#hagoromo

[maireyart]

Beginning Obito week with a trippy art! @obito-week Prompts: the pure world, hallucination, regret Quote: "I was more a battlefield than a human being" (says Obito here)

Finally the Sage is having a nice chat with Obito, just like he planned xDDD + some celestial weed for funsies.

I've wanted to draw them together for ages, but it turned out funnier than I'd imagined initially xD

[narutwitter]

[my-anime-goods]

Kanojo, Okarishimasu (Rent-a-Girlfriend) - New goods with new illustrations (Parka) announced. Release: June 2026 [Brand: Hagoromo]

[tanuki-kimono]

Luscious phoenix pattern for this modern velvet haori by RumiRock, with a pattern placement somehow mimicking a hagoromo (feather mantle) draped on wearer's shoulders.

As always with velvet, pictures don't truly do it justice, you can have a look at this video to get a better idea. The jewel-colors must be so glorious irl!

[thelostdoodles]

You can always count on the mathematicians to have the correct opinion on the best writing implements in every medium

[cazador-de-sirenas]

My 100 Naruto headcanons

Ordered more or less chronologically. There are a few educated guesses here, but most of these just cater to my personal likes, feelings and/or interpretations, sometimes inspired by fanarts and fanfics. However, canon is mostly respected unless proven otherwise.

Also, take a look at the Senju and Uchiha clans that I made, please. It may help you not to get lost with some things.

*(content will be cut in 4 parts because too long)

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

1. Since Hagoromo had two sons, Hamura instead fathered two daughters. One remained on the Moon (Otsutsuki clan ancestress) and the other returned to Earth (Hyūga clan ancestress).

You can check out their names in my fan-named characters, along with many others.

2. The Hagoromo clan originated from members that sided with Indra and followed him into exile. That's how they were still allies with the Uchiha thousand years later.

3. The Kaguya clan were somehow spawned by black Zetsu (from white Zetsus) thanks to Kaguya's genetics from itself.

4. All five of Uchiha siblings were named after the Northern Shinshu range, in this birth order: Madara, Kurohime (♀), Togakushi, Myōkō (♀) and Izuna. They were only one year apart each (meaning that when Izuna died, both Hashirama and Madara were 28yo and Tobirama 27).

5. Hashirama and Mito had a political marriage. They didn't marry for love, but over time they managed to develop an actual caring and affectionate relationship. They had two children at least (pre- and post-bijuu.

6. I relocated Uzushiogakure because it bothered me that Kishimoto put it on the same island as Land of Waves. I placed it here instead.

7. Hashirama and Madara were definitely in love. Perhaps it was only platonic, but I take it as romantic.

8. Madara married Naori out of admiration for her heart and will to sacrifice for her last brother, Naka, which reminded him of Izuna. They had a son and daughter.

9. Setsuna and Kagami were sons of Madara and Izuna respectively.

10. Izuna died at 24yo, which is more than old enough to sire a kid. He got some Fuuma woman pregnant on his very first experience even before his hatachi, out of an act of rebellion. She died at childbirth, so Izuna was able to get baby Kagami with him.

11. The little girl who tripped at the academy and Madara helped was Biwako. She was originally a Senju before marrying Hiruzen (because her clothes are just so similar).

12. If Madara had been loved enough, Zetsu wouldn't have been able to brainwash and corrupt him (if Izuna hadn't died… if his clan hadn't shunned him… or if Hashirama had actually done something to stop Tobirama's slandering).

13. Most Uchihas can't get drunk. Their potent katon nature evaporates all alcohol from their system before it can take effect. At most, they only get a bit tipsy for a very short while.

14. Uchihas don't bury their dead, they cremate. Coffin pyres as poetic imagery of returning to the fire, or becoming one with the fire... something like that.

15. Hikaku Uchiha was made clan leader after Madara left.

16. He was pretty much coerced (by Tobirama) to marry Touka Senju for politics, and he did it dutifully in order to help stabilize the clan's position in Konoha. They only had one son for the sake of appearances. Sadly, this caused that neither of his parents were too thrilled by his existence, though they treated him well.

17. Hashirama was invaded by his mokuton in a sort-of autoimmune disease that made his body turn into the tree in the school yard. Yes, the tree where Naruto's swing was hung on. That tree which was the only thing to survive Pain's attack? If that's not mythical strength I don't know what would be.

18. Tobirama is albino (he's not half-Hatake nor anything like that).

19. He had UST with Izuna and didn't know how to deal with it, hence Uchihan frustration issues forever (yes, I admit that I've been corrupted by all those fanarts and fanfics... but I don't regret it).

