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Doggy gojo (in training)

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Some new sketches with Uchiha Madara this time <3 Whom should I do next? Maybe Hashirama or Izuna? :D (sure that would be them :D)

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about tiger stripes

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Guess this is what happens to Hashirama every time he tries to reply back to Madara during an argument

almost argued then i saw ur boobs, youre always right

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when i saw this post i thought of hashirama bug

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Aren't you indulging in the pain?

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ID: Traditional drawing of Senju Hashirama a cartoonish embarrassed expression. End ID.

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Love spell

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ID: Uchiha Madara colored sketch on paper. End ID.

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sketch under the cut ^_^

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Some steamy onsen hashimada for @klaineka 🙏

Commissions are open!✨

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No one is normal when you're obliged to be a child soldier experiencing deep traumas

hashirama fooled everyone into thinking hes normal but he’s actually just a different genre of insane and selfish covered by his enjoyable personality

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Made for Twitter #柱マダ版ワンドロワンライ challenge

Prompt: Humidity

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hsmd fic wip/snippet ;)

blood | first time | Post Valley of the End | ~200 words | M-rated ?

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Madara fell on the water, and Hashirama didn't feel a thing. His sword was still in Madara's back, and the only reason Hashirama knew the rain was pouring on him was because he could see it.

He grabbed Madara and pulled him onto the riverbank, inadvertently brushing his fingers against his cold skin. His cold, dead skin.

He sat down by his friend's side while the rain stopped. Slowly, the sky cleared. The sun shone through a few clouds as if nothing had happened. Sun rays carelessly touched the blood coming from Hashirama's sword.

Taking a deep breath, Hashirama wrapped his hand around the sword's handle and pulled it out in one swift motion.

It was so awfully normal.

Like the hundreds of times he had done it before, yet his stomach stirred. It was Madara for fuck's sake, it shouldn't have been him.

Blood came out of Madara's heart as if it were still pumping. Hashirama couldn't look away even though he felt like he should. He wanted to see what he had done to Madara. His thoughts suggested things he didn't always follow through due to reason, but… he was alone here.

Madara wouldn't mind, would he?

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HashiMada Week Sneak Peak

Prompt(s): Wedding, First Time, Fairytale

Tobirama’s mouth was open in a silent scream, his hand outstretched towards his brother. But the merman held him fast, and Hashirama could not reach back.

“It’s okay,” Hashirama managed to say, before being drug down into the watery depths. He couldn’t even think all the unsaid words he’d intended to tell his brother; get back to land, don’t tell father, don’t come after me, I will figure it out. Instead, the rush of water against his ears and the increasing pressure had him struggling, crying out a stream of bubbles.

The merman paused his descent when he felt Hashirama thrashing in his grip. They were already far below the surface. Everything burned; his eyes and his lungs especially. His head felt as though it were full of water, as if it might explode. When Hashirama looked up, he could still see the sun’s rays, though they no longer reached to where they were in the water. With a lurch of dismay, he wondered if he would ever feel them again on his skin.

“I can’t breathe,” Hashirama choked, smacking at the merman’s shoulder, bubbles spurting from his mouth. This futile attempt at communication cost him more air. Suddenly the merman brought his face close to Hashirama’s, breathing into—kissing? —Hashirama’s ears, his eyes, nose, and mouth. With a strangled gasp, Hashirama realized he could inhale. The pressure in his ears abated, as did the irritation in his eyes. All the while, the merman kept hold of his hand. Once he seemed satisfied with Hashirama’s adjustment, he pulled him onward, more gently this time.

“Do you remember me?” The merman turned suddenly to Hashirama, grasping him by both hands this time and swimming backwards. Hashirama blinked, and the dark water suddenly didn’t seem so dark, though they were far from the surface now. He trained his eyes on the merman, looking down at his own hands that were grasped by slightly webbed fingers. His eyes traveled upwards, noting the dark tail, the featherlight fins on the back of his elbows, and the scales that trailed here and there on his pale skin. The merman’s face surrounded by a mass of long, black filamentous hair. The revelation hit Hashirama, and he gasped.

“It’s you,” he said. The merman looked pleased at the recognition. “Why can I understand you now?”

“I’ve learned some things,” was the merman’s coy answer. “Hashirama,” he added, and Hashirama felt his face grow warm, even in the cool water.

