damien-wolfram-art

[damien-wolfram-art]

Titan’s Rest

@hashimada-week

@flawlessstriker made some art based on this one

Here it is!

A century ago, The Land of Fire was covered in trees and full of life. The Land of Trees would’ve seemed like a better name then. Now, however the land lies still– its forests charred. None more so than the trees at Titan’s Rest, where the great Wood Golem, Hashirama once clashed with the ancient Susanoo, Madara. 

In the time that they ruled, Wood Golems and Susanoo were both imposing behemoths. The Susanoo were creatures that arose from the continent’s fiery formation. Their hulking armored forms were made of earth, rock, and metals. Most impressively, Susanoo ran on the heat of the planet itself. Each individual had a molten core of magma fed by the earth that erupted from its joints when roused. Some Susanoo had crystals adorning their shoulders and sprouting from their heads in the shapes of intricate headdresses. These were some of the most desirable and attractive.

Madara was one of the most desired of the Susanoo. The females of his kind rarely left him alone for he was strong, sturdy, and his core boiled stoutly no matter the weather. When he was formed, he crawled out of the magma with his four powerful arms and when he dressed himself, he made quite the statement. He carried a blazing sword that he forged himself and clad himself in a pleated metal armor sode. He adorned his back arms with large blue crystals that he had harvested so that they resembled glistening wings. He also made a small headdress for himself from some of the same crystals that rimmed the seams on his head and neck. This is where his fire escaped from, causing a plume that resembled a majestic mane.

  It wasn’t until the day this curious Susanoo rose up and cultivated their molten soup of a continent into something less primordial, that the land’s name lost its meaning. The Susanoo may have been the ones who named The Land of Fire, for fire was what they knew, but Madara had no interest in women or remaining stagnant in the lava pools. He’d shoo them constantly in favor of gardening. 

When the first tree sprouted, he was infatuated. He couldn’t help but tell the other Susanoo all about the new life he’d created. This proof of concept encouraged other Susanoo to join him. Soon, more and more trees were growing all over the Land of Fire! Some of them grew to be larger than the Susanoo and with these trees, the Wood Golems were born.

At first, like the trees, there were very few Wood Golems. Forming from the tree bark, they developed quickly, absorbing life energy from the water and air around them.  One Wood Golem was friendlier than the rest. His name was Hashirama– a strong oaken behemoth with thick arms, and long vines that sprouted from his head. He fashioned himself armor from the wood he grew from in admiration of the Susanoo. He was Madara’s favorite. He took that mimicry as flattery and wholeheartedly accepted his creations.

  One day, Hashirama explained to him that Wood Golems had the ability to breathe in carbon dioxide and produce oxygen, something necessary to feed a Susanoo’s flame. Madara then showed Hashirama that he could summon rain to feed the Wood Golems by breathing fire into the clouds. This got Madara to believe that together the Susanoo and Wood Golems could thrive. Before long, the number of Wood Golems rivaled that of the Susanoo.

The continent however could only sustain one group of titans. Their growing population and their reliance on the earth caused resources to become scarce. The Wood Golems needed the earth for their trees so that they could procreate. The Susanoo needed the earth to feed their fires and so, they were at odds. Thus, began a long era of warring between the two groups.

For years, The Land of Fire was ravaged by their battles. The forests were burnt, and the waters became black– laden with ash. The culmination of all the fighting occurred at Titan’s Rest, although it had yet to earn that name then.

Hashirama and Madara were the last of their kind. Although neither one wished for conflict, both had suffered heavy losses and neither would back down. Madara leveled the forest for hundreds of kilometers with one swing of his sword. The remnants of the burning trees are what became Titan’s Rest, but what truly made the place iconic was how the two ended their conflict.

At the center of Titan’s Rest stand the remains of the two colossal beasts locked in combat. The Susanoo, Madara, no longer burns– his black craggy core, exposed by his own sword piercing his chest, suffocated by Hashirama’s wooden tendrils. In his efforts to stop Madara from destroying the lush world he and the other Susanoo had worked so hard to create, Hashirama disarmed his friend. He then plunged the sword deep into the Susanoo’s chest and gave up all of his breath. It was that expulsion of all the stored carbon dioxide in Hashirama’s body that not only stopped Madara, but it also stopped Hashirama dead in his tracks.

Their pain contorted expressions, fading rock, and withered wood serve as a reminder of a world that could never have been. A dichotomy that could never be overcome. They have stood this way ever since and that is the story of Titan’s Rest.

[damien-wolfram-art]

The Uchiha Clan leader's slow descent into madness

"I longed for The Flame- stared into it for so long that I became blind to how it wounded me. Now, I can hardly see, and the fire is consuming me."

This is a submission for, @hashimada-week

@anannua hint hint

[damien-wolfram-art]

Ghost Can – and Will Dance at Weddings

A sequel to: “Ghosts Can’t Dance at Weddings”

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@hashimada-week

It was a beautiful spring day in The Uchiha village. The warm golden midday sun dappled through the rows of cherry blossom trees, yuinou wedding gifts, and outdoor speakers that framed a massive promenade. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the pink petals and carried their lightly sweet scent over the hundreds of guests gathered before a brazier that was situated beneath an ornately crafted torii gate.

Even with all the beauty and the pleasantness of the season, Hashirama had never felt so tense. He was standing just behind his younger brother, Tobirama. His wife, Mito, his parents, and his three children were situated behind him, but his attention was centered dead ahead where he sensed a growing bitter iciness. Izuna Uchiha would be coming from there, but instinct told him that it wasn’t Izuna he was sensing.

The gruff voice of Fugaku Uchiha, one of the longest standing members of the Uchiha Clan, announced the start of the procession over the speakers, shocking Hashirama to attention, “Welcome, honored guests, to this momentous occasion! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Izuna Uchiha and Tobirama Senju. Let us revel in the joy and love that fills the air!”

Ahead of his section, Hashirama sensed the chill growing closer. Izuna was approaching with a lit torch held close to his chest. He was positively radiant in its amber glow and Tobirama, who looked more exhausted than usual, even managed to perk up upon seeing him in his matching wedding kimono. Normally, seeing his brother light up this way would spark joy in Hashirama’s heart, but as the procession moved forward, Izuna and Tobirama turned to approach the torii gate together. Then, Hashirama saw him– Madara Uchiha.

The squealing flutes and staccato drum beat of live gagaku music accompanied the procession. Hashirama was late to his queue- too busy staring at the undead man whose sharingan red eyes looked right through him, leaving him feeling frozen to his spot. Before he knew it, he was over a meter behind and his wife, who was equally surprised by the appearance of the ghost, had to nudge her husband to get him moving. By then, he had to jog past the ghost’s mother to catch up and walk alongside him.

To the left of the procession, past Madara, were the many eyes of the Uchiha village; their wonderfully crafted gifts of tapestries and iron works were scattered all around them. To the right, although Hashirama certainly wasn’t paying much attention there, were the guests from The Leaf. They brought gifts of trees symbolizing growth and stability in a relationship as well as fruitful love lives. They brought sake barrels full of both sake and mochi to break open. Many of The Leaf’s denizens also brought gifts of honey wine: a delicacy the Senju had come across in their time as nomadic forest dwellers. It was said that after some heavy rain, water laden bee hives were harvested and that was the start of a Senju tradition. A gift of honey wine was a gift of hope for the couple to go on to live their lives in sweetness though some had snakes in the bottles. This imparted a different meaning. Many believed that the snakes would bestow their strength, stamina, and most importantly virility to their drinkers.

When the procession reached its destination past all the standing guests and the generous gifts, Hashirama looked to Madara again. He wanted to say something, but whenever he thought about speaking to him, his chest ached, and his words were trapped in his throat. There was a quiet murmur from the crowd– especially on the Uchiha side, but no one dared to interrupt the ceremonies. Hashirama and his family sat to the right of the brazier. Izuna’s family, Obito, and Fugaku’s family sat to the left. Tobirama and Izuna stood on their respective families’ sides of the brazier.

Another staccato drumbeat silenced the music and signaled the end of the procession. Fugaku approached from behind the couple, gesturing openly toward Hashirama as he began an important address, “Before we commence this sacred ceremony, it is essential to express our deepest gratitude and acknowledge the unwavering support of a beloved brother, Hashirama Senju. As Tobirama's elder brother, Hashirama has not only played an integral role in his life, helping Tobirama thrive even amidst challenging times, but has also made a generous goshugi contribution, making this wedding possible.”

Hashirama bowed awkwardly at the acknowledgement. While it was true that he had provided the funding for most of the ceremonies and that he loved his younger brother dearly, given the Madara shaped elephant in the room, he was rightly uncomfortable with receiving such high praise. He couldn’t help but look in Madara’s direction to see how he was taking it all. To his surprise, Madara seemed to care very little about him. The dark suited man was simply looking forward with a pleasant smile on his face.

Another drumbeat brought Hashirama to attention once more. Fugaku had his head bowed in reverence. Tobirama and Izuna followed suit. Then, the crowd did the same. “During this momentous occasion, we also take a moment to honor the memory of a cherished father, Tajima Uchiha. As Izuna's father and a former leader of our clan, Tajima's spirit lives on in all of our hearts. We know he would be immensely proud of the remarkable example Izuna has set for the Uchiha clan. Though he may not physically be with us today, his presence is felt, reminding us of the significance of family and the enduring bonds that transcend time,” Fugaku said with a serious and prideful tone.

