I wasn't sure if people are ready for my realistic headcanons, but finally I just did it. Just in case it's not for everyone.
trigger warning : Involve suicidal thoughts, depression, violence to women and children, panic attack, eroticization of pain, self-hate.
From the time Madara was born Uchiha clan was not anymore a wealthy family. Because of instability, farmers fled combat zone, The lands they owned had become wilderness. Yet they kept their prestige among population and their children still received an education similar to noble family.
He suffered from malnutrition in his childhood, and starved himself to give food to his brothers but thanks to his good stamina it didn't really affect his physical abilities during his youth.
His hair cut, short in front and longer in the back is a result of heavy use of katon which literally burning his locks. But it's part of his charm.
He wore gloves for the same reason, fire makes his skin getting softer and sensitive.
He always has this slightly burning smell on him and all his clothes. It doesn't matter the number of shower or washing machines.
His long mane was not originally for aesthetic purpose, but just carelessness, then an excuse to hide his face and emotions, and finally his trade mark. People were wondering how strong or/and crazy he was to keep such long hair while it was not suitable during a fight. it can be set on fire, wedge in his armour, catch by an opponent...
He was almost blind up to Izuna's death. He expanded greatly his sensorial skills because he needed to rely on it daily.
His insomnia came from overthinking and fear of failure. He rarely sleeps more than 3 hours per night, He occasionally does micro nap (10 min max) during the day.
During his insomnia phases, and if the moon is full to avoid using candles, he read a lot of ancient philosophy, history, military strategy from Uchihas library.
He never married, never had a serious relationship. He had romantic view on someone now and then, but he never pursued it actively. Wars, fear of loosing again someone dear. Plus, he was convinced that his life as shinobi will be short, out of question to leave behind him widow and orphans.
This being said, let's be honest a man with such level of testosterone won't stay virgin all his life. And it's a common knowledge next to any military camp there is always prostitutes. He did his business in total discretion, to the point his clan questioned his orientation. He was a loyal client but cold and distant, ruthless during act, even after years of visiting the same persons.
Like many shinobis, he occasionally was subject of panic attacks. When he felt the symptoms coming, palpitations, pain in his chest ect... he always found a way to isolate himself. His triggers were always fear of loosing people he loves, fear of loosing control of himself, fear of not reaching his objectives. He hated himself when it happens.
He can be very rude and harsh to people. But what he said to others is half as hard he criticise himself daily.
90% of his schedule out of missions or fights were training. His dedication is obsessional.
10% left, during days of celebration, he is pretty good at calligraphy and writing haiku. Because he's a shinobi, he is specialized in death poems that warriors write before going to an important battle. But he burns them as soon as he comes back home. Doesn't want anyone to know about his poetic side at least when he's still alive.
After so many years of receiving punches, his tolerance to pain was extremely high which could be a problem sometimes, while fighting and high by adrenaline he often didn't realise how serious were his wounds.
Considering the number of battles he has been involved his body is covered with scars more or less ugly. And I'm sorry to say it, but I'm sure his face has not been preserved intact. He was kind of reckless during fight and didn't care about his physical appearance.
Paradoxically while he genuinely want to cease war, he find an erotic attraction in fight to death. Like people attracts to extreme sport, he feels the more alive when risking his own.
The reason why there is almost no uchihas kunoichi is practical. They want to preserve their bloodline and a female dead in battlefield is a loss for the future of the clan since they don't married outside their clan. Men would in rare situation when there is no women available but never female uchihas.
They have a practice close to what did Rajput warrior caste in India called Jauhâr , if enemies attack uchihas basement and battle is definitely lost, women of honour are expected to do self-immolation with their children rather than being kidnap, rape or put into slavery.
Like Naruto /Sasuke fight, the valley of the End left him with irreversible wounds, like chronic pains. And probably as well for Hashirama too maybe a slow down to his regenerative cells.
After the valley of the end, it was symbolically the death of his previous life as an uchiha. But he partially lived in his cave. He might occasionally travel undercover to look for informations, and food. It's only after Hashirama's death. He entirely took an ascetic lifestyle, denied of any pleasure, reduce to minimal for surviving. There was nothing anymore who could attached him from this physical world aside his plan. He let the white zetsus doing the main job as spy.
Without Gedo statute he would probably have die before his 40 of general exhaustion. There is always a price to pay when someone burns with such feral intensity his vital energy, submit himself to extreme training since childhood, fighting, lack of sleep, stress, depression. (Itachi can talk about it !)
During his fifty years retreat in the cave when he was not studying for his Moon plan spend 50% of the time within his genjutsu, rewatching endlessly the same memories with Izuna, Hashirama, deceased people he missed from Uchiha clan. And the older he gets, the longer he spend into his illusion. Kind of like an opium addiction.
Mentally he stops ageing at the time Izuna died, around 25. Exactly the appearance he looks when he put Obito into his illusion.
After decades of not seeing Rinnegan appearing he was almost in the verge of giving up the plan of the moon. Black Zetsu was paradoxically the one who save his life many time and put him back in track.
He is not the type to consciously commit suicide, but rather putting himself in suicidal situations like attacking alone an army or neglecting his health. In the cave, he put himself so deeply into his genjutsu that many time he forgot to control his chakra and if black zetsu didn't wake him up he would had just die inside his dream.
And if you want to read more about my Madara's analysis follow me in my main page here
what's bothering you?... a nightmare?...
Do you think madara would have a sweet tooth and enjoy treats or not so much ? What would he fancy ?
What a cute ask! Thank you!
I'm sad to report that Madara probably doesn’t love sweets. He'll eat desserts, but it's not his preferred meal (no second stomach for desserts unlike some of us). In Madara's time, the Warring States Era, conflict and survival were the major preoccupations in everyday life. He simply didn't think about pointless luxuries such as desserts. Heck, he might have not even seen many of Japan's (the Uchiha's culture resembles traditional Japan) cute treats! However, since he's a practical and utilitarian man, he is opportunistic enough to consume whatever extra calories he can during times of war, including desserts that aren't to his tastes.
If he must choose, his preference is for desserts that aren't too rich or sweet, so probably not a heavy chocolate or cheese cake. Possibly a lighter, fluffier version of those though. He loves his green tea, so matcha is a flavour he'd pick for himself. If you enjoy sweets, he will buy you those mochi you were craving as a surprise when he gets home and share them with you (but he'll only eat the single piece to please you) just to see you smile.
(╯ರ ~ ರ)╯︵ ┻━┻ It's finally done! Damnit!
This one took me some time but I did it...
Would you recommend hellsing ?
Of course!! If you look at my recent posts history, you'll see that I'm clearly very biased towards Hellsing (Ultimate). It's about Dracula being the most overpowered being in his verse, who hunts Nazis and who can basically solo the world. Alucard is awesome. You know he's winning every fight, but you still can't help cheering on how he goes about the entire exchange and his attitude towards his opponents. He's violent and scary and enjoys thoroughly squashing his opponents. He'd be an end-game villain if he didn't happen to be on the good guys' team.
Oh and who says stuff like, "It prompts a stirring in my loins" to his boss? Alu does, cuz he just doesn't care and who can really stop him from running his mouth?
He's actually very vulnerable and emotional beneath the veneer of confidence and psycho smiles, which makes me love him more.
There is an Abridged version of Hellsing, which is a parody that is fun to watch once, if only to understand other people's memes. Imo it's just for jokes and misses a lot of the characters' personalities though.
There's also a Castlevania version of Alucard on Netflix, which I haven't watched, but I read that the first few seasons are excellent. It's on my to-do list. This one features a completely different Alucard Tepes, who is the son of Dracula.