“What’s your name?”

“Madara.” As they spoke, Madara steadily carried them downwards, until they were adjacent to a large shelf of rock, shielded from the open ocean. Thoughts and memories rushed through Hashirama’s addled mind.

“Madara,” he repeated slowly, rolling the name around on his tongue. Madara tightened his grip on Hashirama’s hands, if Hashirama might drift away and be lost without his hold. “Do your people know I’m here?”

“Not yet, they don’t. I stole you for myself.”

“Well…” Hashirama’s mind refused to cooperate. “I won’t hurt you,” were the words that came out of his mouth, thinking of Madara’s previous interaction with humans.

Madara smirked. “I think it’s you who should be worried about being hurt by me.”

“Oh,” Hashirama squeaked, and Madara looked pleased by the flash of fear that crossed his captive’s face.

“But I won’t,” Madara reassured, unwilling to alienate him too much.

“Oh,” Hashirama breathed in relief. “Why…why did you bring me here?”

“Because Father told me it was time I choose a mate. And I choose you.”

@hashimada-week

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HashiMada Week Sneak Peak

Prompt(s): Wedding, First Time, Fairytale

Tobirama’s mouth was open in a silent scream, his hand outstretched towards his brother. But the merman held him fast, and Hashirama could not reach back.

“It’s okay,” Hashirama managed to say, before being drug down into the watery depths. He couldn’t even think all the unsaid words he’d intended to tell his brother; get back to land, don’t tell father, don’t come after me, I will figure it out. Instead, the rush of water against his ears and the increasing pressure had him struggling, crying out a stream of bubbles.

The merman paused his descent when he felt Hashirama thrashing in his grip. They were already far below the surface. Everything burned; his eyes and his lungs especially. His head felt as though it were full of water, as if it might explode. When Hashirama looked up, he could still see the sun’s rays, though they no longer reached to where they were in the water. With a lurch of dismay, he wondered if he would ever feel them again on his skin.

“I can’t breathe,” Hashirama choked, smacking at the merman’s shoulder, bubbles spurting from his mouth. This futile attempt at communication cost him more air. Suddenly the merman brought his face close to Hashirama’s, breathing into—kissing? —Hashirama’s ears, his eyes, nose, and mouth. With a strangled gasp, Hashirama realized he could inhale. The pressure in his ears abated, as did the irritation in his eyes. All the while, the merman kept hold of his hand. Once he seemed satisfied with Hashirama’s adjustment, he pulled him onward, more gently this time.

“Do you remember me?” The merman turned suddenly to Hashirama, grasping him by both hands this time and swimming backwards. Hashirama blinked, and the dark water suddenly didn’t seem so dark, though they were far from the surface now. He trained his eyes on the merman, looking down at his own hands that were grasped by slightly webbed fingers. His eyes traveled upwards, noting the dark tail, the featherlight fins on the back of his elbows, and the scales that trailed here and there on his pale skin. The merman’s face surrounded by a mass of long, black filamentous hair. The revelation hit Hashirama, and he gasped.

“It’s you,” he said. The merman looked pleased at the recognition. “Why can I understand you now?”

“I’ve learned some things,” was the merman’s coy answer. “Hashirama,” he added, and Hashirama felt his face grow warm, even in the cool water.

“What’s your name?”

“Madara.” As they spoke, Madara steadily carried them downwards, until they were adjacent to a large shelf of rock, shielded from the open ocean. Thoughts and memories rushed through Hashirama’s addled mind.

“Madara,” he repeated slowly, rolling the name around on his tongue. Madara tightened his grip on Hashirama’s hands, if Hashirama might drift away and be lost without his hold. “Do your people know I’m here?”

“Not yet, they don’t. I stole you for myself.”

“Well…” Hashirama’s mind refused to cooperate. “I won’t hurt you,” were the words that came out of his mouth, thinking of Madara’s previous interaction with humans.

Madara smirked. “I think it’s you who should be worried about being hurt by me.”

“Oh,” Hashirama squeaked, and Madara looked pleased by the flash of fear that crossed his captive’s face.

“But I won’t,” Madara reassured, unwilling to alienate him too much.

“Oh,” Hashirama breathed in relief. “Why…why did you bring me here?”

“Because Father told me it was time I choose a mate. And I choose you.”

@hashimada-week