20. Tobirama only took in Kagami (Izuna's son) to get his hands on an Uchiha insider for spying.

21. He killed Orochimaru's parents (as implied in Jiraiya's novel).

22. Senju clan intermingled with other clans in Konoha in order to promote unity and stability. That's how they "disappeared", meaning most of the current clans probably have a Senju ancestor.

23. First mizukage Byakuren was an outstanding smithy. He forged the Seven Swords of the Mist in an attempt to compete with Kumogakure's Hagoromo treasures. This feature was what granted him being chosen as the First.

The swords were gifted to the seven most prominent clans in Land of Water in order to convince them join in the founding of Kirigakure.

24. Third mizukage was born blind and he developed as a sensor since pretty much birth. His sensoring ability remains unparalleled until today!

The pearls he wore on his head actually served to block tiny and unimportant amounts of chakra (like those coming from plants and animals), in order to help him focus only on actual possible threats.

25. All minor lands and villages accepted! The map would be too empty otherwise.

*(continues in part 2 - part 3 - part 4)

[imparateasa]

How Naruto and Sasuke reacted after Hagoromo told them his backstory:

Hagoromo: —and though separated by circumstance of birth, you both are still my precious sons. I wish I had more time speak but it seems fate shall not allow it, goodbye my children

Naruto: Hear that Sasuke? Sage gramps said we’re brothers, I knew we were connected by more than just friendship BELIEVE IT!

Sasuke (Homosexually): B-Brothers? That means… No this can’t be.

[belit0]

Ashes of the Firstborn

You can also read it in AO3!

Otsutsuki Indra was born first, born strongest, and born to lead. But when his birthright is stolen, he turns from the light and carves a path of destruction that stains the land in blood. Legends whisper of the Firstborn’s crimson gaze and the merciless wars he waged against gods and men alike. Yet in the depths of his darkness, one soul still dares to search for the boy he once was. Ivy’s relentless hope becomes the spark that defies fate itself—an echo of love and defiance that will forge a legacy. From shadow and ruin, a new clan will rise. The Uchiha.

This is the beginning of a novel I’ve been thinking about writing for a long time. We know so little about the foundations of the Uchiha clan—how Indra built what we later come to see—and it feels fitting to create the lore, story that justifies every step taken toward the clan’s birth. We’ll explore this through a blend of love, anguish, and the madness inherent to the Uchiha, with smut, tension, and much more along the way. Feedback is welcome!

Endless thanks to @sen-iiiiii for being my beta reader in this long and crazy project!!

Chapter 1

The woods were quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of fists striking bark.

Indra moved with deliberate precision, each blow finding the same place on the tree trunk, again and again. His hands were scraped raw, but he barely noticed. At eight years old, he had already learned to ignore discomfort. His breath was steady. Focus absolute.

The forest watched in silence.

Until it didn’t.

Twigs snapped somewhere behind him, small ones, as though someone too light to know better was trying—and failing—to be stealthy. He did not turn. Instead, his hand drew back and struck the tree once more, sharp enough to send a tremor through the wood.

A pause.

Then footsteps, deliberate now. Crunching leaves beneath soft soles.

-I knew it.

The voice was high, curious. A girl’s voice. Indra exhaled through his nose, slow and quiet, but he said nothing.

-You are here every afternoon,- she continued, as if filling the quiet was a duty only she could fulfill. -I told my brother I saw you once, but he didn’t believe me. He said “that boy from the other village doesn’t play with anyone!” But here you are.-

He struck the tree again. Less out of training now, more to remind himself she wasn’t worth noticing.

The girl kept going.

-Do you live far? I think we might be neighbors. Sort of. My village is behind the hills… over there somewhere.- She waved a hand vaguely, though he still hadn’t looked at her. -My name’s Ivy. What’s yours?-

Silence.

She waited. A heartbeat. Two.

-You do have a name, right?- she prodded, stepping around the side of the tree. She was small—shorter than him by a head, with a long braid that dragged through the leaves as she walked. Her honey-colored eyes shone with something too close to mischief.

He finally turned his head, just enough that she could see him. His dark eyes flickered over her in an assessing glance. A flicker, nothing more.

-Leave.- The word was soft but sharp, the kind of edge that was meant to warn.

Ivy tilted her head. For a moment, it seemed like she might listen. But then her mouth curved into a smile—wide, bright, a little crooked.

-And if I don’t?

He stared at her. She stared back.

Most would have left by now. Most would have understood.

But this girl—this strange, noisy girl—laughed. It wasn’t loud, but it was sudden, like she couldn’t help it.

-You’re not as scary as you think.