“Please hear me God…”
Yo I’m a sucker for this trope in fics, movies, show etc. every time a pairing are getting intimate and one of them caresses their partner’s face and their partner just goes like…
IT JUST MAKES MY HEART GO LIKE
T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, yandere, jealous vampire, centipedes, alcohol consumption & intoxication. Please take the Uber or stay over with your host after a night out and don’t try to walk home alone when you’re almost blackout drunk.
Btw I believe vampires like Alucard are extremely smell-driven. I hope the wait for this chapter was worth it! Happy long weekend Canadian and American readers! Words: 5029 On AO3
A rustle of cloth, a merging with the outer brick walls. With the grace of a summer breeze, the mass of blackness was inside, brushing past the quaint decor of a modest apartment. The vampire was one with the darkness, crawling along the walls, skimming the surfaces of your home to survey his territory. His findings were immediately apparent. He scented the elaborate floral arrangement upon phasing through the walls and making his entrance and approached to inspect it. It was a lovely display of blossoms, dense clusters of blue hyacinths in full bloom threw off their sweet, earthy smells, mixed with orangey-pink roses and dramatic peonies. The arrangement sent a gentle fragrance, which was quite pleasant, wafting throughout your home. The only issue was it also carried the hint of an unfamiliar male's scent. The vampire frowned.
You weren't there, unexpectedly. Alucard spent several minutes poking around, checking the windows and locks as he did the very first time he invited himself in to ensure they were secure. Everything else was as they should be. He glanced once more at the neatly arranged bundle of cut flowers in a vase.
With a swish of his duster tails, the vampire vanished from your home without a word, setting out to haunt the streets and look for his human. ---------------------
“Cheers!” You laughed heartily as you and your family clanged your glasses together. Dinner unfurled over the course of hours, where you noisily exchanged recent amusing stories to catch up. One of them retold the story of their nurse colleague telling the unit administration of a patient’s family complaining about wanting reimbursement for the deceased patient’s bursted breast implants after CPR, only for the admin to find out it was a joke the nurse made up when they were finally ready to go talk to the family. You were howling in laughter because they couldn’t not take such a complaint seriously! In retaliation, the admin arranged for one of the most serious attending physicians to inform that nurse they were being reported to Legal, freaking the nurse out, only to find out immediately that that was also a prank. It was brilliant. You nearly snorted your drink in laughter. The restaurant atmosphere was raucous and electric, but alas, all good things came to an end.
Finally, you had to bid your family a bittersweet goodbye with numerous embraces. Everyone was too drunk to drive home, which was to be expected after not seeing each other in so long. It was a splendid gathering, but maybe you overdid the drinks despite having eaten so much. You waved off their suggestions to book an Uber, stating it was still much earlier in the night than when you normally headed home after work. They were worrying for nothing. The walk will help you clear the alcohol.
You exited at the bus stop nearest your home. For once, there were people around. They chattered with the same excited buzz that mirrored your own earlier. The local shops remained open at this hour to serve the nighttime crowd, yet you couldn’t place what it was that felt off. Brushing the vague feeling of apprehension aside, you rode the high off the fantastic get-together with a feverish spirit and a spring to your steps.
It was now warm day and night. The streets were pleasantly calm despite the occasional clamour. It was nice to see signs of life as you headed home earlier for once. Even if that irritating vampire came to stalk you, so what? You felt as if nothing could dampen your glow tonight.
You were only tipsy, which was the best state of alcohol consumption to be in, in your opinion. Your steps remained steady as you thought about a multitude of things –what activities to pass the time with tomorrow, what to eat, whether you should work extra shifts this week.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you felt the blanket of inebriation fall over you. Your thoughts wandered and seemed less your own. Your gait grew unsteady with more stumbling and weaving as you continued the journey.
You swore you were only tipsy not too long ago. It was an interesting sensation when your mind was still aware of the body not entirely obeying. Luckily, you were able to place one foot in front of the other to take the nearly automated path home, which you knew like the back of your hand, even with the mind becoming clouded and not operating completely voluntarily.
The excitement of the day finally caught up and you were spent. You wanted nothing more than to take off your makeup and fall naked into the welcoming softness of your bed. Closing your eyes briefly felt great, but you abandoned that after a few attempts. You were so much more nauseous with your closed eyes. Uh oh.
Step. Step. Placing a hand on the wall to steady yourself, you looked around. Good, there was the supermarket, followed by the stop sign with an ad for a dog walker nailed to it, as you expected. You were almost home.
It was so quiet now that you reached this part of the neighbourhood. Normally, you were hyper-aware of your surroundings during your nighttime commutes, especially after that vampire started following you around last year, but tonight, you didn’t even hear the leaves rustling or the typical sounds of wildlife and cars. Were you just too drunk tonight to notice the things you should?
How much did you drink? When was the last time you found yourself in this sorry state? Now that you focused on it, you felt the wind blowing and finally rustling the thick foliage of the trees overhead, only gently, yet it fed the nausea. You shoved it down and kept stumbling. Almost there. --------------------
Alucard drifted through the skies, occasionally landing to survey your usual commute routes before alighting once more. It was too soon for you to be coming home on a work night, yet he hadn’t detected your scent at all along your preferred routes to work earlier. It seemed you were free tonight, but weren’t home either.
Twice his supernatural senses identified the signs of ghouls in the vicinity and he made a detour to dispose of them. Several shots to the head each, before he continued his search silently. In truth, only one bullet was required to end either of the ghouls, but Alucard was never one to be frugal with his silver. His jaw tightened. Where there were ghouls, there were usually more, maybe even a vampire.
As he circled restlessly back into your neighbourhood, he happened upon your scent in the air after too long and closed in on his little one, only to be overcome by the sweet smell of alcohol and the stench of vomit. He crept up to examine the sad sight of you hunched over and heaving to dispel the poison in your body. It seemed you were empty, so you stood to continue shuffling along as if nothing had happened after a swipe of the mouth. He was strangely irritated. Were you even aware of the risks you took tonight?
“How pitiful. And utterly stupid of you.”
Oh. You felt so ill. Did someone say something? Very belatedly, you turned to address the noise. Something huge and red was approaching from behind and you tensed up, fearing the worst. Oh. You tried to focus. It was only Alucard. A confusing feeling of relief washed over you, which was almost comical. Since when did seeing your stalker feel reassuring?
The vampire caught the passing sentiment before his attention snapped back as you started giggling. “I can see your eyes in the shadows. You don’t scare me anymore.” Your palm pressed against your lips as you kept laughing to yourself.
Crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he loomed near. “You were not home tonight,” he murmured.
"No really? You aren’t my dad. I don't have to justify where I am to you," you slurred and wagged a finger at him, then turned and sashayed away like a queen with the vampire following a few paces behind.
Step, step, step.
Perhaps you weren’t as close to home as you thought. Did you remember the path wrong? No, the supermarket, the stop sign. You sighed. So tired. It felt like your mind was wrapped in cotton candy. Squinting, you sat down gingerly on the curb to think about where you were.
“I’m only taking a short break,” you garbled to your companion.
You fell asleep sitting on the curb, leaving the nightwalker staring incredulously, even if it wasn’t apparent on his face. Now that you were away from the pool of vomit, he detected the scent of other men on you. He frowned again. He didn’t like waiting, and the irritation grew stronger with each whiff.
You eventually came to and started to walk again, only to sit down with crossed legs in the middle of the street for another break not long after as you wondered why this was taking so long.
This was ridiculous. Alucard stood over you, bent down, and plucked you off the ground, swinging you smoothly into a bridal carry. You were already blacked out. Distaste that even the vomit didn’t elicit nipped at his consciousness, but with your comfortable weight in his arms and his scent rubbing off on your body, everything became more tolerable.