Though his head was bowed, Hashirama’s eyes kept wandering to his left. Madara was playing along and miraculously, no one was questioning his attendance despite his life being lost over a year ago. He couldn’t fathom how his younger brother had pulled it off.

He remembered warning Tobirama time and time again that the dead were not to be trifled with. He had scolded him endlessly for having a god complex. He’d told him that a jutsu to bring back the dead would never work, and that people would start asking questions. He was wrong. 

Everyone raised their heads and Fugaku’s voice took on a slightly more uplifting tone; this was difficult for him since he was usually a very serious man, but he did his best, “Today, Izuna and Tobirama stand before us ready to embark on a journey of love, commitment, and shared dreams. For the Uchiha, fire is a powerful force that can cause great destruction, but it can also warm us, bring us together, and shelter us.”

Hashirama’s dark eyes widened at the mention of fire and guilt rose up within him, making him suddenly nauseous. “To share your Flame with another– it is to wholeheartedly accept them for all their flaws and to cast aside all judgements. It is to love them unconditionally with every fiber of your being. Furthermore, it is a promise to forever learn and improve together,” said Fugaku; Hashirama swallowed– hard.

 “As The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju, let us join together to celebrate their union and offer them our blessings, support, and well-wishes. May their love grow stronger with each passing day. May they find happiness, success, and fulfillment in one another. With joy and anticipation, let us commence this blessed wedding ceremony!”

Izuna was smiling when he passed the torch to Tobirama. Tobirama took his duty very seriously. As the flutes rang out again, he took the torch that was marked with a white and red tipped uchiwa fan, the crest of the Uchiha. With the utmost of care, he then held it over the brazier between them and it burst alight.

There was a musical flare before some silence. Then, Fugaku led the applause and said, “so, The Flame is passed from Uchiha to Senju! With this Flame, we recognize Tobirama as Uchiha. May this blazing brazier serve as a symbol of his acceptance into our clan!”

From there, the ceremony moved on. Hashirama was left feeling shell shocked. He clapped for a little too long and his wife needed to correct him again. Feeling her small hand rest on his thick forearm he looked down at it; understanding her concern, he apologized profusely and quietly.

Next, the couple of the hour began the ritual of San San Kudo. As a koto player from the Uchiha began plucking some strings, Fugaku moved to be seated and his wife, Mikoto, took his place, quietly filling the first of three sakazuki cups with three splashes of sake. Izuna graciously accepted the cup with a bow, raising and lowering it twice before drinking. He then returned it to Mikoto respectfully. She filled it in the same way once more and then passed it to Tobirama, who mirrored Izuna’s movements perfectly. During this first drink, the couple thought of their parents and the bonds that were made leading up to their union. During the second cup, they thought of their human flaws of hatred, passion and ignorance. For hatred, funnily enough, they thought of each other and their troubled pasts. For passion, Izuna thought of his brother, Madara; his passion had proven fatal after all. Tobirama however, was still thinking of Izuna and feeling only a little guilty about it. For ignorance they both thought of Hashirama and with the third cup they were released from these flaws.

If only Hashirama could have been so lucky. Instead, he had to endure what was admittedly a beautifully crafted sado tea ceremony hosted by Mikoto with all of the important seated guests; this included Madara who was sat directly across from him and maintained the same stoic aloofness that he had throughout the other ceremonies. After that, came the hiroen reception party, where those seated maintained their positions and partook of a meal consisting of some of the wedding couple’s favorite foods.

There was a bountiful spread of river fish, prawns, pickled vegetables, white rice, miso soup, sekihan– red bean rice (for good luck), inarizushi, more tea, honey wine, and of course sake. It was a filling and delicious meal. Still, Hashirama couldn’t help but feel like he was the only one uncomfortable around an eating, drinking, and talking corpse.

He typically loved these sorts of events, but at this one he found himself drinking in excess to cope with his discomfort. He was also uncharacteristically quiet which garnered the attention of his younger brother. Naturally, Tobirama was quite busy making sure Izuna was happy so addressing his elder brother’s discomfort would have to wait, but this didn’t stop him from noticing the glazed over look in Hashirama’s eyes even when the cake cutting was announced.

There was music playing again. It was louder, more jovial, and less traditional. The formalities were finally coming to an end.

Hashirama was fixated on Madara– his right leg bouncing with anxiety. To him the reception party felt as if it were underwater. He watched as Madara was served a slice, bowed courteously, and began to eat– all with a smile. At some point he too was served a slice, but when he didn’t touch it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Elder brother?”

The room suddenly got louder. Hashirama’s empty eyes turned to meet Tobirama’s compassionate red gaze. “Huh?”

“You haven’t touched the cake. Are you feeling well?” Asked Tobirama’s deeper voice quietly.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I must have just been lost in the moment.”

Tobirama rubbed at Hashirama’s larger shoulder and sighed, “I see. Care to join me for a walk then? I’d like the company and could use some freshening up. I’d hate to bother Izuna with such trifles when he’s having such a good time.”

Hashirama looked over at Izuna who was happily chatting with his mother and his revenant brother. He was beginning to feel sick again, so he opted to join Tobirama, “sounds good.”

The two walked some distance away from the reception party to a private spot amongst the cherry blossom trees before Tobirama stopped abruptly. “I know this is hard for you,” he began strictly, “but can you at least Try to consider how your behavior is being perceived?”

Hashirama was used to Tobirama getting frustrated with him, but after holding his tongue for so long he could no longer. “Tobirama,” he said in the tone he used when chastising him. “What did I say would come from this- this affront against nature? It’s no good. Can’t you see?”

“This “affront against nature” has made Izuna very happy. On this day he should have nothing but happiness! I see nothing wrong with that!”

“He’s a dead man Tobirama!”

Tobirama rubbed at the bridge of his nose and groaned, making quick rigid motions with his arms as he spoke, “I am very aware of that. I am aware that you were the one to make that happen. I am aware of his crimes against The Leaf, but right now none of that matters! Obito is here as well and so long as he disappears after the festivities are over, I have promised not to pursue him either! Both he and Madara share one thing in common: Izuna sees them as brothers. In the same way that Izuna has turned his eyes away from your transgressions, elder brother, so too must we!”

Hashirama went moon-eyed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he himself had imposed so much discomfort on Izuna. In one way or another, Izuna must have been harboring the same feelings toward him as he had toward Madara.

Settling into the thought, he bowed apologetically. “I understand,” he said. “Please forgive me for being so selfish.”

Tobirama placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder again and looked him deep in the eyes. “It’s just one day,” he reassured him. 

The consolation was enough for Hashirama to return to the reception party and eat his cake as it was wrapping up. Fugaku announced over the speakers that there would be an after-party with drinks and music. The guests who stood watching over the ceremonies were invited and their cheers could be heard far and wide.

The music began to play loudly over the speakers and the important seated guests began to trickle their way into the crowd. Seeking comfort in familiarity, Hashirama stood and followed the newlyweds down the promenade. When he was offered some sake, he even began to relax a little. Mingling with the crowd, he’d all but forgotten about-

Madara was approaching him and with some strong intent. The jaunty music shifted. The koto players began a slow and pining waltz in minor key. Hashirama met Madara’s confident sharingan for the first time all day and he was captivated.

“Shall we dance?” Asked the voice of a dead man.

Before he could register what he was agreeing to, Hashirama nodded and was swept away from his family by a firm cold hand that felt dry like handmade washi paper. Then, hand in hand, he could only follow Madara’s lead. The sharingan could not only read movements but could cause them in the right circumstances. In that moment, Hashirama was grateful for that fact. They moved as one, pushing away and coming together three slow and agonizing times. When they were close, Hashirama felt safe and supported in Madara’s strong arms. When they pushed apart, he longed for Madara’s embrace.

Then, Hashirama found himself spinning– one two three times. The dizzying maneuver only made his light inebriation and confusion more evident. Still, he noticed a pattern– movements of three. It was the Uchiha battle tradition. His heart began to race. His hands met Madara’s again only to be rolled outward and get caught at the end of Madara’s reach. He made an involuntary open gesture to match his dance partner and from there he could feel the judgmental gazes of the people in the crowd around him. Madara was making an example of him.

It felt like an eternity before he was rolled back into Madara’s arms. He wanted to just hide there– away from all the guilt and pain, but Madara sent him away again. There, everyone could see the man in the brown patchwork suit for the foolish, self-indulgent, shameful, liar of a man he was. The heat in his already alcohol flushed face increased. The following embrace felt so short in comparison and when he was sent away again, he could hardly stand it. His eyes stung as he tried to fight the rush of his emotions, but then, he was rolled in for the third time; Madara allowed Hashirama's momentum to continue, but he released him from his control. Because of this, Hashirama lost his balance. He reflexively gasped as his center of gravity rapidly approached the ground, but he was promptly snatched by the waist into a deep awkward dip. Briefly, time froze, and he took in all that was that moment with Madara Uchiha. His skin was dull and dry. It cracked on his face and hands. His mane was still impressive and lustrous however– a stark contrast to Hashirama’s tired looking faded brown locks. In his dark suit, crimson colored vest, tie, and with the cherry blossoms falling around them, Hashirama dared to think he was beautiful.

Then he remembered the crowd– his wife, his children. Madara leaned over and pulled him close. “I still have one more move, Hashirama,” he said.

Hashirama felt his heart rate pick up even more. The dip, the lean, and then what? What was Madara intending to do in front of so many people? Would he really go so far as to make that kind of example of him? Was it wrong that he wanted him to?

Madara whispered five words to him. Then, his heart sank. He helped him stand and walked away, leaving him stunned in front of everyone.