Indra’s jaw tensed. His fingers curled once, then released. He didn’t answer. He turned back toward the tree and drew his hand up for another strike.

-See you tomorrow,- Ivy said, cheerful as though they’d agreed on something. She was already stepping away, humming softly to herself.

And though he didn’t turn to watch her leave, he listened.

//

Weeks passed.

By then, it had become a strange kind of ritual.

Indra would go to the woods. Ivy would follow. Sometimes she arrived before him, sitting on the fallen log as if it had been hers all along. Other days, she trailed after him with quiet steps and loud words, announcing her arrival by the sheer volume of her thoughts spoken aloud.

He never told her to leave again. Not because he wanted her there. At least, that’s what he told himself.

That day, the sun hung low behind heavy clouds, the air thick with the promise of rain. Indra’s hands, already bruised and torn, curled into fists. He exhaled slowly through his nose and moved—fluid, precise, his body remembering lessons drilled into bone.

Ivy sat cross-legged nearby, playing with strands of her braid, knotting and unknotting them while she spoke.

-You should rest sometimes, you know. My brother does the same thing—train until he can't lift his arms. He never listens, either.

Her voice drifted over him like the wind, familiar enough now that he no longer heard it as a disruption. Just a presence. Quiet noise that somehow made the silence less hollow.

Indra slammed his palm into the tree. The wood cracked faintly under his touch, bark splintering.

-But you’re different from him,- she went on, plucking a leaf and spinning it between her fingers. -He is all noise and bluster. You… you’re like a storm that doesn’t make a sound. Until it does.-

He ignored her, as usual.

She sighed dramatically and lay back in the grass, staring up at the slate-colored sky. -One day you’ll tell me your name,- she said. -And when you do, I’ll pretend I haven’t already decided to call you something else.-

His strikes grew faster, harder. Chakra gathered at his palm, swirling violently beneath his skin. He pushed it further, reckless now, because something about her voice made it harder to stay quiet inside himself.

The blow landed wrong. His wrist twisted sharply, and there was the sound of flesh giving way, the sharp tear of skin. He didn’t flinch, but blood welled up quickly, dark and thick along his forearm.

She was on her feet before he could step away.

-Stop.

The word wasn’t soft. It wasn’t a plea. It was a command.

For the first time, he hesitated.

Ivy crossed the space between them in three quick steps. Her braid dragged through the grass behind her as she stood in front of him, small and stubborn. Without asking permission, without fear, she took his injured arm in her hands.

Her touch was warm.

She didn’t hesitate. Fingers light, she let them glide just above his skin, where the torn flesh glimmered dark with blood. Chakra bloomed from her palms—a soft, pale glow, like the last light before dusk—and sank into his wound. He felt the sting fade almost immediately, the skin stitching itself closed under her gentle command.

She said nothing as she worked. No foolish comments. No questions. Only a quiet, steady focus, as if this were something she’d done a thousand times before.

When it was done, she didn’t let go.

-You should be more careful,- Ivy said, lifting her gaze to his.

He stared at her—dark, fathomless eyes, sharp as cut obsidian. No one touched him without permission. No one defied the prodigy without consequence. And yet here she stood—small, steady, utterly unafraid.

For a long moment, silence hung between them.

Then his fingers closed slowly over hers. Not in rejection. In acknowledgment. Her hands were smaller than his, but strong in ways that had nothing to do with power.

-My name,- he said at last, his voice low, rough with something he didn’t fully understand, -is Indra.-

Her brows lifted, surprise flickering across her face—but only for a breath.

-Ivy,- she replied, though she had said it a million times before.

-I know.

A faint smile tugged at her mouth. Not mocking. Not sweet, either. Something in between. -Took you long enough,- she said. Indra said nothing. He let go of her hand.

But something had shifted. And they both knew it.

//

Late afternoon pressed long shadows between the trees, turning the clearing into a pool of dusk. Ivy sat cross-legged at a fallen tree, her fingers absently weaving small braids into her hair. She spoke sometimes. Little things. A thought about the clouds overhead, or how the wind smelled different when rain was coming. But mostly, she watched.

Indra was farther in, his movements sharp and deliberate, slicing through the air with an elegance she had never seen in any of the other boys training back in her village. There was no hesitation in him. No wasted motion. Just an endless, relentless precision. It was beautiful in its way. Terrible, too.

Ivy wasn’t sure if he forgot she was there, or simply didn’t care anymore.

She was twisting another braid when he stopped.

Just like that, his body stilled—abrupt, like he’d snapped into place—and his head turned slightly toward her. His hair, long and loose, caught the light for a moment before settling against his back. He didn’t say anything. He never did first.