Your eyes were shut and being off your feet was comfortable, but the repetitive up and down movement was jarring. Why were you sloshing around up and down? Overcome with nausea, you couldn’t hold it anymore. “!!!” You threw up against a velvety, solid surface and felt instant relief before fading away.
Having arrived at your building, Alucard huffed at the odor and the inconvenience of your vomit on his chest. He gently placed you on the ground and turned immaterial so that the emesis puddled at the ground before he reformed a few paces away and picked you back up.
A silver vehicle slowed as it passed him. What a bother. He seemed to be quick to aggravate tonight. Alucard slipped off his orange-tinted sunglasses with an extra hand and held the driver captive with his bewitching gaze when they ignorantly made direct eye contact.
There is nothing wrong.
T-there is…n-nothing wrong. A small voice repeated.
The vehicle drove off, leaving the two of you alone once more. He stared at your delicate features. Disregarding the show you put on earlier, you looked peaceful now. The handsome vampire sauntered to the side of the building and casually strolled up the wall under the cover of darkness before stepping onto the balcony. With just a thought, it unlocked itself and he brought his cargo inside to carefully unload onto the couch.
He was on the other couch as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest and listened to your rhythmic breathing. Somehow you managed to spare your clothing a bath in your own stomach contents. His eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line as the stench of foreign males on your body invaded his senses again. The flowers only annoyed him now. His fingers tapped along the armrest as he kept taking in your features. --------------------
It must have been only around a quarter hour later when you stirred. You were dazed and jumpy when you made out the glowing crimson orbs fixed on you. With a nervous glance back at Alucard's inhuman gaze, you stumbled through the dark, making your way to the washroom for a quick shower and to remove the makeup. You experienced an episode of dry-heaving, but thankfully, there was nothing left to hurl. You brushed your teeth.
You were indeed less intoxicated now. How humiliating to be seen the way you were. Still…Alucard helped keep you safe tonight while you floundered about the streets like a proper drunkard. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror and acknowledged how you looked as terrible as you felt. Some food would help settle your stomach right now.
As you made your way down the hall, the lights came on for you. Alucard’s doing. There he was, staring imperiously at you with his legs crossed. The hat and jacket were still on.
“I…um…”
“...”
“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Um, I don’t want to look at alcohol right now haha,” you stated sheepishly.
“...” His eyes were so very red and luminous. Did he look displeased?
Unsure of how to act right now, you broke eye contact first and looked everywhere except in his direction. “How about something to eat?” You awkwardly stuck a hashbrown and some frozen nuggets into the small countertop convection oven and waited for him to say something.
“Attempting to come home alone in your state was unwise, human.”
Part of you wanted to argue, only because that was how you were used to interacting with him, but he was right. You’ve made better life decisions before.
“It was…” Your head hung low. “Thank you for bringing me home tonight,” you mumbled.
Alucard’s gaze softened, even if the tingle of vexation remained at the back of his mind. His eyes closed as he exhaled. “Coffee. Just black.” Crimson irises spun into a lovely sunset hue.
Your brows lifted at his sudden change in demeanor as you looked back at him before rushing to prepare his beverage. French press was your preferred method. Soon enough, you had a steaming cup of black in front of him.
You sat by yourself at the table while nibbling on your small portion of greasy comfort food. It was stranger than ever tonight when you didn’t feel like snapping at your guest. Was this creature worried about you? Why did he help you? Was it so that only he got to have you? All he ever did was torment you, but tonight, through the fog of the fragmented pieces you remembered, he was almost…kind.
The coffee smelled a blend of smoky and nutty, a heavenly mixture nearly as good as what Walter served. The taste…Alucard smiled bitterly. It must be delicious, but it was nothing more than piss water to his vampiric taste buds. The joys of food consumption were a distant memory from lifetimes ago and one of the few things he missed about his human life. Watching the effort you put into preparing each meal, studying your eating habits and your enjoyment of your meals truly made him nostalgic.
“How is the coffee?” You ventured a question.
“Excellent.” Alucard finished the glass without a hint of betraying his true thoughts on your first demonstration of hospitality towards him.
So vampires can drink coffee. You wondered what else he consumed besides the obvious. Chewing lightly on the corner of your lower lip, you crossed your ankles, then uncrossed them immediately when it didn't feel as comfortable as expected. There was a spider crawling across the corner of the ceiling. You brought your gaze back down from the arachnid to stare at the cuticles of your nails.
It was so quiet tonight, you realized as you shifted your weight again. Was there no one else at home on the floor? As always, he was staring so intently, like he was trying to bore holes through your head. You swallowed before getting up and going over to your new flowers, missing your guest's deep frown.
His human was anxious. You were, as was often the case, intensely uncomfortable in his presence. Not only did the sour tang waft off your pores, you wouldn't stop fidgeting in your seat, although he wasn't even attempting the things he usually did to distress you. Alucard's frown grew as he watched you put your nose in the blooms to sniff and then sigh.
How nauseating. "Lovely blooms, little one."
"Yes they were a gift from a friend." Your expression was soft.
You were recalling another man fondly, one you were barely acquaintances with. A friend. His eyes hardened into slits, nostrils flaring at the scent he was forced to inhale a thousand times more powerfully than you ever could, even from a distance.
His satisfaction about your new hospitality was gradually fading away, only to be replaced with inexplicable agitation. Gloved fingers drummed restlessly against the plush armrest.
"Human courtship is such a delicate ritual, entirely lacking in creativity or passion," he commented.
You tensed. "It was a sweet gesture. Not everyone is as uncouth as some."
A challenge? A devilish grin painted his lips and he chuckled in anticipation. He loved when you fought.
"Your florals, the prized jewels cut from their mother plants at the height of their prime? Doomed to perish within the week. Elegant as they are, they're a fleeting beauty, nothing more than the living dead clinging pathetically to a semblance of life," he stated wryly.
There it was, the vampire's freaky smile. Reminding yourself that nothing had changed between you, that he was still an infuriating ass, you retorted, "Human courtship should be slow. Morbid as your comparison was, flowers are a symbol of romance and love, not that someone like you would know about those things, even if you were human at some point."
"Love?” He cocked his head. "I do know of that emotion." His eyes flashed dangerously as he rose from the couch to stalk closer with his fangs bared, causing you to stagger backwards from your spot in alarm. The chair you sat in earlier fell over with a clatter, and for several seconds, you stared at each other silently. You didn't dare blink in those moments as your breath hitched, your pupils were dilated and veins coursing with adrenaline, the entirety of your attention focused on the supernatural creature who stood like a reaper in your living room.
The truce was over, you realized, and you fought to blink back tears. Alucard didn't do more to threaten you, but the situation took a nosedive for the worse during the last few minutes of exchange. Feeling like you were backed into a corner with no way to turn the conversation around, you excused yourself meekly and headed for bed, exhausted, the vampire luckily not pressing you more for now, though he tracked your movement with predatory precision as you brushed past him.
Alucard watched the bedroom door shut, followed by the distinctive click of the lock turning, as if that would keep a monster out. But you knew as well as he did that the locked door was merely symbolic. He was unwelcome in the inner haven of your refuge. He tasted the salt of your tears as clearly as he heard the sobs from beyond that door. The trail of fear you left in your wake annoyed him right now, with this revelation only serving to annoy him even further in a cyclical loop. What was this feeling? For him, your fear was normally a reliable source of arousal and delight.
He redirected his thoughts away from the troublesome emotion and replayed tonight’s events. You unknowingly put yourself in danger, not only from the undead. The night streets were not a place for a naive little human such as yourself. There were plenty of unsavoury outcomes he listed to himself when he was combing the streets for signs of your presence, only to finally find you delirious from drink and vulnerable. It was a relief no one else got to you first.