What do you think he told him?

@anannua Still kickin'! ~

[damien-wolfram-art]

The Power of the Senju

“Father, it’s been nearly a year since we left The Uchiha Village,” said Tobirama, taking in all of the new and unfamiliar faces cast in the orange glow of scattered fire pits around his small family. “Our group keeps growing and we haven’t found a place to settle in yet.”

Butsuma Senju, the aging leader of the group, took a long look at his albino teenage son. He had grown in their travels and fit better in his oversized clothes now. His concern was admirable; it meant that he was thinking hard about the longevity of his people. Still, Butsuma was obligated to put the boy’s fear to rest. “We’ll find it,” he reassured. “Until then, you and your brother need to grow strong. One of you will be our leader when we reach it.”

Tobirama nodded, then he turned his big red eyes to his elder brother, Hashirama, who also had grown significantly in their travels. He too fit into his denim clothes better now and was at least ten centimeters taller than Tobirama. His choppy brown hair was growing too. He often shook his head and blew his bangs to get them out of his face.

But it wasn’t just his body that had been growing. Hashirama had been worrying Tobirama as of late. Whenever the group needed to carry anything, Hashirama was the first on the job. This wouldn’t have been a problem if it weren’t for his massive chakra. He flared it whenever he felt strained and Tobirama seemed to be the only one in the group to notice it. Because of this, his father was of no assistance to him.

But Tobirama could feel it. It was like an oppressive force that assaulted his senses from every angle and because of his unease, Tobirama rushed to finish a jutsu he had been working on with his friend Izuna years ago. He based it on the elemental clones he’d seen many others use around him.

It started as a modification of his water clones. Though still experimental, he took every chance to try them out. It was a difficult jutsu to master. He was only capable of a few at first; these clones were special. They were tangible and acted as independent extensions of himself– capable of assisting with many of the groups gathering and hunting tasks. He called them “Shadow Clones”. 

Soon, they became a symbol of the Senju’s strength and ingenuity. Though their true nature had yet to show itself. More often than not, Tobirama used them to spy on his brother. 

Hashirama was easily distracted and prone to wandering after they had left The Uchiha Village. Although their group had a positive impression of him and he easily made friends with just about anyone, he was missing the Uchiha. Worried that his brother might wander too far, Tobirama sent a clone to confront Hashirama. “Elder brother?” He called.

Hashirama, who was standing at the bed of a rushing river, looked back at the image of his younger brother surprised. “Tobirama? I thought you were with father.”

“I am.”

A look of understanding came over Hasirama’s wet brown eyes. “Oh, I see,” he whispered, tilting his head down and biting at his lip. “That’s some jutsu you have there.”

“I worked hard on it.”

“Would you…teach me?”

“To make shadow clones?”

“O-or you could show me some of your water style techniques!”

The clone contemplated the request, noting the water rushing behind Hashirama. “Sure.”

“R-Really?! Okay so I have this idea!” Hashirama came to life again, gesturing in wide arches with his arms as he spoke, “If I could part the river and Then use the earth style father taught me to build a bridge, then it would be super easy to cross back and forth here!”

Now, he could see it– Hashirama’s ambition. His father must have seen it too. That’s why he had been personally training him. “It’s so our villages can easily visit each other, isn’t it?” The clone asked and Hashirama nodded sheepishly– humbled that a clone of his brother could read him so flawlessly. “Okay then, let's get started,” said the clone. “But this won’t be easy!”

Hashirama knew it wouldn’t be, though he also possessed the largest pool of chakra his brother had ever felt so he wouldn’t quit easily either. The two got to work quickly. Sometimes Tobirama left him with a clone, and other times he personally oversaw their training, growing stronger alongside him. In just a few short months Hashirama felt ready. 

“C’mon even if it’s just as a clone you Have to see this! I parted the river! Now, all I have to do is build the bridge at the same time,” Hashirama begged one afternoon, tugging over a clone.

“Okay okay slow down!”

“Father is gonna be so impressed! You will be too!”

When they arrived at the riverbank, it looked quite different from how it appeared when they began their training. Although they had traveled up and down its banks, they had always returned to the same spot to train. Ironically, the river looked wider due to the rushing water of Hashirama’s attempts to cut across it, but Tobirama knew better than to doubt him by now. If he said he was ready, then he was ready.

Watching his elder brother preparing himself he braced for the surge of chakra, and it hit him like a train. Then, his bright eyes became very alert. Something was wrong.

In trying to use two jutsu in tandem, Hashirama had created something violently destructive. The older of the two brothers roared as his raging chakra ravaged the landscape with twisting tendrils of oaken roots. He was not in control.

Everything went black for the clone, and at that moment, it revealed its true nature to its caster. With his father, the real Tobirama suddenly grew paler with the recollection of his fallen clone’s memory. “Please, excuse me,” he said, rushing out toward the woods. When he reached his destination, he found his brother seated on the opposite side of the river–exhausted and grinning.

Between the two of them, spanning the width of the river, was what appeared to be a winding bundle of trees bent forcibly into the rough shape of a bridge. It was then that Tobirama knew. Hashirama would be the leader of The Senju Village and he would forever be his keeper.

@anannua Before The Leaf, After The Uchiha Village

[damien-wolfram-art]

Breath

“I know it hurts, Tobirama, but can you please, Please try to drink?” Hashirama pleaded. On a bedroll before him, was the broken form of his last remaining younger brother. His thin pale lips were blue from struggling to draw breath.

It had been like this for over an hour. Hashirama’s strong limbs ached from the force of his chakra being channeled into his hands in his repeated attempts to heal the damage Tobirama had been dealt from inhaling fire in a recent battle with their clan’s greatest rivals, the Uchiha. He didn’t let the pain stop him though.

Pressing his knees into the hard wooden floor even more than before, Hashirama leaned over his brother and let his green glowing hands hover over his throat. The superficial burns there were mostly gone now, but Hashirama knew most of the problem was tucked away from his sight.

Minutes passed. He wiped a bead of sweat from his worry wrinkled brow with the long navy sleeve of his undershirt and exhausted, sat back on the balls of his feet once more. His deep-set brown eyes began to lose hope as his brother’s chest continued to toil away at the now laborious task that was normal breathing. “I understand. This must be very difficult for you, “he resigned but his sad gaze was met by a determined red glare. Up until recently, Tobirama was unresponsive when his elder brother spoke to him. It made Hashirama feel guilty to see that even in his run-down state, Tobirama felt it necessary to scold him. “Y-you’re right,” he ceded, “It isn’t like me to give up so easily. You are my little brother after all.”

With newly found confidence, Hashirama picked up a small cup full of a medicinal liquid. “In that case, I’m going to need you to drink this,” he demanded, bringing it to Tobirama’s cold lips. The frail white-haired man drank slowly, but even this pleased Hashirama.

As soon as he drank enough, Hashirama went back to work. His tired tan hands worked up their green glow once more and his long brown hair swayed with the motions of his body as he manipulated the liquid to heal the damage from the inside. Slowly, Tobirama’s breathing stabilized.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll never give up on you again. I promise to stay by your side. Will you forgive me?” Hashirama begged when his brother was finally in the clear.

“You idiot,” was all the answer he needed.

[damien-wolfram-art]

A Fish Out of Water

Tobirama sighed wistfully, resting his head heavily into his work roughened palm. His heart felt sunken with a longing that up until recently, he had never experienced. He looked past his fish stand at the deeply forested boundary of the village that he and his family had stopped in for the season. “Did you see the way she looked at me?” Asked the young fishmonger to his older brother. The two of them had just begun cleaning up what remained of the day’s sales. “It’s as if those dark eyes could encapsulate my very soul. She took one look at me, and I swore she really understood me. All this time– in all our travels, never once have I been so- so,” dropping the last wet bucket into the stack of others, Tobirama found the right words, “captivated. Everything about her felt …designed. To. Reel. Me. In.” Tobirama paced a few steps back and forth on the dirt road before gripping into the rim of a fish barrel as if it were grounding him– keeping him from acting upon his most carnal instincts. His brother, Hashirama, only watched him pityingly– knowingly. When the heated moment passed, Tobirama dragged his thin fingers through his coarse white hair; it had been a while since he’d washed, making his connection with the gypsy woman even more of a surprise to him.

“You know I am quite the fisherman, so I know all the tricks, but I have never felt Myself so hooked on the end of a line,” he groaned, lifting the barrel with some apparent effort. His sturdy brother took it from him and motioned with his head back to the smaller and lighter stack of buckets. As he moved ahead, his long brown hair trailed behind him in a gentle breeze.

Tobirama obeyed his brother, grateful for the assistance. Grabbing hold of the stack, he continued to recount his encounter, “you saw what she was wearing too? Those pants could hardly contain her! And the way her midriff was exposed, ugh!” His legs sped up as his desire grew. “The tassels and jewelry were also a nice touch. What I wouldn’t do to give her a nice- … Elder brother?”

Hashirama was lagging behind with the heavier gear. “Ah sorry. You were just moving so quickly, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he apologized.

Tobirama shook his head, backpedaling to his brother. “Nevermind that. I’ll slow down.” He adjusted his hold on the buckets and settled into a slower pace. “Where was I? Ah, yes, her silky black hair was just… beautiful. She was wearing a mask too if I’m not mistaken. You could see through it if you looked closely,” the lovestruck young man nearly swooned. “Her lips looked so… kissable,” he trailed off and his brow wrinkled in thought.

