this. He wished for you to enjoy being with him so much you'd keep choosing to return to him whenever you desired intimacy. He hated this nervous look of coercion painted on your features. Hated your tears. This was wrong.

He stopped you part way, grasping your hands in his, then sliding your loose clothing back over your shoulders. "No, not like this. Never like this." His grip was hard.

Something in Madara cracked, his piercing gaze pinning you. “This misplaced sense of inferiority in you is unbecoming. Did you think I let merely anyone into my home? Into my life?” He stalked towards you as you slinked away, until he had you cornered against the walls. “Or that I would turn over one of my properties to someone insignificant to me?”

He had to stop. This was no way to speak to someone he held dear.

Madara closed his eyes, jaws clenched, his frustration flaring. Irritation he didn’t realize he could feel towards you coiled in his chest. He allowed several moments to pass, to collect himself before he could verbalize truly malignant words. After all this time, how could you not know? What was this unsightly self-pity? His mouth pulled into a tight line, gathering his thoughts as he calmed himself. He wouldn’t be cruel, not to you.

"You still don't seem to understand. The intention was never to purchase your company or body. It was always to court you, to persuade you towards becoming mine."

“Meddling fools may be incapable of seeing your radiance and don’t deserve your company. That isn’t our concern. I’d rather you don’t fit in with trifling superficial crowds. What we have was never ‘those sorts of relationships’ you’re assuming.” He glared at you. 

You were still gaping with an astonished expression, trapped between a wall and his sturdy body. You were shaking, close to hyperventilating. Madara took in your anguished state. This was agony for him too. He sat you on the floor, pulling you between his legs and into his body. Your heaving breaths eventually slowed and tears dried as you leaned against him, feeling uncertain in his embrace, but not yet wanting to leave. He wants me for me, the obvious conclusion settling in. You huddled up with your head nestled into his neck and he breathed you in.

It was late when you spoke again. “Madara? I’d like to go home tonight.”

“This is one of your homes. This place is yours now in every way except in title.” Madara felt uneasy now that the storm that was his temper passed, hoping he didn’t say too much. He held you more tightly.

“No, I’d like to go back to my home tonight. I can’t be here right now. Please. I need to be alone.” You pleaded, hoping he’d understand. “I’ll pack my things and call for a ride.”

He snorted, the notion you wanted to pack your belongings to abandon your home absurd to him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I will take you home if you insist. It’s the middle of the night in freezing weather.” He was not letting you go that easily. You were his.

~To be continued~

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

Notes:

A gentle reminder that while Madara is softer with Izuna and her, he isn’t soft. Drama finds the drama king, who still wields a way with words like a kunai.

Amazing art! Would have loved to see Madara as a sensei!

Sketches from Madara as Team 7 Sensei AU by Delicate Memento

Translated by me and reposted with permission. Please do not modify or repost elsewhere without permission of the artist. If you want to ask for permission to colour, etc, but don’t speak Chinese, I’d be happy to be a go-between. (Reblogs are welcome!)

Missionary is good but especially good if you're so concentrated on fucking you don't hold yourself up anymore so you just lay with your chest pressed against theirs, panting and moaning into their neck and you reach back under them, grope their ass and lift it up so you can drill a little deeper and they automatically wrap their legs around you...yeah

It's my birthday

It's my birthday week. A new decade for me! Definitely feels different than when I hit 20. Been celebrating basically the whole week, but if anyone can send me fanart of Madara and/or Alucard (bonus if they're scantily clad), or direct me to short scenes of Alucard or furry/monster slice of life, smut, or fluff, that would make this dirty woman's next week 🙏🏻

A Night for Hunting Ch.10 should be out in the next few days! Got carried away with the celebrations this week! 🥳

Guro Challenge Day 2: Decapitation

now obviously I wasn’t going to get through a guro challenge without drawing Hellsing at least once. Maia and I watched the ova recently and when he was like ‘oh that was fun, I haven’t got my head cut off for a while’ I was like getting decapitated is fun for you? you do it recreationally?

bonus:

‘can you put that back, we have a meeting’

A Night for Hunting Ch.20 -Millennium

T/W: 18+, NSFW, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, pining, Nazis, war crimes, canon-typical violence, kidnapping, sexual assault, implied gang rape of minor, forced oral sex, torture, executions, psychological horror. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Words: 5408

Some people will find certain scenes in the upcoming chapters upsetting. Real Nazi war crimes are featured. In no way are the actions of Nazis glorified, but their inclusion acknowledges the atrocities that were committed and the senseless suffering caused by war. I believe these scenes fit into the violence typical of this series, but I updated the rating of this story to “Explicit.” These parts aren’t cute at all, but are meant to be horrifying because that’s what Millennium is like in canon, even if the anime made the characters seem comedic in their evil at times. The Hellsing OVAs are rated 18+ in many countries to begin with.

An excerpt below the cut

“Come on……Ugh!” Both of you groaned as the ball dropped on an odd number and you had to fork over your chips. So there was no strategy in roulette for a novice like yourself, only leaving your fortune up to fate as the wheel spun and decided how to land, and your luck sucked tonight. Even the lowest risk picks were a loss.

You sighed and decided to opt in for just one more round before calling it a night.

Screaming drifted through the room. Spine-curling howls echoed in the distance, followed by the banging of heavy objects crashing to the floor. It was reminiscent of Alucard dropping his coffin lid on the ground to let you in whenever you went to pillow with him. 

Silence belonging to a funerary procession hung over the crowded space as the stunned guests stared at each other like lost sheep while trying to pin the unnerving sounds to a source. The unmistakable sputtering of machine guns broke the hush and several bodies crumpled to the floor like bags of sand amidst more terrified screeches.

“That's more like it! Fucking Rip, taking forever to get onboard. It was getting boring waiting around in a box!” Someone announced loudly.

Beside you, Chris cussed under his breath as you saw Gareth scanning the room from a distance. You didn’t catch who spoke as Chris grabbed your arm and hauled you to another aisle.

What was going on?!

Glassware shattered as they slid from the bartop and met the floor in a shrill explosion of shards. A brief disorienting sensation caught you by surprise as you quickly adjusted to avoid toppling over from inertia. The ship was rapidly putting on the brakes.

A man stumbled forward blindly, trying to pull his intestines back into the gaping cavity as he bled out. You’ve seen this kind of sordid violence and butchery before. Chris wheeled you around.

Terror was a cold, icy feeling that was almost paralyzing. Somehow you knew whatever horrible thing that was occurring had to do with Alucard and Hellsing. It was like watching a gruesome sequence unfold in a video game, or when you dissociated from what happened on missions –you barely noticed the pandemonium as the guests began to panic and scatter.

The bodyguard tugged you along and you traipsed through the aisles. In the unlikely event anything was to happen, you were to pose as the significant other of either Chris or Gareth. If any unscrupulous party was to be seeking you, the act was less suspicious than for a nameless civilian to have two military-trained bodyguards. It was crazy that the unimaginable scenario was now playing out.

Unspooling viscera tumbled from fever hot tissue as more people were cut down from the frenzied crowd to dissuade stampeding. Your thoughts sputtered as fractures of terror resurfaced. Chris stopped behind a set of slot machines and you peered out at the clearing ahead where a dark-skinned man with a giant eye on his hat pointed a rifle at a woman’s face.

"We’re looking for a vampire's bitch. Is it you?" 

"No! I don't know anything!" She replied in a hurry.

The man cackled as he reached for her face. “Then you’re useless, ‘ey? Slut.” Her skin sagged in the iron grip as she was smashed headfirst into the floor over and over and over, a sticky wet slurp accompanying each impact.

“Hey Jan, that’s a woman. We are lookin’ for a woman. Can’t be killin’ ‘em yet,” someone else muttered.

‘Jan’ paused in dashing his victim’s brains across the carpet as he considered his actions. “Something like this is part of The Doc's science, no? I'm just helping add to his nutty data set!” He laughed with a familiar tone, one that desired more gore.