After the shower, you were thankfully cleansed of the filth of another male's touch, yet you also removed his scent from your skin. He couldn’t find the word to describe the feeling, but he was malcontent with tonight's turn of events.
Historically, he was not averse to sharing his human companions. Man, woman, something else, it mattered little to him. There was a hedonistic gluttony to enjoying the flesh of multiple humans simultaneously. It wasn't completely true when he said he didn't eat human flesh. Through lidded eyes, he imagined the taste of your skin and salivated. How sweet would the slick of your flower be? What did your petals look like? Yet the idea of another’s touch on your skin was simply distasteful. He growled in a low, threatening pitch that was nearly imperceptible to human ears.
He was a king. But he could be an uncouth savage as well.
---------------------
You woke up in the middle of the night feeling parched. Despite the snack earlier, you still felt the hangover developing. There was a pounding headache in your temples and persistent nausea that made it feel like your stomach was going to devour itself. The clock read 0440. Even if your room was pitch black thanks to the blackout curtains, it was almost sunrise during these warm summer months and the vampire surely must be gone. You needed some water.
It was still dark outside when you emerged from slumber and felt around along the wall for where you expected the light switch to be, only to have something hairy rush across your fingers. You pulled back in shock. What was that? Something small and fuzzy brushed against your foot and you shot backwards, crushing another little thing underfoot with a quiet crunch.
Then you heard it, the eerie scuttering of legs…like millions of tiny taps that coalesced into a symphony of rustling noise. You stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, trying to make sense of what was going on to cause such a disturbance when the lights suddenly came back on by themselves.
You stayed frozen as you blinked blindly in the garish light before letting out a soundless gasp at the disgusting sight that greeted you. Unable to process it, you only trembled in horrified disbelief. They were everywhere, thousands, no, possibly hundreds of thousands or more, of centipedes scampering freely, covering every surface in your home. They formed a writhing, undulating mass of scurrying legs that made the walls come alive with movement. More daring specimens ran across your feet and you madly kicked your feet to keep them clear.
It was revolting, truly a thing of nightmares.
Finally, you screamed.
“A-ah…AHH. AHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH.” With your lips tremoring, you caught your breath as the realization of what you were looking at settled in. Centipedes. Why centipedes?! You hated the nasty critters –the more legs, the more harrowing they were. Several leggy abominations tried to scurry up your legs.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”
If this was a joke, he went way too far. You screamed and screamed and screamed, until the damned beast stole your voice to silence you, and still you tried to scream.
Thousands of eyes opened on the walls and floor of your home, and he appeared in the middle of it all, surrounded by an ominous crimson aura and a gigantic eye on his chest, his pet centipedes crawling up his torso.
You clenched your eyes to protect yourself from the sickening sight, your revulsion rolling off of you in waves as your throat finally gave in. You were coughing and hyperventilating as he approached with a frown and furrowed brows while you batted wildly at the air to keep him at bay. At last you found your voice again and you shrieked for him to leave with a hoarse voice.
“What is wrong with you?! Nevermind, just get out! I don’t want to see you!” Your eyes snapped open and you stared at him with a frenzied look. “I’m not yours or your toy! You’re just this thing that follows me around and won’t let me be!” You sobbed, your hands flapping in the air as you gestured to make your point clearer.
When the monster didn’t say anything, you continued. "I don't want you! You can have anyone you want, just leave me alone!" Your voice broke and you trailed off with a whimper as you buried your face in your hands and wept in despair.
The centipedes dissolved into nothing like they were never there. The eyes disappeared. Alucard took another step towards you awkwardly, intending to provide comfort, only to realize he didn’t know how. Your tears bothered him, confused him, and he was stung by the rejection. He somehow didn’t like how he upset you this time.
“Why can’t you just find another toy to play with? I don’t want to be part of your twisted games anymore.” Your face must be so swollen from the crying. Your vision was blurred from the tears and you could hardly breathe through the snot and the hiccups.
There was banging on your door. “Is everything okay in there?” It must be the friendly neighbour down the hall coming to check in on the commotion. You gasped and turned to Alucard with a distraught expression as you swiped at your eyes, hoping against all odds he wasn’t going to retaliate against the good Samaritan for the disturbance.
His face was shadowed. All these disruptions tonight. All is well. Leave us. He directed the thought towards the nosy human outside in the hall.
The neighbour knocked again, albeit more hesitantly while calling out your name. Alucard’s lips curled. He strode to the entrance, shocking you out of your stupor and you rushed after him in dread, grabbing his hand to stop him from…you weren’t sure. Was he going to kill your friend on the other side of the door? All you knew was that Alucard was extremely dangerous right now, but your weight did nothing to slow him.
He ripped open the door and glared at your neighbour while you dangled off his arm. The smell hit him. This…was the same man who gave you those fucking flowers, who you thought of fondly earlier. He hissed and the man lurched back from the towering menace in front of him. The hiss warped into a growl and the vampire took another step forward, sadistic pleasure filling his mind as the scent of absolute fear from the craven piece of rubbish permeated the hall.
“Alucard! Alucard!” A familiar voice called him with urgency. It was a voice he dreamt of when his dreams weren’t filled with violence, pain, and humiliation. It was you.
Alucard came back to himself and saw you. He glanced at the man outside, who had fallen over on his ass and urinated himself, before looking back at you. You were still tugging at his gangly arm, staring at him with huge frightened eyes, an imploring look in your face that begged him to stop. He composed himself. His human was begging him for something only he could provide, even if it was something as simple as ‘not ending the life of the other man in front of him.’ You even used his name.
He nearly laughed, the crimson in his eyes were molten. “There is nothing wrong here. Forget everything that happened,” he ordered the beleaguered human man sitting in rank piss, who gawped at the profane beast in a trance before the door shut on his face.
Inside the condo, Alucard turned his attention back to you with a sideways glance. You thought he didn't want you, Alucard realized. You assumed he was still only toying with you, that you were just a quarry animal for him to trifle with in his spare time. What was this feeling? This unpalatable feeling of distress at the thought of you by another’s side without him?
“...You…are not a mere toy.”
You remained petrified after just narrowly averting one disaster. Your puffy red eyes met his. “Then what am I, if not a toy? What is this?” You asked with a whisper and released his arm.
His gaze flickered briefly to the floral arrangement, but you caught it. Realization dawned as you suddenly understood what just happened tonight with clarity. All this, because of some bloody flowers? He was silently looking at you with his hands at his side, his head at a slight tilt.
You went rigid. It was with trepidation regarding any more confrontation when you started speaking again, trying desperately to put your rambling thoughts into coherent sentences. “No, no, no, no, no, don’t say it. What you’re feeling, it’s just possessiveness and jealousy. You don’t actually care about human life. A selfish monster with no obligations or morals, as if something like you would ever understand what love is. You can pretend, but in the end, your obsession is nothing but a poor imitation."
The creature’s expression fell the tiniest fraction. It was indiscernible if you weren't already looking at him through glassy eyes. You would feel guilty about it if you weren't so incensed by his idea of a joke and drained by all that transpired.
He brushed away the disappointment from your rejection. Possession. Yes, it was what the vampire King wanted, to have you. He needed to show you. Pushing down the discomfort, he reacted aggressively to your words, a gloved hand shooting out to scruff you by the front of your shirt and pull you roughly to him.
“You are mine.”
Cold lips slammed against yours with a growl. You slapped him and staggered away, the sharp sound of the impact cutting through the muted background noises of your home.
"Get out," you ground out. His three simple words confirmed everything you said moments ago.
The vampire stalked towards you and you felt the chill down your spine. Hellfire. Those were the eyes of a remorseless murderer, but you didn’t back down from the threat.
“What? Are you going to kill me?”