Hashirama too had never seen his brother so enamored. Their walk home was punctuated by Tobirama’s mumbling and when they arrived at the place they were calling home for the time being, the younger brother spoke up again, “I should have kissed her. I should have swept her away and told her how she has influenced me. Perhaps I should go look for her. She might still be around, and this might be my only chance. Who knows? Things might work with this one. I mean, think of the children we could make-”

“Tobirama,” Hashirama said sternly. There was a seriousness in his normally welcoming brown eyes.

“What is it?”

“I don’t mean to ruin this moment of yours, there was one crucial detail you didn’t notice.”

“What detail?”

“Well…” Hashirama hesitated. It was not a strong suit of his to break bad news.

“Spit it out already,” insisted Tobirama impatiently.

Hashirama had no choice but to tell him, “that was no woman.”

Tobirama’s red eyes opened wide, his blood ran cold, and his pale cheeks somehow grew hot.

[damien-wolfram-art]

Izuna Week 2024 Day 7 - Birthday/Free Day @izunaweek

Super huge thank you to my very very lovely @damien-wolfram-art for not only helping me finally get this comic done, but also writing extra scenes and some wonderful writing to go along with this comic!!

Speaking of extras, you should totally not only check out what he wrote but take a little looksie below the cut 👀

okay so I want to talk more about this comic and it feels more appropriate to ramble below the cut.

I started the roughest of drafts for this back in 2022 and just.. left it - as many artists do with their WIPs. But this one is a small part of this massive Naruto dystopian AU that @damien-wolfram-art have worked on for years now. We have... SO MUCH CONTENT FOR IT. like... really. we do. It's just about making and putting it out there and honestly, I can't wait to start making more of it. not only that, but I really want to like whole-ass color this one at some point. I think it deserves it. I just love this AU so much. okay. ramble over. thank you for reading this if you have. here's a gift for reading 🌸

[damien-wolfram-art]

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@izunaweek

PROLOGUE

Everything was a blur. One moment there was pain. Next, there was weightlessness and a warm pleasant light. Next, the sudden jolt of weight returning and the feeling of cloth on skin woke him. It was dim in the room and there was a howling wind outside. There was someone there. His white fluffy hair and pale skin were a stark contrast to his shadowy wedding Kimono.

He was busy fussing over his newest project. His voice was deep and quick when he mumbled something incoherent to himself. He rushed over and began to adjust something– a tie.

“What’s going on?” Asked the man wearing it.

“No time. You’re going to a wedding. Can you stand?”

“Ghosts Can’t Dance at Weddings”

Izuna Uchiha was a very busy man most days. His work often left him rushing from one side of his village to the other and back, but despite this, he always made time for his family. “Hey everyone! Sorry I’m late today!” He puffed apologetically as he hurried up to the rooftop Shinto shrine.

In his hands he carried a heavy bag that made his smaller frame sway from side to side as he moved with it. Nearing the altar, he hefted the bag down and began to fuss with its contents. “I know I’ve taken over as temporary leader before, but a little warning on just how MUCH work it is when I’m doing it full-time would’ve been nice! ~” He teased, only half taking in the names on the dishes that held five memorial candles.

Pulling out a large cauldron of rice, he spoke earnestly and softly, “It is a special day for me, so I hope you’ll all forgive me for bringing only rice.” It was only when the man dressed in a dark freshly pressed wedding kimono knelt down and spread five bowls out before himself, that he looked at each name on the memorial altar. His heart suddenly felt as if it were clasped in the strong armored grip of his clan’s fabled Susanoo. “I wish you all could be here, but ghosts can’t really dance at weddings,” he whispered somberly.

Shifting his tone to sound more cheerful, he first addressed his father, Tajima Uchiha. He was the clan leader who died over fifteen years prior while protecting his village from the attack of a massive and unruly nine-tailed fox. “Father, you’d be proud to know that I’ve kept all the Uchiha of our village happy and safe!” Izuna told him, lighting his candle with the smallest of flames produced by his fingertips and filling a bowl of rice. Then, he gently pushed it into place. 

He sat up a little straighter and his gaze shifted to the four others at the altar. His eyes began to sting as he methodically lit the candles and served the first three– the three that his clan’s traditions had deemed unfit for life at the end of his own blade. “Oh, and brothers, I’ve still been making sure to train as often as I can. I wouldn’t want all of our hard work when we were young or the gifts you gave me to be for naught.”

Feigning pride, Izuna continued, pushing the three bowls into place. “Many of the other Uchiha are actually saying that my eyes are the strongest in the entire village! And-” His sweet voice cracked as he quickly whisked a tear away from his right eye. His brothers would’ve hated to see him cry. “I owe it to all of you!” he concluded. Then, his eyes finally fell upon the memorial of the last of his brothers to leave him.

“Ah, only one more left,” he started quietly, prepping the last bowl. “It still feels odd to bring food for you here…”

“Madara…”

Izuna’s thoughts were swiftly steered in the direction of those fateful days when his life changed, and his last surviving brother was snatched away from him. Although Madara was undoubtedly the strongest in their clan and the clan leader at the time, his condition had been rapidly declining. Overuse of his sharingan eyes to assist their long-time allies, the Senju, in their hunt for their lost Nine Tails jinchuriki host had caused his vision to deteriorate such that he saw no choice but to abandon his village and to make one last appeal to the man he thought of as his soulmate for nearly thirty years. 

The Uchiha had a concept of love so powerful that it transcended reason. This type of love was called the Uchiha’s “Flame”. Madara had felt such a Flame with the leader of The Leaf Village, Hashirama Senju. That man had promised Madara his heart decades ago, but fate had twisted their desires. This left Madara desperate and wanting. With his hope all but diminished, Madara decided to give his Flame one more chance to spark to life, so he approached Hashirama in the same sporting way that they had always communicated– with combat. But this time, Madara was unaffiliated with The Uchiha Village and there would be more at stake than just their feelings.

Like Izuna, Madara knew his chances were slim. "There is a high likelihood that I won’t return from this fight. In that case, I’d like it if you’d take over as Village Leader,” Izuna remembered his older brother saying. It tore him up inside to hear him so broken. Part of him wished he had begged him not to go, but he understood that Madara needed to follow his heart even if it led him to his grave.

He’d plenty of time to consider the outcome. Madara had given him ample warning, but in spite of that, the news was devastating. When Hashirama came to deliver it along with the scroll containing Madara’s body, his eyes were cast in the shadow of his brows and his long choppy brown hair looked limper than ever. Izuna had never wanted to destroy someone more, but Madara’s desire for Izuna to keep the peace between their two villages made Izuna hold himself back– no matter how it pained him. He would never want to dishonor his brother’s decision to depart his own village in order to keep it safe from his selfish actions.

“Madara is…” Izuna recalled the shameful murderous idiot from The Leaf Village's pitiful unfinished attempt at breaking the news and his blood boiled. The monkey-faced Senju’s inability to own up to his actions made his teeth clench just as they did that day. 

The wind picked up and blew out Madara’s candle. The chill brought Izuna back into the moment. The tears in his eyes had just about reached the point where they were about to well over. “It has been some time since I received the news, but still…” The first few tears hit the concrete of the roof below him as he shakily picked up the last bowl of rice. “Maybe I’m a little selfish for wanting this,” he whispered. “I am a “Dirty Brother Killer” after all…” He began to tremble. “So, what kindness should I receive in return for my past actions?” He swallowed hard. “But I-I…”

He could hold back no longer. “I REALLY WISH YOU MADE IT BACK!” He wailed, shaking his head from side to side so that the wind caught in his long dark hair and his tears broke free from his face.

“It looks like your wish might have come true,” spoke a familiar deep and sultry voice.

Behind Izuna was someone he could only describe as a ghost. His skin was a faded gray, his sclerae were dark, and his face was cracked in a few places. His presence and Uchiha blue mane were unmistakable though. He was wearing a suit adorned with a branched metal broach in the shape of the Senju clan’s sigil. It was Madara Uchiha– the very brother he was mourning. He stood there with crossed arms and a soft smile.

EPILOGUE

Some distance away from the memorial site, in a soot-colored wedding kimono of his own, stood Tobirama Senju. His red eyes were more sunken in than usual and his hands were clapped together; he was sweating. “It feels like the formula is holding. I just hope I can keep it up,” said the white-haired man to his brother, Hashirama, who stood beside him in a patchwork suit. His olive skin that normally set him apart from his albino brother was looking a little pale. He couldn’t help but feel as if the wind had suddenly become uncharacteristically cold for the season as it blew from behind them through the torii gate he’d crafted for the wedding. His brows furrowed with nervous discomfort.

@anannua I am alive! ~ @flawlessstriker and I worked super hard to get this part of this wonderful AU to where it is and we're super proud of it. Perhaps one day it will be in ~COLOR! ~

[damien-wolfram-art]

A Nest Built for Two

Menma wiped the sweat from his brow as he twisted one of the hundreds of twigs and vines he’d meticulously gathered into place. “There!” He said, looking over the giant nest he’d built in the corner of his bedroom while dusting his hands off against each other. “A nest fit for a Taka.”

He rested his hands on his hips proudly. “I’m ready for you, partner.”

Just then, his dark-haired mother, Musubi Uchiha, stepped into the room. “Men-ma?” She called, covering her mouth in surprise at her son’s project. “What are you doing honey? Is that a nest?” She asked, fighting a proud smile because she knew he’d be embarrassed.

The whiskers on Menma’s cheeks grew wild and his face flushed anyway. “Mamaaaa!”

“I’m sorry, honey. It looks great!” She praised, but he ran at her, pushing her out of the room.