The facts from your training came to you quickly. These were certainly vampires, not ghouls. Their purposeful actions suggested it, but their supernatural strength confirmed the suspicion. 

The nightmare had only begun to unravel.

~To be Continued~

Ch.21 -The Monster of Legend

Ghost of the strongest

What was Izuna's character?

Izuna is most likely one of the most mysterious character in the Narutoverse. He's truly a ghost. Barely seen but so important to Madara's storyline and his eyes the most powerful sight of the entire series. Regardless, all we know about his personality in the canon can be resumed in few sentences : He admired his brother as a child, he was also a fierce warrior from early age, he warned his brother against the Senju, and before his death willingly offered his eyes to Madara in order to protect the Uchihas. It's quite thin for a character development...

In the fandom, fanart, and the many fanfictions included, the general consensus is to represent Izuna as a soft and gentle character always devoted to his brother. Sometimes he's the victim of a hungry-power Madara (but that's really old stories back when no one knew that Obito was cosplaying Madara), often sassy and effeminate. A bit like Haku who was entirely in service of Zabuza. I suppose this idea comes from the adjectives that describes Izuna in the databook :

Considering the lack of information in canon, that headcanon starts to become the more popular. My ambitious is to try to discover what was Kishimoto's intentions for Izuna if he had more time to articulate that character. It's just an hypothesis that I present you, it's in no way a definite answer.

I) Intuition

That's nothing I can prove but it always seems to me strange that Izuna was the quiet one in this sibling's dynamic. If you put yourself in his shoes opened-toes sandals, he is Madara Uchiha's little brother. From birth, his brother was seen with special attention. Madara was the oldest, the heir and on top of that the genius one. Butsuma said that as a child he was able to kill adults. Being the second is virtually being invisible in front of other adults, it would have naturally created jealousy and a need to exist outside of the big brother's shadow. We've seen this same dynamic before between Sasuke and Itachi. The little one feels always left out. The difference there, is that Itachi was mostly absent in Sasuke's life, he was always busy with school and missions. And after the Uchiha's downfall, when Sasuke was just 7 years old, the distance between them wider dreadfully. For the majority of Sasuke's life, Itachi was a distant childhood memory. In contrary, Izuna seems to have stayed close to his brother until his death at 24 years old. They enjoy a childhood together and were so close than even adults they were able to take over the Uchiha clan. Because they spend more than 20 years together, sharing happiness and losses, there is for me an implicit idea that Izuna was balancing Madara and vice versa. In the same way, Hashirama's visionnary ideas are counter-balanced by a down-to-earth Tobirama. The Senju carves his unique personality by constantly creating new jutsus that surprised his opponents while Hashirama was known for being that rare and powerful Mokuton user. Madara being this taciturn person in public, Izuna must have been a bit more outgoing. So if Madara was in private described as kind by Hashirama, maybe Izuna was more rational when dealing with people.

II) Canon + extra materials

in extra materials I mean : databook, official card, official illustrations, video games ect...

Even if I'm team canon-only, sometimes other fillers or goodies can give us a hint of what would have been Izuna. And two things catch my attention :

first, he's always represented as someone very confident, holding a sword ready to slay someone, focused. Actually...he NEVER SMILES. He smirks once in a filler when he thought he was about to overpower Tobirama. It shows more his merciless attitude towards his enemy than any trace of softness. We are very far from the flower boy from fanarts.

secondly his voice...Have you heard his adult voice? It's surprisingly deep comparing to his slender appearance. Again it doesn't sound like a fragile baby doll but more like a commander in chief.

III) Izuna vs Obito

It took me a long time to realise how much Izuna is in the canon constantly in parallel with Obito. It goes back to my old post on "why Madara chose Obito". Months later, I think the answer is more obvious that what I thought back then.

Izuna simply might have had a very similar personality than Obito. Or should I say, Madara saw in Obito, not only his potential strength but also a clear resemblance in character to his dear brother. At the Kannabi's bridge, He observed and found Obito dying after he saved Kakashi, Rin and gave his right eye to Kakashi. There is a strong parallel to Izuna's life who also gave his eyes willingly to Madara when he was dying. In both case, there is a deep devotion for the well being of their friends/clansmen.

