Chapter 1
Hidan probably should’ve cared more about his designation. He didn’t know how it worked or why he was the way he was. After all, he didn’t know anyone else like himself. Growing up, he’d been a switch. It wasn’t the worst designation. It didn’t have any prestige to it. People were more likely to write him off than they would a dominant or alpha, but at least he wasn’t some damn omega or submissive, or even Jashin forbid, a little.
Secondary traits were for life after all, but ever since he’d started following Lord Jashin, Hidan’s designation had been more, well, fluid. More so than any switch ought to be. A switch could act like a submissive bitch or they could dominate some submissive bitch, but at the end of the day, they were still a switch. They couldn’t change their whole biology.
The first time Jashin brought him back to life, Hidan hadn’t noticed anything different about himself. The next time though, his entire body felt off. Outwardly, nothing looked different, but the way he moved, spoke, held himself, even the feel of his own chakra, was all wrong. His senses sharpened, especially his sense of smell. He didn’t hate it, but it definitely took several days to feel comfortable in his own body again. It wasn’t until he passed by a pair of travelers on the road he’d smelled it—honey, sickeningly sweet and cloying. A switch’s sense of smell shouldn’t be all that powerful, but one sniff and Hidan somehow knew that one of the strangers was an omega about to go into heat—and the thought went straight to his groin. He’d never rutted before, because he’d never been an alpha before. Because designations were for life. So of course he’d never been an alpha, because he wasn’t an alpha, and there was no way to become one.
But there he was, barely able to keep it together long enough to kill them both for Lord Jashin. Unfortunately, the dead omega didn’t smell all that different from a live one. Honey, just so sweet, his dick still throbbed.
Not knowing what else to do, he stabbed himself right through the heart. That seemed to do the trick somehow, because as soon as he came back everything was normal again. His chakra, his motor control, and best of all that damn smell muted itself to nothing more than a slight odor.
It took a few more deaths over the following months to finally realize what was happening. Designations were for life, and every new life came with a new designation. More often than not, he was a switch. A few times, he’d been a beta. Being a beta wasn’t awful. They had a stronger sense of smell than he was used to, but like switches, they were fairly unnoticeable and unthreatening in the public eye. Even with the scythe, people didn’t see him as an immediate threat until it was too late.
Dominants couldn’t sway anyone with their voices the way an alpha could, but their social status was nearly just as high and as an added bonus, it came without any of the ruts.
Ruts, heats and knotting, sex in general—he hadn’t been interested in those things as a switch, and despite what an alpha body wanted, he didn’t. That kind of thing just got in the way of his religion. Everyone around him seemed to love sex, but as far as Hidan was concerned, killing people was better. Simpler. And what Lord Jashin commanded, Hidan would deliver.
Every designation felt unique, but he’d spent enough time changing between dominant and switch, alpha and beta to understand the ins and outs of them. Always those four over and over again, so for a while he thought couldn’t be anything else. That was until another fight with Kakuzu left him a submissive.
All Akatsuki knew about this quirk of his. It happened enough times that it’d be absolutely sad if a bunch of S-ranked criminals didn’t notice something so obvious. But being a submissive? That was just embarrassing.
Deidara had been thrilled to no longer be the only submissive in the organization, had insisted Hidan get used to this designation as well, but Hidan wasn’t anyone’s lesser and he refused even to pretend to be one.
“What happens if you become submissive in a fight, un?” Deidara asked. “You won’t know how to control your chakra.”
“I’ll just stab myself again.” Hidan grinned. “Why be some bitch when I don’t have to be?”
Deidara just glared at that, but Hidan wasn’t limited to one designation anymore, and if he didn’t want to be a submissive, he wouldn’t.
Turning into a submissive only happened the onc time and it had only been a few minutes at that. Afterward, Hidan went right back to his usual four, so of course he wasn’t worried about it when Konoha-nin found him and Kakuzu. By that point the changes felt just as natural as breathing. Every otherwise fatal hit, dominant to beta to alpha to switch and back again. Changing scent, chakra, fighting style, it shocked them just as much as his immortality did.
He’d gotten so close to another sacrifice for Lord Jashin that day too. He’d got the jounin’s blood, started the ritual, and only failed because that damn brat with the shadow jutsu got in his way.
And of all the deaths he’d experienced thus far, exploding was by far the worst. Without Kakuzu to put him back together, he was stuck in pieces and more helpless than he’d ever been.
Suffocating underground, Hidan fell in and out of consciousness. Dirt clogged his eyes and mouth, worked its way into all his extremities and gaping wounds. It’d be a real pain in the ass to clean up after this, and he’d probably shit mud for a whole week. If he ever got the chance to be whole again. What little chakra he had left pulsed and shifted, trying to change a body he no longer had.
When hands started digging around, latched onto his head, and pulled him upwards, he was barely conscious. Kakuzu? It had to be. Or maybe Zetsu. Who else would bother finding his sorry ass? Whoever it was wasn’t gentle by any means, and the obnoxiously bright sun in his dirt crusted eyes after so long underground meant he couldn’t see anyway. A moment later he found himself tossed face down into a bag, once more in blissful darkness but by no means any more comfortable.
The next time he woke it was to a metal ceiling and excited voices. Having his whole body ripped apart had been agonizing, but being stitched back together again? Piece by piece? Now it was absolute torture. Lord Jashin must’ve considered this a fitting punishment for the mess Hidan had made of that last fight. If he’d managed to kill those nin, he wouldn’t be suffering right now. So many potential sacrifices were lost, and instead there were hands with needles all over his body, pulling thread through skin and sinew.
Healing bouts of chakra pooled into him and his own spiraled the more whole his body became.