“Get. Out!”

The door slammed behind her, and she slid down it, smiling with jubilation. On the other side, her teenage son did the same. It was an Uchiha rite of passage to partner up with one of the sacred avian humanoid creatures who shared their village known as the Taka and it was no secret that Menma was excited to finally partner up with one of his own.

The following day, he would get his chance. He entered The Aviary in the village’s center, wearing only a few leather straps wrapped around his arms for protection. This worried Musubi, but if he was anything like his mother, then he would be a natural; a Taka would recognize his worth and the two would bond quickly.

As Menma walked deeper into The Aviary, he saw Taka of all shapes and sizes. All of them were impressive. Most of them ignored him, but some eyed the small human in their domain with skepticism.

“They must be allowing any human to enter nowadays,” grumbled one from high up on a hoodoo-like rock formation. 

“For sure. I mean what is he? Twelve?” Said another.

“I bet he just learned to walk!”

The duo laughed and Menma gritted his fanged teeth. He grabbed hold of the strapping on his left forearm and snapped, shifting the pitch of his voice deeper to sound more imposing, “oh yeah?! Why don’t you come down here and find out!”

A third voice responded from ground level, “you really shouldn’t pick fights, pipsqueak.”

Menma looked in the direction of the new voice and saw a Taka not too much bigger than himself taunting him. “Who you callin’ pipsqueak!” He yapped.

The Taka shrugged with the confidence of an adolescent, prancing his massive red talons around the small human and spreading his nearly three-meter oil-slick colored wings. “You look like pretty small game to me,” he teased.

Menma grounded himself with a wide stance, looked the Taka dead in his glowing red eyes and growled, “want to test that?”

Looking a Taka in the eyes was an unignorable challenge. The young Taka’s pride was on the line, so he took the bait. He flapped his tremendous wings and dove at the human talons first.

In one swift movement, Menma slipped off one of his long leather straps and wrapped it around the young Taka’s strong ankles. He pulled down hard, grounding the creature. There was a murmuring from all around them. The cockatoo-like crest of feathers on the grounded Taka’s head raised as he struggled to regain his balance.

“What’s wrong? I thought I was a pipsqueak?” 

“Tch…”

“So did I do it?” Menma asked, running around to his front. “Did I impress ya?”

A trio of fully grown Taka approached Menma. One had long straight brown hair and seemed to have a permanent frown carved into his face. He had a female Taka on his arm who had similar silky dark hair to Menma’s mother. The last looked like an older version of the one he’d captured with longer dark hair drawn into a ponytail and deep eyebags.

“Did he, Sasuke?” Asked the man with brown hair.

The adolescent Taka responded, “I…”

“You’ve chosen a partner?” Asked the woman, brimming with joy.

Sasuke was under a lot of pressure. These were his parents after all, but none of their opinions mattered more than the final Taka to speak, his brother, Itachi. “I approve,” said the older brother briskly and Sasuke resigned to his fate.

The young Taka returned his gaze to the human. “Very well. I accept your worth. Since you are my human, what do I call you?”

“Menma. And you? Sasuke, right?”

“Correct. I am Taka Sasuke. Release me.”

Menma knelt down to do just that. From there he got very acquainted with Sasuke’s talons. He imagined just how easily they could pierce him and for the first time of many, he was grateful that Sasuke was on his side.

The two then left The Aviary together and Sasuke suddenly felt very small compared to the world outside. He took off into the sky without Menma’s command and marveled at the village below. Eventually, Menma reeled his Taka in and brought him home. There, he was praised profusely for his show of strength in The Aviary for he had brought a great honor to his family and a new Taka to protect their people.

Sasuke however, needed a bit more coaxing to feel as if he was welcome. Musubi’s Taka, Takami, was kind to him. He was a handsome Taka with side swept black hair and pretty angled eyes. He had settled in with the family long ago and had a strong bond with Musubi. He was loyal, protective, and had an air of maturity to him that reminded Sasuke of his own older brother.

“Menma’s a good kid,” he reassured Sasuke quietly after dinner before they parted ways. “You made a good choice with ‘im.”

Sasuke nodded, following Menma to his room where he came to the discovery that human nests were weird. He couldn’t get over how stifling they were, but when he entered Menma’s room something felt different. There was one thing there that was distinctly non-human– the nest.

He gravitated to it naturally and Menma watched over him curiously. “Did Takami make this?” He asked.

Menma frowned. “No…I did.”

Sasuke was surprised. He didn’t know humans made nests. “I see…”

“It’s for you,” Menma clarified when Sasuke didn’t enter it.

The young Taka nodded and stepped in. The nest was made masterfully for a human made nest with both sturdy and warm materials. It was also large enough for him and another to occupy. He sat comfortably in it and settled down to roost.

Menma followed suit, lying in bed and turning out the lights. Come morning, he was hit with an unpleasant surprise. Sticks and other debris were scattered all over his room. The nest that he had worked so hard to perfect was in shambles. “Sasukeee?” Menma called to him, trying not to sound angry.

The Taka peeked out from his nest that now sported higher walls. “Yeah?”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“My room…it’s a mess.”

Sasuke looked around the room. He didn’t understand what Menma meant. To his Taka eyes, sticks and nesting materials were a given in any living space. “Looks fine to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said it looks fine…”

Menma stared at the Taka blankly. Was he messing with him? Sasuke was the only person who could have made the mess wasn’t he? His confusion gave way to rage, and he slammed his fist down onto the bed, startling his avian partner. “You have got to be kidding me!” He shrieked.

Sasuke’s crown raised and his wing feathers ruffled. “What?”

“Ughhh forget it!” Menma groaned, ruffling his scrappy dark hair. It took a while to clean up his room again. It would not be the last time he would have to either.

For months, he would struggle with Sasuke’s instincts. He’d try to dismiss them as growing pains because in all other areas of their relationship they were getting quite close, but over time Sasuke’s nesting behaviors began to feel personal. It almost felt as if Sasuke had something out for him. 

Menma’s emotional turmoil culminated into one big explosion one day when he caught Sasuke in the act. His normally near black plumage had been shifting to bright blues, purples, and even greens, but Menma wouldn’t be distracted by his looks no matter how beautiful he was. He’d done it again. He’d wrecked the nest Menma had worked so hard to build for him and now he was stealing some of Menma’s bedding too.

“Ok, that’s it. What the hell are you even doing, Sasuke!?” Menma barked.

Sasuke flinched at the sudden outburst. His foot closed involuntarily and forcefully on the pillow in its grasp. “Ah Menma I-I thought you were grabbing groceries for Musubi.” He stammered as he struggled to kick off the pillow that was impaled on his talons.

Menma’s eyes narrowed on him. “I was,” he began. “But I was going to pick up more nesting materials and needed a better look at the nest…looks like You already took things into your own talons…” He stomped over and snatched the pillow from him.

“Menma wait-”

“Why should I?!” Menma shouted. “If you hate what I made for you so much, then why don’t you just say something?! Why do you have to wreck everything!?”

“Menma it’s not what you think,” Sasuke tried to clarify. “I’m not trying to wreck it. I’m trying to make it comfortable.”

“I didn’t make it comfortable enough for you so you’re taking my stuff?”

Sasuke nearly groaned. Humans were complicated and stupid sometimes. “That’s not it either…”

“Then what Is it!?”

“I’m trying to make it comfortable for you.” 

Menma’s deep blue eyes glistened with disbelief. “What?” He asked. “S-say that again-”

“Menma…” Sasuke whispered soothingly. “I did all this for you.”

“B-but why?”

“Because you’re my human,” Sasuke answered, though he furrowed his brow shortly after, realizing that there was more to what he meant than what he said. He knew Menma wouldn’t understand so he tried harder, “…but it’s not just that. You mean a lot to me Menma. I chose you as my partner– my human, but I’ve been thinking. We don't only have to assist each other in battle or in hunting and gathering. You made this nest big enough for two and I think-” He sighed, blushing when he felt his feathers standing on end from fear and excitement, “I think I want you in it, Menma.”

Menma dropped the pillow he was clutching, and Sasuke smiled sweetly at his confused partner who only a moment ago was angry to the point of tears. “So, whaddaya say, Men-ma~” He prodded beckoningly while nuzzling into the nest.

“You’re a moron, y’see!” Menma cried, rushing into Sasuke’s welcoming embrace.

Sasuke held him gently like the fragile thing he was and stroked at his back while he complained about how indirect Sasuke had been. When Menma finally got it all out, Sasuke asked, “so is it comfortable?”

Menma grabbed the discarded pillow from before and tucked it under himself. “Perfect,” he answered.

Sasuke laughed and echoed, “perfect,” knowing that perfection was a moving target when it came to nest making. He then laid a kiss on Menma’s lips for the first time. 

From then on, nest building became a joint activity. Menma no longer mistook Sasuke’s instincts for affronts to their partnership. The two worked together to make the best nest they could, and their bond grew stronger for it. Sasuke trusted Menma completely and Menma reciprocated those feelings.

The nest went from one fit for a Taka to one fit for a Taka and his human very quickly. It had a sturdy base of sticks and twine. It had high walls so that what was inside was secure, but it also sported the soft cushy materials of a human’s bed. Hardly any sticks showed past the blankets and pillows they had incorporated into the design. It was so comfortable that Menma slept in it almost every night, but it wasn’t the nest he was there for.

He was most comfortable when cuddling in Sasuke’s arms and feeling him gently petting him. One night, he decided to return the favor, running his fingers through Sasuke’s bright plumage.  “Are you alright?” Menma asked, feeling him shudder beneath his touch.