He snorted and caged you against the wall with his arms. “As if you are worth killing. Treat your life with more reverence, foolish human.”
Wearing an aggrieved smile, his gaze ran slowly down the contours of your face. The rising sun casted a rosy hue across the sky, his body backlit by the gentle golden rays of promise. You couldn’t help but stare. The vampire looked nearly ethereal in this light.
Alucard closed his eyes and withdrew. There was nothing more to be said and he should be returning. A new day was dawning. Sparing one last look back at you, he disappeared and left you alone, as you had wished.
~To be Continued~
Holy shit!!
Pairing: God!Madara Uchiha x Reader
Genre: Oneshot, filthy filthy smut
Word Count: 6.6k
Warnings: too many to count, afab!reader, rough sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, the Uchiha breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, aphrodisiacs, Madara has a big dick Uchiha, blindfolds, hands are tied, stomach bulge, mating press, overstimulation, some temperature play, strong language
A/N: This monstrosity has way too many tags, forgive me if I didn't tag every kink. Honestly this was only supposed to have like, two kinks or so, but uh obviously that did not happen and I'm not sorry about it. If this one does well enough I plan on writing a Sacrificed for each of the founders trio, and if I feel the inspiration after that I could add other Naruto characters as well so, let me know if that's something you'd be interested in.
A HUGE thank you to @therantingfangirl for helping me edit this oversized self indulgence! She's the best you guys, I love her and you should send some love her way! This wouldn't have been out as quickly, and would've had many more typos lol, if not for her. So tell her thank you for me~
edit 7/30/22: WE NOW HAVE ART!! A biiiig huge thank you to the amazing @skydaddy01 for their incredible art. They did a fanfuckingtastic job creating god!Madara's appearance, especially with so little to go off of because I'm bad at asking for things. Seriously, go check them out, especially if you like the art~
Read it on AO3
Villagers scattered about, decorating homes and streets alike, preparing drums and costumes with jovial attitudes; the excitement was palpable. Most everyone looked forward to the Festival of the Sun, it was hard not to! The music, the ritual dancing, the offerings of food and wine to the gods as well as loved ones were certainly something to be excited about. The festivities themselves lasted for an entire week. It had to in order to entice him down from his place of rest. He was hard to excite, after all.
The Festival of the Sun is performed once a year before the cold season begins in order to plead with the sun god for protection from death during the upcoming frost. At the peak of the festivities, a living sacrifice is offered to the deity, but seldom does he come down. Most sacrifices come back without having even felt his presence, however throughout the history of the festival there were rare instances of his sacrifice being found dead at the end of the celebrations. The manner of death was always the same, burnt from the inside out. These instances came to be synonymous with having met him.
That fact made you, the sacrifice chosen for the upcoming celebrations, a bit nauseated. The idea of meeting the sun god made you nervous for many reasons; you were his devout follower, a young peasant chosen by the temple due to your dedication to your faith. At least, that’s what they told you when they notified you of your impending position. Your faith was well known in the village, you made the hike to his temple every two days without fail and prayed for hours in his sanctuary as well as volunteered to help clean the entirety of his temple.
His statues had always entranced you and you often wondered if that was what he really looked like. Was he really that tall and broad? Certainly awe inspiring if true. You’d run the soapy cloth along the carvings of his hair and close your eyes, guiltily pretending you were running your fingers through his majestic locks, it was so long, and the artist made it look so wild and untamed, giving his likeness a dangerous edge that made you bite your bottom lip. It would not be an exaggeration to say you were attracted to your god, or rather to the idea of him.
You had never met him or even heard his words as some priests had claimed to have heard. The high priest, the one who informed you of your role in the festivities, had said that your devotion moved the god and he had asked for you; that made you roll your eyes. As if the sun god himself would ask for you. The odd one, no family or friends, let alone a dating history, or anything of the sort that would catch the attention of anyone let alone such a powerful and incredible god. No matter, it would just mean another year without his appearance, though there is the possibility he’s so enraged by your presentation that he decides to burn you like the others.
He was not known for his mercy, after all. His lust for blood was legendary and his rivalry with the god of the forests still affects humanity despite their typically dormant state. Their battles have scored the earth and ruined oceans, much to the god of the sea’s displeasure. The temple texts state that the gods of forest and sun reawaken every century to continue their discourse. Were the previously killed sacrifices burned for his amusement or was he displeased with their appearance? Being burnt from the inside out at the hands of your beloved deity, was that your destined end?
As you contemplated your possible demise, the festival began. For the first three days your job was to stay in the temple. You were to pray all day, bathe in the ceremonial waters, and eat only the fruits provided. Each day the ceremonial drumming, which was performed as the sun began to set and would continue until sunrise, could be heard despite the temples stone walls. Their beat entrancing and familiar. It gave you something to look forward to as you prayed without response.
On the fourth day you weren’t allowed to eat anything, only drink a strangely viscus and milky liquid with no taste that left the core of your being feeling cold. The usual warm bath with citrus scents was replaced with the same cold and thick liquid you were forced to drink. Are they trying to give me a cold before they send me to my death? You thought as you shivered. The older priestesses were made to wash you, they rubbed the fluid into every part of your being. Maybe I’ll freeze before I’m burnt alive.
It was almost like a massage, the way the older women prepared you. The way they rubbed the fluid into the flesh of your breasts made you blush, and the blush only deepened when your sex was given the same amount of attention and pressure. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The feeling was a bit unusual. Heat began to swirl in your center, and it helped you fight off the cold for the rest of the bath.
When you were brought out of the bath rolls of white and red silk were draped around your body in odd patterns. The material itself felt wonderful but they tied the red pieces around your arms and neck, while the white silk they used to bind your chest and cover your mound. It was an odd feeling, only being partially dressed and your abdomen being bare made you flush in embarrassment. They tied your hair back in a braid that was as long as your hair would allow, and they twisted the same type of red silk around it. You were not allowed to look at your own appearance and one of the women led you out of the temple without so much as a word.
Once outside you began to shiver again and your bare feet gracing the soft grass only made you feel colder. The breeze made goose flesh begin to rise along your skin and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and keep warm. Sounds of the villagers enjoying the festival gave you something to focus on. What would you be doing, if you were not here? Enjoying some wine perhaps, dancing around the oversized fire that was lit in your god’s honor? Mmm maybe even enjoying a full plate of roast boar, your stomach grumbled at the thought.
A group of priests, including the high priest, emerged from the temple and began to lead you further to the west of the temple. On that side there was a trail. Most everyone knew of the trail, but it was not to be used by anyone but the blessed. It led up to the highest peak in the valley and at the top stood a temple made specifically to hold the sun god’s presence when he graced the earth.
The high priest ushered you onto the trail and began to walk in front of you, the others following behind. The entire hike up felt very stiff and uncomfortable, it made you more nervous than you already were. The high priest stopped, as did you, right before the doors to the sacred temple. It was much grander, the walls made of marble instead of stone with gold gilded doors and carvings of suns in the luxurious columns. A strong wind practically blew through you, and you wondered if you’d ever feel warm again. A quick glance around at the people meant to guide you made your stomach twist in knots. They all had such grave expressions. You wondered what was next and began to try to convey your question with your eyes but they refused look at you. “Um,” you began. “Excuse-“
A loud shout rang out from the village, the signal to start the drums. Startled, you glanced at the sky and saw that the sun had begun to set. The high priest turned and walked until he was right in front of you. He began to press a large flask of what looked to be the same viscous liquid into your hands while a different priest came behind you and began to tie a red ribbon made of the same silk tightly around your eyes. The cool material caused your heart to beat as hard as the drums. “Drink this once the sun has fully set, there will be more inside, be sure to drink all of it throughout the next few days.”