Every time he opened his eyes there was a new set of blurry faces and voices he couldn’t recognize. The pain didn’t get much better and against himself he started crying. Not big heaving sobs—he didn’t have the breath or energy for that—just silent tears trailing down the sides of his face.
“He’s awake,” someone said.
“Put him back out.”
A long darkness followed, but he didn’t dream. Once, during a brief moment of consciousness, he managed to rasp out for Kakuzu. But his partner didn’t answer, just a bunch of strange voices talking around him and never at him.
Sometime later—days, weeks, he sure as shit didn’t know—everything suddenly became clearer. He could feel the rest of his body in its entirety for the first time in what seemed like forever and the hard surface he was lying on. He could neither move, nor open his eyes. His fingers didn’t so much as twitch when he tried to make a fist. Something long and thin rested against his lower face. One of his nostrils was almost painfully full, stretched wider than it had any right to be. The tube ran all the way down his throat and something was moving inside it, releasing into his roiling stomach.
Frigid air with only a thin sheet for covering. Worst yet was a rapidly cooling wetness on his thighs. His chakra had settled into something he couldn’t recognize.
Someone grabbed at the sheet, pushing it upward and exposing him to the cold air. Two warm hands gripping his knees and spreading them came next, followed by an audible intake of air.
“Shizune-san, come look at this.”
A set of footsteps came closer, then another long pause. “Shikamaru said he was an alpha.”
“But Kakashi said he didn’t know. His scent kept changing.”
Hidan hoped he wasn’t some damn omega. It’d explain a lot, the chakra and the weakness in his limbs. A cunt between his legs leaking onto the table. Hidan didn’t think omegas got this wet for no reason, but it wasn’t like he ever needed to know before now.
Whoever was leering between his legs, expecting a large alpha cock, must have gotten quite a surprise.
“You! Go get Tsunade-sama,” the second voice, Shizune, said. “And you, I want a full set of bloodwork. We need to find out exactly what he is.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Two voices answered at once.
None of these names meant anything to him. Dread pooled into his stomach. Worry wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but this was stronger, more intense than he’d ever felt before. The Konoha-nin. It had to be them. No one in Akatsuki would be confused by his new designation. And no one else knew where he’d been buried. Being captured was above being exploded, but not by much.
Still exposed, he could feel a faint blush. A submissive was bad enough, but he’d heard stories about captured omegas. If any of them were true—he didn’t want to think about it. As soon as he could, he’d go for the nearest knife and fix himself. Then he’d off everyone who’d seen him like this. Lord Jashin would be pleased at least, but he could just imagine Kakuzu’s demeaning laughter. Hidan would never live it down. The embarrassment alone from being captured and then exposed to a bunch of strangers almost made him wish he was back underground.
“Clean him up.”
“Hai, Shizune-san.”
Something soft touched him between the legs, right on his dick, and started rubbing. It neither hurt nor felt good—it was just invasive and upsetting. Violating. He tried to shift away but more hands came from nowhere to hold his legs and hips still. Then more cloths and more rubbing. They even lifted him up to wipe down his ass.
“Stop,” he hissed. His voice was barely more than a whisper, but the short pause of movement let him know they heard him. “I’ll kill you.”
“He’s awake again.”
“Get the sedative.”
A sharp pinch on his arm and he was out again. He vaguely remembered the table moving, as if being wheeled and flashing lights above his head. When he finally came to again, he was no longer cold, but lying in what felt like blankets and pillows. Omega. He had to be. The new designation must have changed the Konoha-nin’s perspective. Omegas weren’t threats. They didn’t need the same harsh punishments other designations required. Just some light discipline and an alpha to breed and keep them in line.
Something thick rested between his legs as if they’d plugged him.
Curled in on his side, the most comfortable he’d been in forever, part of him didn’t even want to move. But he couldn’t stay an omega. He’d be naïve to think the situation couldn’t get worse, that before the day was over, some alpha wouldn’t try to shove its cock up him.
The fear was what helped push him to full wakefulness. He opened his eyes and flinched, ripping his thumb from his own mouth. Had he been sucking it? His other hand held some kind of stuffed dog toy to his chest, which he immediately shoved away and scrambled back from. His legs were still trapped by blankets, and he was boxed in on all sides with sky blue pillows. Kicking everything away in shock, the only thing that stopped him from tumbling off the side of the bed was the padded railings.
Catching his breath, he forced himself upright slowly and awkwardly. His coordination had never been so off but he still managed, even with the soft rope tying his wrists together. A quick glance at his feet confirmed his ankles were also tied. The knots weren’t tight by any means, and there was enough slack to allow him more movement than any captured nin ought to have, omega or not. Even so, he couldn’t get his fingers to pry the knots loose. His hands looked the same as they always did, but they were clumsy and uncoordinated. He couldn’t get enough leverage to slip even one hand free.
The room looked like a standard hospital room, except for a bunch of toys sitting against the far wall. Building blocks, small ponies, and stuffed animals, they were the kinds of things designed for someone very young.
The confusion and uncertainty must have started to get to him, because his eyes watered and his sight went blurry. Damn omega hormones and all that.
Not an omega, he thought to himself.
He furiously wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of the gray shirt he’d been dressed in. Shifting, he felt the crinkle of something thick around his waist. He didn’t want to look, but with nervous and shaking hands he hooked his thumbs into the band of his sweats and rolled them down a couple inches and there it was, the top of a diaper sticking out of his pants.
Some part of him must have already known. The thumb sucking, the lack of coordination, chakra so small it was practically nonexistent. These weren’t omegan traits.
He’d been captured by Konoha and put back together again. Then they’d left him in a child’s room with a diaper.
He was a goddamn little.
“Fuck!”