“That feels nice,” Sasuke answered, melting from the mutual preening.

Menma sighed with contentment as Sasuke’s feathers breathed in time with his scritching. They laid there curled up with each other for a long while just enjoying the other’s company until Sasuke spoke up again, “hey, Menma?” His hand moved from Menma’s back to his hip and his thumb rubbed circles there. “Do you think we could kiss for a bit?”

Menma’s cheeks warmed. He cleared his throat and adjusted in the nest receptively to place himself nearly beneath Sasuke while wrapped in the nest’s curvature. Sasuke smiled, moved over top of Menma carefully, and captured his lips without so much as another word.

Within only a couple of minutes, they were breathless. Sasuke’s glowing eyes looked into Menma’s and he could see their star pattern reflected there. Menma looked good like that. It made Sasuke hope that the legends were true about Taka and their partners. If they were, then all Menma and he had to do was continue to deepen their bond. Then, Menma could gain the same powers of sight as Sasuke.

While Sasuke was lost in his thoughts, Menma pulled his partner in for another breath stealing kiss. When they parted, Menma whispered huskily, “you wanna do more?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened and he nodded keenly. That was what all of his preparations were for. That was what the nest was for.

He allowed his shaky hands to explore his human partner in a way that they never had before. Menma was usually pretty stubborn especially when it came to making decisions in battle, but here was different. He bent and formed around Sasuke’s touch. When Sasuke opened up his shirt, Menma pouted cutely, but he allowed Sasuke to inspect him, gasping when the Taka’s fingers neared his intimate areas, but he never stopped him. When he played with the two pink beads on Menma’s chest, Menma moaned for him and raised his hips.

So, Sasuke explored there too. His hands ran down Menma’s wanting body and his fingers crept under his waistband. Menma squirmed; he was ticklish. But there was something more at play. He was beginning to pitch a tent in his pants.

Sasuke eyed the protuberance with a pitying smile. “May I?” He asked, still playing with the hem of Menma’s tight pants.

Menma fought a groan of embarrassment, “j-just do it…” His face wasn’t getting any cooler.

Sasuke obliged. When Menma was free, he could feel his relief. His human relaxed into the nest and finally, Sasuke touched him between his legs. At first, Menma jumped, but Sasuke was careful with him. He was very curious to get to know all of Menma so he was slow and deliberate.

Menma moaned again and Sasuke began to recognize his own desires growing. Each time Menma moved, Sasuke wanted to move with him. Pushing aside the flaps of his blue kimono jacket to access himself under his pleated tan shorts, Sasuke did indeed join him. He got so lost in the sensation that his hand on Menma nearly stopped entirely.

“Are you…touching yourself?” Menma asked, snapping Sasuke back to attention.

“I’m sorry, kitten,” Sasuke half moaned. “You’re just so tempting~”

Menma’s eyes sharpened on him before he hooked his hips with his leg. Their pelvises met and it was made very clear to Sasuke that Menma wasn’t going to play second fiddle to the Taka’s desires. Sasuke laughed, “alright alright I get it.” Menma really was stubborn, and he loved him for it.

Instead of touching them both separately, he decided that he’d keep them both together. They worked best as a team after all. He freed himself from his bottoms and grinded down on Menma. They were both fairly new to this behavior, so it didn’t take long to get them both panting and throbbing. Then, Sasuke experienced yet another new sensation. Both of them were leaking and their combined slickness made grinding so much easier. It felt amazing.

Instinctively, Sasuke wanted more. Slipping his member beneath Menma’s, he prodded his entrance. Menma moaned lustfully and relaxed under Sasuke’s pressure. Feeling welcome, Sasuke took his chance and Menma embraced his length fully. He was tight even though up until now he was quite relaxed, and Sasuke was barely ready for it. They both groaned as they acclimated to the new sensations, but Sasuke couldn’t wait for long. His natural tendencies dictated that he peg away at Menma and Menma received him gladly, although he did have to make an active effort to loosen up.

All the while, Sasuke made sure Menma’s member felt just as well loved as he was. The couple’s excitement grew in tandem, but Menma was just a little faster and just a little more impatient. Sasuke couldn’t blame him. He was feeling Sasuke from two directions, and he couldn’t help it if it was pushing him over the edge.

So, Sasuke let Menma have his climax. He deserved it. And while Menma was deep in the throes of ecstasy, Sasuke finished as well– deep inside his human.

The following minute was a blur for Sasuke. Somehow, he’d managed to scoop Menma up the wall of their nest and had him placed nearly in his lap. Menma’s fingers were pressed firmly into the base of his wings, and they were both breathing heavily.

“Sasuke, that was-”

“Wild?”

“Hell yeah, we should-”

“Do it more often?”

Menma softened before whispering breathlessly, “that’s my Taka.”

@anannua Ask and you shall receive...

I will not apologize for lateness or the inclusion of Menma. I had waaaaay to much fun with this and it took forever, but I'm proud.

LOOK AT IT!

@narutokinktober

@bitchbot3000

[damien-wolfram-art]

Naruto Kinktober 2023 Day 3 - Ninshu - Watersports - Immobilize

@narutokinktober

👇Bonus down there👇

I present, a tiny Zuna being stopped by Tobi. Izuna causes Tobi more trouble than he can handle most days. A bit of an old doodle, but it's from the same AU.

[damien-wolfram-art]

How Far We’ve Come

Sasuke nuzzled deep into the musky warm sweetness that was his lover’s scent as they cuddled on his couch. Naruto returned the favor by burying his face into Sasuke’s long straight dark hair and laid a kiss there, smelling deeply. There, Sasuke had a scent that was somewhere between spicy and astringent. “You smell nice, baby,” Naruto cooed in a way that made Sasuke roll his eyes and ignore his endearing idiocy for the television. They were watching some episodes of the first show they had ever performed in together, Naruto. It had been a while since they had done that.

They had reached a climactic trio of episodes that would ultimately lead to Sasuke’s hiatus in the show. Sasuke thought back on how worried he was back then. He genuinely believed that the hiatus would ruin any chance he had at Naruto and yet, there he was smooching all over his head and humming contently with him in his arms. He’d really been worried for nothing, but back then, it felt like everything to him.

“You did your own stunts for these episodes,” Naruto whispered, watching their younger selves clashing on the screen. His lips curled playfully. “Were you trying to impress me?”

Sasuke blushed deeply. Naruto had him pegged perfectly. “I-”

“You were, weren't you!”

Sasuke kept watching– silently. His thoughts were loud though. He and Naruto both knew that putting his body at risk wasn’t a part of Sasuke’s normal method. Sasuke had taken a page out of both Naruto and his character’s book in order to try to convey his feelings during the many shoots that encompassed the fight at The Valley of the End.

“Well, it worked,” Naruto admitted.

Sasuke jolted and looked at Naruto with surprise. “It did?” He asked.

Naruto’s face grinned at him; he’d aged quite a bit since those shoots, but he was still very handsome to Sasuke even with his thinning blond hair. “Yeah, it did! You were awesome! I’d never seen someone take my method so seriously before! I kept thinking about it all the time!” He exclaimed.

Sasuke felt his heart throb. He was pulled back suddenly to his teenage days when all he wanted was his chance at Naruto. He’d been so naive back then– just like his character and for once, Sasuke felt like the idiot.

Then he remembered, he had Naruto– all of Naruto. He paused the show and threw himself on top of his dumbfounded lover. Their lips crashed into one another, and Naruto moaned into Sasuke’s mouth eagerly.

When he pulled away, Naruto was breathless, but not breathless enough. “Choke me,” he whispered and waited impatiently for his lover to oblige. When he wasn’t fast enough, he begged, “pleeeeease!” sending chills up Sasuke’s spine.

Sasuke couldn’t deny him after that. He wrapped his smaller hands around Naruto’s thick neck and squeezed; it was a familiar feeling by now; they’d been together for over a decade. “You’re such a dirty idiot,” he degraded, knowing it would only excite Naruto more.

It worked. Naruto bucked up at him predictably. The rest of the episode would have to wait. They wanted each other, now.

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[damien-wolfram-art]

Aesthetic Sacrifice

The Stone Village, or what was left of it, after The Tailed Beast attacks, was a sequestered historical site deep in the mountains of The Land of Earth. Most of the structures that remained were made of a special blue durable material that could only be produced through a ceremonial process that had been repeated throughout The Stone’s questionable history. This process is what created the monument that stood at the center of the village.

They called it, The Heart of Stone. Three small azure earthen humanoid shapes made up the monument. Once human themselves, they now stood frozen in time with their arms outspread and heads tilted back– maws open. The one in the center continuously swallowed ground gray stone that poured from the mountain above. From the ceremonially augmented mouths on his hands and chest billowed a blue material that could be further processed to form the most durable of structures. It pooled like glistening blue blood in a vast basin below.

In front of the trio, a new pedestal had been recently erected. Before it, watching The Blood of Stone’s unending flow with wet blue eyes, stood Deidara, dressed in a similarly colored kimono jacket.  His matching hand mouths were completely functional and the mouth on his chest was almost fully developed. He was only days away from his thirteenth year. On that day, he would stand atop the newest pedestal. His sacrifice would secure The Stone’s future for another one hundred years.

Ten meters away, Kurotsuchi watched over Deidara cheerlessly. His silky long blond hair blew in a light breeze behind him. He’d been growing into a rather handsome teenager– one who she had grown quite fond of in her years as his guardian. If only things had gone another way and he’d not been chosen as a sacrifice, then she might have been able to imagine a future with him.