Your breathing picked up. Someone, you weren’t sure who, began to tie your wrists together in front of you. “Do not attempt to look at him,” the high priest spoke again. “Do not try to touch him, only he can initiate contact. You may roam around the temple but do not leave it.” How did he expect you to roam without being able to see? “We will be back at the end of the festival to collect you, do as we say and as he says and you will survive,” he paused, “probably.”
You nodded nervously; you couldn’t see his face but could feel the sense of dread in the air. “Alright, let us begin.” Someone began to push you forward and you felt your bare feet touch the chilled marble, heard the large doors creak open, and felt the plush of a cushion as they sat you down on the floor. Once their touch left you, the sense of foreboding increased. When you heard the door slam shut you knew you were alone.
You could hear the high priest begin a prayer outside the door, though it was rather muffled, you pressed your fingers against each other, and you tried to calm your nerves by joining in on the prayer. “Allow your warmth to protect and guide me,” you muttered. After a moment’s hesitation you added, “and your cruelty to pass over me.” And altogether you ended the prayer with an ‘amen’ though yours felt a tad more strained.
Through the blindfold you could make out vague shapes thanks to the small amounts of light; but that was all you could see, and once the sun set you would essentially be blind. You stayed seated for a time and fiddled with the flask that you had been given. The wrappings around your wrists weren’t painful or too constricting but they did limit what you could do. How were you supposed to stay like this for four nights and three days? “Where even is the restroom?” You glanced around at the shapes that made up what you could see. “Do gods even use the restroom?”
After a few more minutes of fretting and shaking you decided to stand and try to figure out what was in the room. You placed your arms out in front of you. Your hands may have been bound but you were still able to grab a hold of things. The temperature of the temple was colder than the temperature outside, it was similar to the biting chill of the nights in the cold season. At this point you wondered if you were doomed to die from frostbite. The tips of your fingers scraped against the cold marble of the walls, and you continued to glide your hands along the carvings to guide you through the area. As your vision began to worsen you knew the sun was almost under the mountain.
Your fingers brushed against a metal decoration and you began to explore the piece to the best of your abilities. It felt like a throne, a large one, with a cushion made of the same type of silk that was draped around you. The size of the throne made it feel a bit more like a small loveseat, you couldn’t imagine it being too comfortable with all the surrounding metals. Beside the throne seemed to be a short table with a pitcher atop it. The pitcher was carved, and you could tell it was well crafted by running your fingers along the object. It felt much too light to be filled with anything, much to your chagrin. You had been hoping for a sip of real water.
While there was still a bit of sunlight left you decided to try to explore the center of the room a bit more. You walked cautiously from the throne to the middle of the area and saw a shadow that seemed to be a table or something similar. It was a bit tall to be a table and you placed your hands on it and felt that it was also made of a cold marble. There were no chairs around it and as your fingers brushed along the edges you felt that there were words engraved on it. You wondered if they were gilded with gold like the carvings on the outer columns had been. Slowly, you attempted to read what was engraved around the table. “A sacrifice of flesh and blood,” you muttered. “Well, that would be me.”
“Is that right?”
You flinched. That was not a voice you recognized. It was deep and alluring, with an inflection that sounded almost amused. The man’s voice had come from behind you, where you remembered the throne being. Cautiously, you turned toward where you thought the voice was coming from but immediately had to squeeze your eyes shut. All there was in that direction was a bright light, like the sun itself had come to rest in front of you. Wait, your breath caught in your throat. The sun itself?
“A-Are you perhaps-“
“Yes?”
You felt so hesitant. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest, the urge to drop down on your knees and bow was at the forefront of your mind. There was a warmth, an intense but welcome warmth, that began to move toward you. Your eyes were still closed tight; even behind the blindfold his brightness was too much. Like a warm breath it felt like his presence was closer, but you weren’t sure how close. Without much more thought, you gave into your urge and got down to your hands and knees with your head resting atop your extended arms on the floor. Even the floor felt warmer now than it had before his arrival. “My lord!”
“Hm, not quite as interesting as I was expecting.” He sounded so close, almost as if he was directly above you. “But not altogether unpleasant.”
Your skin began to tingle from the contrast in temperature. Hot and cold. Internally, you still felt like you were freezing but externally his presence had warmed everything to such a degree it felt like you might melt. Lightly, it felt like just the tips of his fingers, began to trial down your exposed spine, like he was counting vertebrae. Again, your bottom lip felt the sting of your teeth as your mind reeled at not only meeting but being touched by your god. The same god whose likeness you had thought of in some not so holy ways.
“Is it still too bright?”
“P-Pardon?”
“I understand that my presence tends to be overwhelming for human eyes, shall I dim myself?” He answered his own question, as the harsh biting against your eyelids seemed to lessen and instead of a sun his presence looked more like a group of brightly lit candles. It hurt still, but you were finally able to open your eyes. You wanted to look at him, wanted to take the blindfold off and gaze upon his glory but you kept your head down, afraid of the consequences of doing so. “Thank you for your consideration, my lord.”
“Still so polite,” his dry chuckle was like velvet in your ears. You shivered, but not from fear or temperature; you wanted to hear him speak more. The pleasing thought of having him order you around floated about in your mind. Warm, overly warm, fingers gripped your chin roughly and had you look up at the veiled view of his face. “I like how you’ve thought about me a lot better than the way you’re speaking to me now.”
Your heart hiccupped. Your thoughts of him!? You could feel the color drain from your face. All the unsavory thoughts you had about his image filtered through your mind at once. The few times you had touched yourself had also been to ideas of him. Would he kill you now for your blasphemous behavior? Was he aware of all of them? That rich chuckle continued to fill your ears, much more amused this time, and he turned your head from side to side as if in assessment of a product at the market. “Don’t be so nervous, child. You act like I’m going to burn you alive.”
You were pretty sure he might.
There were no details, but from his outline it seemed like the statue was rather accurate. His hair was long, spiked, and wild like the mane of a lion; his shoulders broad and perfectly set. He barely had a hold on your chin but the bits of his fingers you could feel felt strong, large, and overly warm. The high priest had told you not to look at him but maybe? Just a peek? “Can I remove the-“
“Do you want to go blind?”
“What?”
“Do you think you can stare directly at the sun without repercussions? You’ll go blind if you look at me with your naked eye.”
“Oh,” you pressed your lips together, your cheeks red with embarrassment. “Right, yes, that makes sense.”
“Eager to see your god, are we?”
You wanted to nod but refrained and he let go of your chin. “You haven’t finished the elixir yet.” He said it as a statement of fact and let out a sigh that sounded exasperated. The blood in your veins rushed at a dizzying pace and you felt panic begin to rise in your throat. Had you displeased him? Would he leave because of it? Anything but that.
“I hadn’t realized the time, please forgive-“ Wet warm lips pressed against yours midsentence. It was intense and hot, so very hot. One of his large hands grabbed the back of your head roughly, forcing you to tilt your head back and he tugged on the braid. The surprise made you flinch, and your mouth opened slightly, but it was enough for him. He began to force a liquid into your mouth from his. It was different from the others; it had a sweet taste to it that sat heavy in your center. The warmth of his lips felt like it might burn, but the cool of the liquid soothed it almost immediately. The contrast made you moan, and his tongue began to enter your mouth.
Your eyes squeezed shut and you began to feel turned on as his tongue caressed and pulled at your own. Were you allowed to kiss back? How was this supposed to work? Another noise escaped you as his tongue scraped against the roof of your mouth, slowly and with intent. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to calm down. He pulled away slowly, allowing his tongue to linger against yours in the space between you. The sun god chuckled once again, “That face is rather enticing.”
