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The Price of Loyalty Chpt.1
They only had a days warning before the attack began.
One of Otogakures smaller bases, which wouldnt have usually been too big of a losswas in turmoil. Just over twenty-four hours ago they had gotten a warning that information had been leaked somewhere. Orochimaru was absolutely livid, ordering everyone to take what they could, and destroy the rest of it. Most of the important information had already been handled as such, though no one seemed to move fast enough for the Sannins taste. He refused to leave the base, no matter his right-hands advice, until everything was either gone or demolished. He would leave this base in ruins, even if he had to do it with Konoha right in front of them. And it just so happened, an hour ago, that that very scenario had become a reality. What little ninja were left had started a battle to stall them, but the forces that Konoha had sent were surprisingly large.
Fools did they really think that Orochimaru brought
Image of Me OroKabu drabble/Look at me what do you see?
Am I real or just a dream?
Am I something that you need?
Or just an image of me?
So if you think that you're in love with me
Or is it just the whole idea?/
"Image of me"
The Sannin was the first to wake in the dim light of the room. Candles that had been left burning were now nothing but sputtering stumps, leaving a lingering scent of sweat and burned wax in the wake of hazy smoke. Giving a deep sigh, Orochimaru's golden eyes turned to the other side of the bed, where his companion lay still fast asleep. His hair seemed to be spun silver splayed out across his milky shoulders, and his slender body was mostly uncovered as the sheets had pooled around his waist during sleep. His arms were under the pillow, which only stretched him out all the more. Giving a slight smile, Orochimaru reached out slowly to touch the silky hair, brushing it from those flawless shoulders. It felt wonderful as he slid his pale fingers through it, uncovering what it hid. Marks of
Die Another Day pt2 Dedication.
Orochimaru sat alone in his room today, his mood very dark. Tapping the nails of his left hand against the arm of his chair rhythmically, he chewed on the thumb nail of the right. The mission had gone over well, but because of his slight in information, his right hand man had been critically wounded, and his future vessel put in danger. If it had been anyone but Itachi and Kisame, Sasuke would likely not be alive right now. He should have told Kabuto at least but then that was information that he wasnt quite ready to give the medic.
Golden eyes wondered over to his left, where a driedalmost mummified hand rested on the desk, red ring glittering in the candlelight. No one in the village had any idea of what significance the ring held, and he intended to keep it that way. That disc was part of the reason Akatsuki wanted to kill him so badly, aside from the ring. It held all of the knowledge he had about them, down from what he knew of each of their techniques, to
Die Another Day NarutoficThe rain was stopping, but the air remained thick with it, wet and muggy from the heat that lingered in the forest. Kabuto pulled down the hood over his head, his glasses slightly fogged as he glanced to his companion.
"It's stopping," he said quietly, "they'll pick us up soon."
"I know that." The other ninja snapped, shrugging off his own cloak and standing up fully, a lean and dark figure. The medic sighed, standing as well.
"Well then," an irritated voice, "let's go."
It wasn't long at all before the enemy was close again. Even at full speed, the two injured and tired ninjas couldn't out run them. Kabuto cursed his ill luck on this mission, damned from the very beginning.
It was supposed to be a good chance to test Sasuke's skills when one of Orochimaru's spies in the Mist had turned on them, ratting out the location of one of their many bases. It was unoccupied at the time, but the Sannin would lose valuable data in the destruction of it. In retaliation he'd sent Ka
Wood 'n Clay SasoDeiHard, smooth, cold, and unfeeling; those words described the hands that were on his soft and pliant body. Never once did they press too hard, or caress too harshly. Shaping him up like tender clay, all from memory of touch that he no longer had. Soft moans became heavy pants, hands gripping sheets tightly. The cool voice that teased him was completely unfazed, and even that was maddening. Sometimes it just wasn't fair that he was the only one feeling things! It wasn't his fault! His partner had mapped out every part of his fleshy body like he did his damned dolls, knowing which strings to pull and which to stroke for the right reactions. The blonde never failed to be impressed by his Danna.
Cold lips pressed over his, and he kissed back even if he knew it was pointless. Everything was symbolic with them anyway, like playing with wood or clay. He was shaped, and his partner polished. Breathy pants and moans of 'Unn..UNN…' filled the smallish room the blonde resided in as his fingers scr
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