Instead, she thought of him as a glorious, heralded hero who would protect her and her people long after she passed on, but even that was difficult. She wiped a tear away from her dark eye before it could roll down her cheek and averted her gaze for just a moment. When she did, Deidara vanished!

A deep rumble snapped her to attention. At first, she thought it was The Four Tailed Beast in the mountain, grinding away at stone for their construction, but it was too loud. She checked the tracks above her that wound around the village for any sign of trouble from The Five Tailed Beast and the steam train it powered– no luck. Then, there was a series of explosions and laughter from above her.

There Deidara was, soaring above her on a white clay bird of his own creation. They locked eyes for a moment– the gust from his bird’s wings blew her short black hair into her eyes. She winced and he rocketed away from her. He’d always whispered to her about how becoming an eternal monument was not his style. He'd say that he’d rather run away and make something profound of himself. She never thought he’d actually do it though.

As some of the buildings around her crumbled and burned, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. A mixture of fear, anger, excitement, and euphoria came over her. He faded into the distance for now, but she knew they’d meet again, and it would be an explosion– just as he’d always promised her.

@anannua Here's a look at The Hidden Stone in our AU. The world building for this was fun! ~

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[damien-wolfram-art]

The Quick Yellow Fox Denned Up with the Old White Wolf

Minato never had a shrine to call his own. He was a curious young kitsune who spent his days darting around the wide world in search of fresh sources of life force. Though he was benevolent wherever he went, he knew it was unsafe to stay in one place for long for his antics in any given village left many humans drained and wary of him. He didn’t mean to cause trouble; it was simply a part of his nature.

Other beings were fascinating to him. He would watch them from afar with perked ears, poking through his fluffy blond hair, sparkling deep blue eyes, and a wagging golden pillowy tail. Some would eye the pale yellow robed kitsune with disdain and keep their distance, fearing his power. Others would approach him fearlessly and ask for his blessings. Others yet, would look at him with the same curiosity and desire as he offered to them.

He would den up with those individuals from time to time. Their company was a comfort to him, however fleeting, for the young kitsune rarely stayed still and his interests were as fickle as the Autumn weather. His travels took him all over The Land of Fire and its neighboring countries. He visited The Hidden Eddy village with its whirlpools, and its red-haired maidens in the south. He visited the whispering woods of The Village Hidden in the Sound and met other vagrants who were passing through the north. He even spent time in the deep woods of The Hidden Leaf Village at the center of the country.

It was about a day’s stroll to the south-east of The Leaf that he hit a wall of scent that stopped him dead in his tracks. It was a strong salty funky scent that was chock full of pheromones. He couldn’t help himself. He had to know where it was coming from.

Following the scent was straight forward enough. He had little trouble staying down wind of it, but its pungency was distracting to the kitsune, and he ended up walking right into a trap. Snap! It was a bear trap.

Minato’s eyes went wide, and his pupils dilated on the offending jaws that were digging into his left leg. He was bleeding so much that he thought he’d faint. The only thing keeping him conscious was the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching him. He tried to run in the opposite direction, but the jaws only tore deeper into the flesh of his lower leg and made him scream.

The footsteps closed in on him and he whipped his head around to see who or what it was. “Not this again,” said a soft voice filled with concern. Rushing to his aid, came a larger grizzled man. He had a shorter white tail and canine ears poking through his longer fluffy hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail. His tired dark eyes focused on the trap, and he took hold of its teeth. “You might want to grab that stick there and bite down,” he suggested, motioning with his strong neck to a fallen branch near Minato. When he abided, he wrenched the jaws of the trap open. Minato didn’t scream this time. The pain had proved too much for him. He blacked out.

He woke to the same pungent smell from before and a trickling sound. He was curled up in a den dug out of a three-meter-tall cliff. His wounded leg was wrapped up and no longer bleeding. Around him were the forms of many large wolves. He stiffened, almost reverting to his fox shape, but calmed when he realized they were all peacefully sleeping.

A shifting and a sigh at the den’s entrance drew his attention. He sat up to check it out and when he did, he saw his savior from earlier that afternoon, gilded in the white light of the moon. The trickling sound got louder, and the scent got stronger. Minato’s ears guided his eyes to the source of the sound. A heavy stream of urine crashed into the loose soil at the larger man’s feet; it foamed on impact.

Feeling a twitch between his legs, Minato swallowed a moan. He’d never come into contact with such an attractive sight and scent. There was something powerful and well-seasoned about the man at the entrance. He needed to know more.

“Uhm, excuse me?” He called to him meekly. The man at the entrance looked back curiously, though he did not stop peeing. Minato only grew more excited by this. “Were you the one who saved me?”

The man finished relieving himself with a few quick and firm spurts, before tucking away his long pale member. Minato couldn’t help but stare– entranced by how the foreskin clung loosely to the firmness beneath it. He could even make out a small blueish vein running along part of its length before it was hidden away behind his long dirty white and red patterned kimono.

The white-haired man turned to Minato and smiled in a way that formed wrinkles around the corners of his mouth. “So good to see you’re up again, little fox. I freed you from that terrible trap, that’s true.”

Minato blushed at the way he’d been addressed. Rarely had anyone called him anything, but Kitsune. “Wh-why did you help me?” He asked.

“Why?” The larger man pondered aloud, grabbing at his squared chin. “Well, that trap was most likely not meant for you. It’d be cruel to let you die in it. Besides…” He sat down beside Minato. “You’re much too young to be dying, little fox.”

The kitsune blushed deeper, leaning closer to the bigger man. “You can call me Minato…if you’d like,” he offered.

“Minato huh? With a name like that, you must have been born by the water.”

“Yes, actually. You’ve got excellent deduction skills,” Minato said with a short laugh. “What about you? What are you called?”

“Sakumo. I am the Alpha of this pack.”

Minato felt the fur on his tail stand on end. “Sakumo…Alpha huh? No kidding,” he whispered.

“I know what you're thinking. An old wolf like me?”

Minato waved his hands in a nonthreatening manner. “No no no! Not at all! I think you’re very impressive.”

At that moment, Sakumo began to smell something coming off of Minato. It was a woodsy spicy scent hidden under a strong musk. The kitsune’s tail curled around the old wolf’s torso, beckoning him as he moved in closer. Both of their scents mingled in the air around them, making the both of them painfully aware of each other. That night, and for the few nights he needed to recover, the quick yellow fox denned up with the old white wolf.

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[damien-wolfram-art]

Make Out: Sensation

Kakashi hadn’t been a regular Leaf Jonin for over eleven years so returning to his normal duties was hard enough. Even harder still, was being a sensei. He might have worn a lead Jonin’s green armored vest and blue under armor, but that did not make him any more fit for the role.

He’d never passed a team of shinobi, so he never really had to worry about dragging a team along on missions. This meant he would never have to deal with the pain of losing them due to his own inadequacies either. That was the way he liked it, so he often took on missions on his own.

It was this bad habit that got him into a spot of trouble on a reconnaissance mission in The Hidden Rain. Normally, Kakashi was quite vigilant. The deep-set eye he didn’t have covered always looked to be half open and sleepy, but the truth about him was quite the opposite. He was always keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble.

Somehow, however, he’d missed his enemy mounting an ambush. He found himself in a tight spot– surrounded by his foes. He lifted his headband to reveal his red implanted sharingan eye and took in his surroundings. Just as he did, he felt an intense burning in both of his eyes.

A dark purple haze hung in the air around him. He couldn’t see. The haze had robbed “Kakashi of the Sharingan” of his namesake, making him extremely vulnerable.

He pressed his palms to both of his eyes and screamed out in pain. He could hear his enemies closing in, but aside from a bold display of taijutsu and evasion, he was helpless. When he was just about to succumb to their advances, he heard the sounds of a skirmish. 

“Captain?” Called a familiar and friendly voice– Anbu Team Ro member, Tenzo.

“Tenzo? Is that you?” Kakashi responded, relieved.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“M-my eyes,” Kakashi whispered.

Tenzo understood right away. He immediately flushed Kakashi’s bloodshot eyes with water from his canteen and brushed his ragged white hair away from his face. “We’ve got wounded!” He called out, curling the smaller man into his strong arms.

He would hand deliver him to the Leaf hospital and lay him down for care. Kakashi in his underclothes and eye bandages was just so pitiful looking. He was temporarily blinded, but once he was stable, Tenzo helped him write his report. It was the least he could do.

Kakashi would get antsy if left alone for too long. Tenzo wanted him to recover so he stayed with him, but Kakashi got bored easily in a hospital bed especially because he couldn’t see. Tenzo had to get creative.

He remembered Kakashi’s favorite book from their time in the Anbu together. “Hey Captain?” He prodded.

“You can just call me Kakashi now,” sighed the blind man. It had been over a year since he considered himself Tenzo’s Captain.

“Do you still have that book?”

“Make Out: Paradise?”

“Uh yeah that one!”

“I do.”

“Do you…want me to read it to you?”

Kakashi swallowed hard. He started to feel hot under his mask, but the prospect did seem promising. It certainly beat lying in bed doing nothing all day.

He fished it out of its hiding place and handed it over. Tenzo took it carefully, knowing just how much the novel meant to him. “Okay, where should I start?”

“From the beginning.”

Tenzo’s face went flat. He should have expected the response from Kakashi of all people. “Riiight…” The stiff brunette settled into his seat by the bed and opened the paperback. “Let’s see here…achem! She was a wonderful girl– exceptional in many ways. She was beautiful– with golden hair and a smile that could light up a room. Her eyes were like clear ocean pools, and she was talented to boot. Moreover, she was his best friend,” he read.