If only you could see what face it was. His touch left you and the warmth of his being began to dissipate. “Resting for so long can be quite boring,” he began, his voice sounded like it was back at the throne. When you opened your eyes you could see the light of his being further back, it seemed as if he was sitting on the golden décor. It almost looked like he was slouched, with one hand against the arm rest and his head on his fist, but that was just your assumption. You had no way of seeing the details of his form. “So, while we wait for the elixir to kick in, entertain me.”
Entertain? How? Should you ask? What if that angered him? He didn’t seem like the patient sort. You heard a sound similar to liquid filling a basin and saw him shift as it looked like he may be drinking. Your heart pounded in your ears in time with the beat of the drums that boom from below. Oh, was that it? At this point in the evening, for the festival, everyone would be dancing. Is that what he wanted? The dance was created for his worship, after all.
You stood on nervous legs, your hands still bound, and listened patiently to the beat. When you felt you had a good enough idea of the rhythm you began the dance. It was fast, continuously moving, with moves similar to dodging attacks in a spar. When the drum paused you twisted your spine and bent backward, almost hitting the sacrificial table behind you, and stretch your arms up behind your head to touch the cool marble. The stretch made you feel exposed. Your neck, abdomen, and legs were on full display. As the pause remained, so did your position. It was difficult, but the dance seemed to warm you up. You felt the flush travel across your body, and you began to feel rather thirsty. You resumed at the same time as the drums.
Everything seemed to disappear as the song continued. Your muscles began to loosen, your tension nonexistent, you completely forgot where you were or why you were even dancing in the first place. It was like you were hypnotized to follow the music. One foot out in front and the other behind, your hands pushed out in front almost like you were begging. Everything felt warm now, your breathing was labored from exertion. Much to your embarrassment, even your core felt a bit sticky. Your hair began to frame your face and you barely registered that the braid had come loose. “Keep dancing,” came his silken command. So, you did.
His approach was harder to feel this time, the difference in temperature not quite as stark, but when his hand caressed the side of your neck you gasped at the excess heat. “I didn’t say you could stop.”
Right, more dancing.
One of his hands remained at your neck, curling around it like a collar and restricting your movements. You couldn’t move away from him without feeling choked. His other hand slid down the length of your swaying curves, from the tops of your covered breasts to the dip of your hips where the white ribbon was tied. The heat was almost sweltering and the ache in your sex began to grow. He tugged and the silk around your waist began to slip away, creating static as it fell from your flesh.
You couldn’t help but stop, your senses now fully focused on your naked lower half. Without the cloth your arousal was even more obvious, its evidence sticking to your thighs. “I don’t like to repeat myself,” he growled so close to your ear. A shiver wracked your form, and you did your best to start moving again, but his hand inching toward your center made you lose your rhythm and your movements became awkward. His hot tongue began to lick a stripe along the red silk wrapped around your collar bone. His warm fingers began to stroke the plush flesh of your mound. A fresh wave of slick began to coat your labia.
“Mm,” you pressed your lips together. You felt like you were on fire. “My lord, please,” you whispered, not entirely sure what you were asking for.
“Tsk, you know my name. Say it.”
He was giving you permission to call him by name? His fingers trailed down and began to stroke the naked flesh of your sex. The amount of wetness made the sounds of his fingers vulgar as he moved them back and forth against the sensitive skin. Your head fell back, and you gasped, his warm fingers immediately zeroing in on your clit. The heat was overwhelming, adding extra stimulation to your already pulsing bud. Your core began to clench, and your hips reflexively bucked toward his hand. “Go on,” he chided. “Say the name of your god, tell him how badly you want him to finger you.”
Your vagina pulsed at the thought. Saying his real name was taboo in the temple, but he was giving you permission. It was impossible to think, his fingers sped up their assault. Only incoherent noises left your throat as your knees began to buckle. How were you this close already? The hand that was around your neck squeezed teasingly, cutting off your air flow temporarily, before moving down to support your lower back as your legs threatened to give out. Instinctively you reached out and tried to use his arm for support before immediately pulling your hands back. They burned, like you had touched a hot stove.
“Do not try to touch him, only he can initiate contact.” The high priest’s words rang out in your mind.
“Weren’t you warned pet?” His head leaned down to your burnt hands, his fingers not ceasing, and he licked along your palms as if to soothe them. The mixture of pain and pleasure only brought you closer to the edge and you began to buck your hips in earnest. Your pleasured noises began to grow into full moans as you approached your peak.
Quickly, without warning, he removed his fingers from your clit and unceremoniously thrust two inside of your entrance. It burned, the heat and the pain of the stretch, but it brought you over the edge anyway. He hadn’t even had to move his fingers and you were already clenching down on them. Tears welled in your eyes behind the blindfold, and you called out, “Ahh, Madara!”
“How cute,” he announced, his voice a note or two deeper, the arm that was supporting you was trembling. “So eager that you came just from having my fingers inside you?”
Madara began to move his fingers, slow and deliberate, making sure to scrape them against your walls and ensuring that pain accompanied the pleasure. He moved his mouth to your neck and tugged at the red ribbon, untying it with his teeth and exposing the rest of your body to his gaze. He began to scissor your entrance and you felt the tightness in your gut return. “Such a naughty human, touching yourself to the thought of your god. Did you think I wasn’t watching? Did you think I wouldn’t know?”
You felt like you were burning, and you heard the juices of your arousal splash against your skin. His thick fingers began to thrust quickly, and he brought his palm up to rub at your sensitive clit. A whine left your throat. He continued his verbal assault. “I watched you each and every time you called out to me with lust. I saw the way your greedy pussy swallowed one, then two, even three of your own fingers. But it was never enough, was it? You needed something else, needed these fingers to fill you.” He added a third finger and you had never felt so full. A cry of his name left your lips again and that rich chuckle of his vibrated through you. “Well how is it? Now that you have the real thing, is it satisfactory? Are you still feeling greedy?”
“It’s good,” you slurred in a drawn-out moan. His fingers began to push at your walls in opposing directions and you thought you might drool. “So so good.”
“Only good? Well, I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”
All three fingers curled at once and began to press on a specific part of your walls. Your breathing stopped, your body convulsed, your toes curled, and your vagina clenched like your life depended on it. His palm pressed hard against your abused bundle of nerves, and you came yet again. But this one was different, more intense, almost painful as it washed over every part of your being. You felt dizzy before you remembered to breathe. His hand kept moving but you were at your wits end. “Too much, ah,” you wanted to grab a hold of his arm but barely registered you would get burned again if you did. Your sex throbbed painfully. “Please lord Madara,” you pleaded. “It’s too much.”
The sun god removed his fingers slowly but made sure to keep supporting you. You watched as the vague light of his being seemed to lick a trail from his own palm down his arm and he moaned deeply as he followed the trail back up to his palm. He moved his hand away from his own mouth and brought his fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.
Your tongue poked out of your mouth shyly and you wrapped it around the three fingers hesitantly. A grunt left your throat as you tasted yourself on his digits. He shoved the three of them into your mouth, not willing to give you the chance to continue to do as you pleased. Obediently, you sucked. The heat from his fingers almost felt like they would burn your mouth too. Again, you wondered what he looked like in full detail. You gently scraped your teeth against the three digits. “Good pet,” he muttered and pressed the pads of his fingers down on your tongue. “Now, lay down on that table. I’m going to take my sacrifice.”
Madara removed his fingers and let go of you entirely. You stumbled, almost fell to your knees again as your support disappeared. Thanks to the light of his being you were able to see the shadows that made up the cold marble of said sacrificial table. As much as you tried to make your crawl a top it look sexy, you fumbled a few times. It was rather high, making it difficult to crawl onto, but your inability to be graceful didn’t seem to deter him as he was atop you the moment you fully laid down.