Even if Madara consciously chose to cut bonds with the world, unconsciously he still yearned for companionship. It's obvious by the fact he couldn't stop talking about his friend Hashirama, and in the similar way he looked for his "right hand" in Obito. Yes, in a deranged and manipulative way but even during the war, he never doubted Obito's intentions until it was obvious that he betrayed him.

So not only Obito was a replacement for Izuna as a brother in arm, but the databook gives them the same birthday the 10th of february, obviously the same zodiac sign Aquarius and most importantly the same blood type.

IV) Blood type

Izuna and Obito are said to be the same blood type O. Madara also is type O. As a westerner I've never paid attention to this information (I don't even know my own blood type to be honest!😅) until I've learned recently that Japaneses have got a whole culture associating blood type with certain personality traits. They take this more seriously that astrology to the point there is even campaigns to prevent discrimination towards rare types. Since I don't know much about this theory, let me quote some other sources.

So what is type O?

source : https://www.tofugu.com/japan/japanese-blood-type/

This source goes deeper into type O in Naruto.

source : https://aminoapps.com/c/naruto/page/blog/blood-types-personality-theory-in-naruto/lrqm_VpiQuDpPEDjoMXgoMVnn0E3eeXmpw

I don't really know how to interpret the type O because the adjectives seems very larges and vagues to me. but it seems that leadership trait, hard working, outgoing, protective, direct, confident are the trait that comes the most from the various sources I've read. In Naruto, the others type O are : Kakashi, Asuma, Sakura, Temari, Raikage, Neji.

An other interesting aspect, is relationship between each types. Look closely at OxO relationship.

Let's go back now to compare now Izuna and Obito's databook pages with this new information in mind.

Notice again how Izuna is systematically showed in action, fighting someone or ready to attack. That's not really a moment where he looks relaxed with an easy-going attitude.

Izuna's favourite hobby was training with his brother Madara. Because of their closeness as brothers they developed an healthy competition. A good OxO relationship.

In the opposite, considering the circumstance of their meeting, Obito never truly trusted Madara and even when he agreed on the Tsukuyomi plan, he decided early on that he'll do it his own way and almost overtook Madara's role as the "saviour". It shows a negative OxO relationship.

In this perceptive, it seems to me that Izuna and Obito share in common of being extremely strong-willed and competitive. They have an inflexible determination that never sways. After being deadly wounded, Izuna still found the strength to warn Madara about the Senjus and again in his deadbed he made Madara promise to watch over the Uchiha clan. His vision (even in the literal way) was strong enough to motivate Madara long after his death. This devoted, balanced personality must be read as a confident desire to protect his people, the Uchiha clan, to the point of self-sacrifice.

Obito demonstrated two times an incredible will. Once as a child when he defended Kakashi's father and swore to destroy an unfair shinobi system, and a second time when he battled against the juubi. He knew he wasn't physically strong enough neither to hold the rinnegan nor contain juubi inside him but by cheer willpower he forced his destiny.

To conclude my guess is that Kishimoto intended Izuna as a warlord, a man of action, just like Madara, with a strong sense of duty and sacrifice for his clan. And the Senju represented to him the epitome of threat for the Uchiha's peace. Izuna pictured peace and harmony related to his clan not the whole world like his brother did (and maybe that's why he had to make him promise to protect the Uchihas first!?). He was probably more extravert, agreeable and also more distant emotionally than Madara. His interaction with his big brother must have been a funniest version to what we've seen with Obito. Just imagining those two uchiha big egos together, they were probably insufferable for their opponents 😂. If you read the manga again it's as if Madara is expecting a back-and-forth banter with Obito...just like Izuna would have done with him in the middle of a battles.😢

That's all I wanted to share on my hypothesis, maybe in future Kishimoto will give us something about Izuna's past and this post will age badly but let me know what you think of this theory?