But his eyes found hers across the clearing.

It wasn't the kind of look other boys gave-quick, passing, meaningless. His gaze was steady. Measured. As if he wasn't just seeing her but looking into her, like it meant something.

Her fingers paused, still tangled in her own hair. She felt something pull tight in her chest, soft and strange.

-What?- she asked, more breath than sound.

He didn’t answer. Not right away. His gaze drifted lower, to her hands, where the braid hung unfinished between her fingers. For a second, she thought he was going to turn back to his training. He always did.

But instead, he walked toward her. Calm, unhurried, his steps silent over the moss.

Ivy felt very aware. She held still, watching him come closer, until the space between them was narrow enough that she could feel the cold shadow of his presence. He didn’t sit. He just stood there, looking at her like he was trying to decide if she was real.

His hand lifted. Barely. Like the movement itself was an afterthought. And then, without a word, he took the braid from her fingers. His touch was light, practiced, as if he'd done it before - though she knew he hadn't.

But for some reason, the air felt different between them as he twisted the strands into place - quick, precise, like it was muscle memory.

When he was done, he let the strand fall against her shoulder. His fingers brushed her skin for half a breath longer than they needed to.

-No loose ends, little shadow.- Indra said simply.

And then he was gone. Turning back to the clearing, to the weight of his own practice. Like it meant nothing.

But Ivy sat there, braid heavy against her collarbone, and thought: "little shadow! A nickname!"

And she smiled, just a little.

//

The air was still, warm with the weight of late afternoon, and the woods stood quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of breath—sharp and controlled. Indra moved like shadow-made flesh, his strikes cutting through the silence with each precise flick of his wrist. Ivy sat at her usual place, legs tucked beneath her, braiding blades of grass with absent-minded concentration.

She had been coming here for weeks now, invited by no one, sent away by no scowl. She spoke as if filling the spaces he refused to acknowledge, and lately, she'd stopped expecting answers.

Today was no different.

-You train too much, you know.- Ivy muttered, fingers busy as she glanced up at him. -What if you grow up so serious you forget how to smile?-

Indra didn’t falter. His footwork was silent, and measured, but his eyes flickered—dark, watchful. She’d learned to look for that. It meant he was listening.

She smiled to herself, tucking the grass braid behind her ear. -I think I liked your frown better when it wasn’t all the time.-

The leaves rustled behind them. Ivy straightened. Indra stilled completely, breath held like a blade against the throat.

Asura's voice broke through the hush, bright and careless. -Indra! Father said you—

He stopped when he saw her. A little girl, sitting cross-legged on the ground as if she belonged there. As if this place, this brother of his, wasn't carved from something colder than stone.

Asura blinked at her. Then grinned. -Who are you?- He stepped closer, peering at Ivy with undisguised curiosity.

Ivy tilted her head, meeting him with a boldness only children could manage. -I’m Ivy. Who are you?-

-He’s my little brother.- Indra’s voice cut through the space between them, low and flat. It made Ivy blink once. Asura didn’t notice. He was already crouching near Ivy, examining her braid like it was the most fascinating thing he'd seen all day.

-Your hair is longer than hers,- Asura pointed out, glancing over his shoulder at Indra. -But you don’t braid it?-

Indra didn’t answer. His jaw clenched instead.

Ivy laughed softly, pulling the grass from behind her ear. -He’s too busy being serious. He wouldn’t know how.-

Asura chuckled. -I could teach him.-

Something sharp twisted behind Indra’s ribs. His hands flexed at his sides, and he turned away without a word, returning to his stances. His back felt hot under their gaze.

Asura’s questions didn’t stop. -Do you always watch him train? Isn’t it boring?-

-No.- Ivy’s answer was simple. Certain. -I like watching him.-

Asura hummed thoughtfully, kicking his feet in the dirt. -I think it’s strange,- he said, but there was no malice in it. Just a child's honesty.

Ivy smiled again, but her eyes stayed on Indra. He hadn’t looked at them once since his brother arrived. Still, his movements had changed. Sharper. Harsher.

When Asura finally ran off, leaving promises to bring something next time—apples, maybe—there was a silence that settled between them again.

Ivy tucked her knees under her chin. -You didn’t tell him to leave.-

Indra exhaled slowly, his shoulders rigid. -He doesn’t listen.-

-You didn’t tell me to leave either.

He turned then, just enough for her to catch the edge of his gaze. Dark. Unreadable. It lingered on her, longer than it ever had before.

-No.- His voice was a weight. -I didn’t.-

Ivy smiled to herself, quietly victorious.