The sun god’s scorching lips graced yours once more and this time you tried to meet his tongue stroke for stroke. His impossibly warm palms enveloped your breasts and began to mold them to his liking, almost as if he was trying to change their shape to his hands. For the first time you felt his entire body as it pressed against you. His muscles were firm as they met your squishy flesh and the hardness of his arousal rubbed against your belly in interest. It leaked with precum and the thought of that being your doing gave you butterflies. Slowly he pulled away, he seemed to sit up for a second as you heard the sounds of a glass bottle opening. His own breathing sounded labored, but it paused as he began to gulp down whatever he had opened.
When he was seemingly satisfied, he pressed his lips to yours again, and much like the first kiss, forced the liquid down your throat. Some of it dribbled down the side of your mouth, being too much to swallow all at once, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he continued to aggressively explore your mouth. What surprised you was when he began to pour out the chilled liquid onto your overheated sex. Your back arched, the contrast in temperatures a shock to your system.
He threw the glass bottle away and it broke against the flooring with a loud crash. His thick fingers began to coat themselves in the fluid and started to scoop it into you. You groaned into his mouth. Madara kept pushing it in, forcing it as deep inside of you as his fingers would allow. It felt odd, his hands and your body heat slowly warmed the liquid as he pushed it inside. The god pulled away from the kiss with a loud breath. “No more games,” he announced and pulled his fingers away.
The sound of his slick fingers against his own flesh made you shiver. You wished you could see it, him fisting himself atop you. What a gorgeous sight that would be, it was almost worth the risk of going blind. Almost. He lined himself up with your entrance, one hand holding your tied wrists above your head and the other holding him in place. His tip felt large as it twitched impatiently against your hole. Anticipation made you hold your breath.
“I’m going to ruin you.”
He thrust in and your jaw dropped. Big, he was so big. You felt overstuffed, like there were six of his large fingers shoved inside. Madara pushed forward more, your walls spasming around the intrusion. He was too big; it was too much. You felt like you were going to break, like he’d split you in half. More of his shaft entered you and he groaned, his guiding hand now reaching up to grip your hip and push you further onto him. It felt like he had knocked the wind out of you as the tip of his penis hit your cervix. Surely that was it, he couldn’t go any further. “Pretty little thing, so fucked out already and I’ve barely even started,” he chuckled, his words strained. He brought the hand that was holding your wrists down to wipe your chin of drool that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You’re so wet,” he grunted and pulled his hips back before snapping them forward quickly. You grunted, the drag of his dick the best thing you had ever felt. “Behave and I might just reward you.”
He began to thrust in earnest, the mushroom head hitting against your cervix with each thrust in, like it was trying to bury itself deeper inside of you. Your back bowed and he forced your hips to meet his. You brought your hands up and began to grip at the edge of the marble table. Your white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping you grounded. He brought his unoccupied hand down to your left breast and began to thumb the nipple in time with his thrusts. The shlick shlick shlick sound of each drag against your insides made your toes curl once again. You felt the heavy weight of his balls hit against your perineum and the slick that was pushed out with every thrust leaked down onto the stone beneath.
The sun god was more vocal than you had expected, grunting with effort, and groaning when you clenched particularly hard around him. You licked your lips, your mouth felt dry from hanging open for so long. Your guts began to twist in knots again and you knew you would cum soon. In a rush of bravery, you brought your legs up and attempted to wrap them around his waist. Immediately, your flesh began to burn, and you set them back down. “What did I tell you?” He sounded strained and he moved his second hand to your other hip. “Behave.”
“I can’t-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, his shaft scraping just right against your g-spot and causing your climax to begin again. He hissed and you felt his hair tickle your stomach as he leaned forward and his grip on your hips tightened. You hoped he’d leave bruises.
“Fuck,” he sounded depraved, and you bit your bottom lip hard. His hips continued to push into you. “Your walls are trying so hard to milk me, is that what you want? Hm? You want me to breed you?”
“Uhn,” you couldn’t help but nod vigorously. Your mind so warped with pleasure that you’d do anything he asked. “Oh, Madara,” you groaned and bucked your hips against his grip.
“You want to carry my bastard,” his voice thick with arousal. His large hands pulled you further down on the table and he put both of your legs up around his shoulders. “Everyone will know it’s mine. They’ll all see your rounded belly and know that it’s the seed of their god growing inside of you.”
The new angle was intense, he bore heavily down onto your cervix with every thrust. He pushed your legs forward, putting them up by your shoulders, almost folding you in half, and pushed into your womb. You screamed. It was too much, an intense mix of pain and pleasure that had your nerves confused. “Feel me reach the deepest parts of you,” he grunted. Madara grabbed your tied wrists and brought your hand down to your folded stomach. He made your hands press against your lower belly where you felt the outline of him inside of you. The extra pressure added more feeling and you whined. “I’m going to fill that pretty little womb of yours.”
His thrusts quickened, becoming bruising and focused. You kept your hand where he placed it and felt his bulge as it moved in and out of you. Your head moved back and through your lust filled haze you noticed that the edges of the blindfold had loosened. If you moved a bit more maybe it would come off? Madara moved one of his hands inward and began to stroke at your clit quickly. His pace becoming uneven as his breathing sped up. “You were fucking made for this,” he groaned out. “Made to take me, to be folded in half and fucked stupid.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried out and moved your head to the side. The silk slipped off of your eyes and you kept them closed as you tried to ignore the need to look at him. He felt so good, so brutal. Your clit throbbed and your core clenched for the fourth time. This was it, the most intense orgasm you’d have possibly ever. You wanted to look at him, to gaze upon his glorious face as you came undone. “Madara, please,” you began, your voice keening at the end. “Look at me.”
You opened your eyes just in time to see him look into yours. He was gorgeous, his dark hair wild and strung about him in a halo of black, his naked flesh flushed pink with exertion, his eyes so dark they looked like they would swallow you whole. His muscles rippled as he fucked you open, the lines under his eyes crinkling as his lips tightened in a smirk. Madara whispered your name and gave one more strong thrust before you squeezed your eyes tight in ecstasy. “Such a bad girl,” he taunted.
This orgasm was unlike any other before, your entire being felt tingly and a different kind of pressure built in your sex. When that pressure released a large burst of clear liquid gushed from you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your legs shook, your walls trembled, and you barely heard Madara’s own grunt of release as he poured his molten semen into your womb. Your everything trembled and you felt like you might melt into the table below you. Your vision went from white to black and you felt your consciousness begin to fade.
“You may rest for now,” his voice sounded so distant in your mind. “We’ll resume shortly.”
When you woke next, you felt so disoriented. Your eyes were open, but everything was hazy, you felt like you were sitting on something hard but comfortable and you lifted your head to try and see where you were. “It took you long enough, pet,” came Madara’s silky voice from behind you. His chest pressed to your back and his arms pressed you further against him. “We still have three more nights of fun to get to.”
A/N: Again, this amazing art contribution was made by the one and only @skydaddy01 please go check them out and send them a huge thank you from me! Madara looks incredible, doesn't he? Uhg I can't stop looking at this art.
Part Two
Hashirama||Tobirama
Season 2
I wanna pet Alucard like this so badly. Bonus if he makes that face and purrs 😍🤯💓
GIF from tenor
I know we all compare Alucard to a cat (rightfully so, the resemblance is uncanny) but have yall ever had a dachshund? Those adorable little shits are so clingy to the point where they want to crawl into your skin (and even that probably wouldn’t combat their clinginess)
I've never owned a dachshund
However
That sounds exactly like Alucard so
Hellsing au where everything is the same except Baskerville is a dachshund
30sF- Headcanons, scenarios, stories. East Asian, Canada
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