He continued like this for a long time. Kakashi listened intently. They progressed through the story of a young couple in love and soon enough they were experimenting with each other. ““It’s surprisingly big, isn’t it?” He asked. “ Tenzo read, blushing. He’d never been so thankful that Kakashi couldn’t see. ""You must be so intimidated. Just close your eyes and trust me.” He said, -”

“G-guiding her hand to touch him…for the first…time.” Kakashi whispered shyly.

Tenzo paused, looking at his Captain in shock. “You’re really into this stuff, aren’t you? You’ve got it memorized?”

Kakashi only blushed a deeper shade. It was up to his ears now. “Heh you’re pretty cute, all embarrassed like that, Captain,” Tenzo teased, feeling compelled to move in closer. “Hey, should we set the mood some more?”

Kakashi gasped, feeling Tenzo’s hand slip below the sheets. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, but he nodded vehemently. That’s how Tenzo made sure he stayed in bed.

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[damien-wolfram-art]

It’s Just a Bit

“It’s just for a scene,” Sasuke told himself as he lay in his plush bed surrounded by many pillows. “We’re almost done with this movie.” He clutched one tightly with his arms and legs, imagining it as the object of his current obsession, Naruto Uzumaki. “We’ll never see her again.” He thought, but there was a burning jealousy seething inside him.

Yukie Fujikaze was a beautiful dark-haired woman with skin like porcelain. She was also a talented actress– one that many in Sasuke’s profession looked up to. This included his long-time coworker, Naruto, who for the sake of a bit, had taken a nap on set after being patched up from his stunts. While he snored away, she approached him, kissing his left cheek gently for a photo.

Naruto would have loved to have been awake for it. That idea only made Sasuke’s bitter resentment grow deeper. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way though.

After years of working with the dimwitted goofball that Naruto was, Sasuke had grown inexplicably yet undeniably attached. He didn’t understand why, but whenever anyone strayed too close to his orange glowing ball of sunshine, he despised it. Naruto was his–only his. Sasuke had it bad for the little idiot.

He couldn’t tell him that though. They were just kids and Naruto was a guy like him. Not only that, but Naruto very obviously liked girls.

This was only made more obvious by how Naruto reacted to the candid photo– blushing like a schoolgirl at the idea of being kissed in such an unflattering state. Sasuke didn’t think of it as unflattering though. He considered the image of his beaten blond drooling and snoring away to be quite endearing. The only unflattering part was that stranger kissing him. 

If only it could have been him. He would have kissed him better. He would have sat in bed with him afterwards and held his hand. They would have joked around and laughed together.

Sasuke thought back to the early days of shooting with Naruto. They were both talented in their own right, but they were strangers to each other then. He remembered when the idea for them to kiss on camera was pitched. Naruto was super excited. “Such a cool idea, right?” Naruto asked him, getting far too close. “I mean, what other rivals get to kiss, y’know?”

Sasuke gave in to Naruto’s ecstatic passion that day. The kiss was brief, harsh, and not very pleasant, but it awoke something in Sasuke. His character may have wanted to surpass Naruto, but he, simply wanted him. He just didn’t know how to say it.

So he didn’t. He just let his desire embitter him. He kept on wanting Naruto and hating anyone who got close, but he worried now that he’d lost his chance. Sasuke, the character, would be going on hiatus soon. It was what the plot of the show called for, but Sasuke, the actor, feared that he would be forgotten by his friend. They spent plenty of time together outside of work so that wasn’t the problem. Something else was bugging him. “What if he meets someone else?” He thought, clutching the pillow even tighter and shoving his worry flushed pale face into it in a way that ruffled his already disheveled midnight blue hair.

Only time would tell.

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[damien-wolfram-art]

Nowhere to Go

“You can’t keep doing this!” Menma yelled at his big brother.

Obito could only express with half of his face since half of it was taken up completely by cybernetic enhancements. This didn’t stop him from glaring at his bratty little stowaway. “Listen up, kid. You think enhancements like that one are free?” He growled, pointing Menma square in his right eye.

Menma blushed, answering, “I know it wasn’t free…”

“How are you gonna pay for it then?”

Menma sighed with resignation. If he knew that Obito was going to keep making appointments for Menko, then he might not have been so eager to get a matching eye to his brother. “Did you have to book so many?” He asked meekly.

“The more clients you get. The faster you pay me back.”

Menma wanted to argue more, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. He was trapped with nowhere to go. Even if he did leave Obito, Menma had no ship to navigate the universe. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it on his own, so he stripped down and changed into the panties, miniskirt, crop top, and long pig tailed wig. Obito watched him hungrily. Mentally, Menma was tucked away, and Menko came out to play.

She approached her brother soullessly and he smiled, wrapping his arm around her lower back to rest on her hip. “That’s more like it. Was that so hard?” he mocked.

She didn’t answer; she never spoke as Menko. Obito didn’t mind. She’d be screaming soon enough. He led her to a room where ten ravenous eyes awaited her. While Menma slept in the protective confines of his mind palace, Menko took all of their abuse for him.

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[damien-wolfram-art]

Is That All You Got?

Sasuke’s lips crashed against Naruto’s as the two actors stumbled their way into the former’s bedroom. Naruto gasped when he felt the crook of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Sasuke took that moment to shove his tongue into Naruto’s gaping mouth, knocking him off balance so they both fell into the plush mattress.

Sasuke’s hands peeled his partner’s orange jacket off of him followed by his undershirt. Their lips only parted when it was necessary. Naruto’s seal was visible; it normally was when they got intimate, but there was also heavy bruising around his stomach and ribs from his shoot for Naruto Shippuden the Movie: Bonds earlier. Sasuke gripped at Naruto’s tender sides and the blond moaned, bucking his eager hips up at him. 

Sasuke shifted his weight, pinning Naruto’s hips back down and eliciting another of his needy moans. “Just what do you think you’re doing, loser?” Sasuke asked. 

Naruto let out a whimper, “that hurt.”

Sasuke sneered, “yeah? Well, you did ask me to beat you, Naruto. Eating your words already tough guy?” He wasn’t always so aggressive with Naruto, but Naruto got into some seriously masochistic moods from time to time and as an actor, Sasuke obliged him.

“Noooo!” Naruto snapped back. “I think you’re just going soft, Sasuke.”

Sasuke twitched subtly before his hands found themselves wrapped around Naruto’s neck. He squeezed him tight, cutting off his air. “Stop talking,” he commanded. Beneath his hands he could feel Naruto’s pulse- strong and fast. Pressing at his rear, something else of Naruto’s pulsed too.

When he sensed Naruto was at the edge of consciousness, he released him. The battered blond gasped for breath beneath him, looking desperate, “H-Hey you bastard! You-”

“You talk too much,” Sasuke interrupted flatly. His hands again stole Naruto’s breath away and he could feel both of their arousals growing stronger.

Naruto’s vision began to fade, but Sasuke kept him awake with a sharp slap across his bruised right cheek. Naruto opened his mouth to say something, but then it occurred to him that Sasuke would just stop him again. He swallowed his words, letting his begging beautiful blue eyes do the talking for him.

“Is that it?” Sasuke teased his unusually ingratiating lover.

“Is that all you got?” Naruto responded more characteristically, smirking.

Sasuke growled in a way that only Naruto could make him. He was harder than ever and so was his bratty little plaything. He came to the realization that after a scene where he was pummeled over nearly every square centimeter of his body, Naruto’s neck was strikingly clear of bruising. He would fix that.

His teeth plucked up the soft skin of Naruto’s neck and he sucked hard. Naruto moaned again and tried his luck at grinding on Sasuke again, but Sasuke just leaned forward more so that Naruto only grinded the air. His moans only grew more desperate as Sasuke denied him.

Sasuke removed himself from Naruto’s neck to ask, “Want something, Naruto?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Say it.”

“Fuck…Sasuke.”

“Hn,” Sasuke chuckled dryly. “Why should I? You’ve hardly done anything to deserve it.”

“Please…”

“Begging already? Naruto, you really are pathetic,” shamed Sasuke.

Naruto loved every second of it. He lived for Sasuke’s insults, knowing that behind each one was a layer of love hidden just beneath the surface. When Sasuke finally flipped him and stripped him bare, he shook his hips welcomingly.

Sasuke took the bait, whipping out his own long hard member and sinking it deep into Naruto. He pounded him just like he wanted, but soon Naruto wanted more. Prompted by more whining, Sasuke asked, “What is it?”

“Touch?” Naruto queried submissively.

This time Sasuke smirked. “Me touch You? And get your worthless cum on my hand? Naruto…” He grunted slamming into Naruto harder. “If you really want to cum you better find a good spot in the sheets.”

Naruto did and without much warning either. His orgasm prompted him to squeeze Sasuke tight. “Aghhhh Sasukeeee!” He screamed. Sasuke’s cold eyes watched as his boyfriend writhed with pleasure beneath him. He struggled to keep his composure, but after a few moments, he asked, “Are you done yet?”

This only proved to set Naruto off again, but Sasuke couldn’t hold back the second time. “Ngh…idiot,” he grunted, rolling his hips and huffing in time with his vocal partner. He came with him the second time and then lay on top of his lean form, enjoying his company in the afterglow. He was about to ask if Naruto had been thoroughly entertained, when he heard him snoring. They had to be back on set in a couple of hours, so he decided to clean him up without waking him.

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