Being A Girl Is: Wanting To Go To Bed Early But Deciding To Just Get On Tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 For A Little

Madara's Off Label Rinnegan Use HC

He is so beautiful.

Since the Sharingan was discussed, I should probably cover Madara's Rinnegan as well considering he spent a lifetime waiting to obtain them. Madara first appeared with the Rinnegan as an Edo Tensei (before we were shown flashbacks of him as a senior). Edo Madara was literally a walking corpse (but still hot). Why are you romantically/sexually interested in him 😈? But then he came back to life, so fine, let's think about this.

Madara in the 4th Ninja War wasn't looking for love. If you tried to honey trap this version of him, he'd impale you with his rod, take a selfie, and leave you for dead. So for the sake of this post, we'll say this is a living Madara in his younger adult days before VotE, when he might have been more receptive to love. And he's not fixated on the Moon's Eye Plan but has the Rinnegan. Madara using his Rinnegan on his S/O should probably be considered excessive use of force, but Madara is nothing if not a drama king. What the king would do to/for you with his divine eyes is quite straight forward:

Limbo- he can summon up to 4 intangible clones in another dimension who can do things that you can feel, although you can't initiate interaction with them in return. Think about what that means.

Madara has greater mastery over his chakra rods than the others who borrowed his eyes. He can penetrate your special places with chakra rods without them being insanely hot to touch. With your chakra suppressed and you now significantly weaker, he can almost certainly control your movement with this method if you're being willful.

Deva path- pull you to him (lightly? Can Bansho Ten'in be gentle?) if he wanted you close or you were trying to run from him

Animal Path- summon giant animals for you to ride. They'd crush the surrounding scenery, but if you asked, he'd probably summon them for you

Naraka Path- restore you to good health, although I doubt you'd ever be injured and need healing with Madara watching over you

Outer Path- if he loves you, you are always a higher priority than himself. There is no meaning to life without you. He'll readily sacrifice his life to bring yours back with Rinne Rebirth

What he wouldn't do to you as his S/O:

Extract your soul

Squish you (and potentially himself) via a huge rock

Put you through a wall with Shinra Tensei. Ouch

Use his Asura path body weapons

Use his chakra chains. They cause significant pain to the victim

I think the Sharingan is more fun in daily life, while the use of Rinnegan is just overkill. He has numerous other ways of catching/restraining/etc without needing to use these eyes.

Madara to the bijuu. Different context, same idea

A Night for Hunting Ch.6- The Living Dead

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, horror, gore, eventual romance Words: 1830 On AO3

The frenzied fluttering of wings was audible in the distance. You strained your neck to look, thinking perhaps a few crimson-eyed bats would be visible above the treeline, but it was much too dark for anything to be seen in the glittering navy expanse of sky. 

It had been over two weeks since that doomed night when you confronted Alucard about his behaviour and there hadn’t been any interaction since. You told him then in no uncertain terms to leave you be. It was quite unlike that vampire to do as he was instructed, but you relished the newfound freedom and privacy. 

There was the slightest shuffle from behind. Instinctively, you turned to look, vowing never to let yourself be as helpless again as that time you tried to get home intoxicated. 

At the end of the street stood another person, probably another late-night commuter. Nothing overly unusual. Barely sparing the other person another glance, you kept walking. Your thoughts were introspective.

You felt badly about your harsh parting words to the creature, but shrugged off the guilt. It wasn't like they were entirely undeserved. Alucard did much to torment you. If he was human, you would have gone to the police long ago for a restraining order. The breathing space was a welcomed reprieve from the perpetual badgering over the last year. No, you were not at fault for what happened that night.

You frowned and turned around, your senses switching into high alert. What was with the lady’s gait? She was still there, as expected from hearing her steps behind you. They were loud and unruly, every step was exaggerated with effort like she was about to keel over. 

Haaaaa. Haaaaaaa. With every lurch she exhaled forcefully, the guttural crackling breaths grated against your ears. There was no subtlety to her motions at all. Was she drooling? A glob of spittle broke off from her mouth and dribbled to the ground. A visceral feeling of disgust rolled over you. 

Upon closer inspection, this person was off. She was unkempt and emaciated, her tottering steps as if she was moving to the beat of a metronome. Her skin was a sickly shade of grey. You knew she was staring at you, although you couldn’t make out all her features from this distance. The hairs on your arms stood on end and a shiver shot down your back. Taking a quick glance around, you noted you were, of course, alone with this woman. You didn’t like this. 

How strange it was to see someone like this in this nice neighbourhood. At first you assumed she was a drunkard, but she was more likely a homeless woman who was using drugs. Her circumstances were undoubtedly unfortunate, but not your business, and the way she stared at you was disconcerting. The breeze carried over the reek of fetid gangrene. Swallowing, you felt suddenly nauseous and your mouth ran dry, another tingle crawling over your skin and you spun around to keep a brisk pace.

You jaywalked past the traffic lights and entered the park, speeding even faster through the darkness. You nearly forgot how spooky this park was at night, just rows of rustling greenery on both sides, street lamps whose functionality were inconsistent at best, and the desolate lack of anyone else. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the creeping shadows turned the ordinary into shapes of horror.  

A mere minute later, you glanced over your shoulder to check on the situation. Good, you lost her. You shivered. Just now, it felt almost reminiscent of your old days of being stalked by a blood-sucking demon. If only it was just Alucard.

You hastily cleared this park where Alucard last chased you through months ago, which was the quickest shortcut to bring you back to your building despite the eeriness and lack of light. At last, you were back on solid pavement when you heard the panting coming from the alleyway just ahead. You stopped, but there was only one other alternate path at this point, which would be a long detour back. 

Something was strange about this night. A dense, uncanny energy in the air seemed to coalesce around this area. The air was heavier, and your heart thumped rapidly as you fought to keep your breathing discrete. It could just be drunks screwing…You debated whether to walk past the alley or to take the long way around, but you really didn’t want to be outside anymore. You stopped again in a panic when your footsteps made a loud crunch on the rocky ground and cursed yourself. Somehow you knew you should stay quiet.

You must be the dumbest person in the world, but you took a step forward, and then another. With each step, it felt like you came closer to your destiny. That powerful eldritch energy wrapped around you and you peered inside the murkiness of the alley. You stopped breathing. Nothing else existed at that moment.

Crunch.

A massive figure hovered over another much more diminutive one, pinning them to the ground with spiky shadowed extremities ringed in a crimson outline, a long jacket flaring around them both. It was pitch black, but you saw that the person on the bottom had their limbs splayed about at impossible angles and the gleam of broken bones coming through torn flesh. 

It was only for fleeting moments, but they lasted forever. You stopped at that alleyway and kept looking on in morbid fascination, trying to make sense of the sight. The victim was gargling, no, drowning in their own blood, an inky puddle pooling under them. Your lips fell open in horror when the beast lapped at that puddle.

Crunch.  Bone snapped.

Lustrous vermilion irises turned a feral gaze up at you. They were all you registered in the gloom once they became visible. Red eyes. Inhuman. You forgot to keep breathing. Staring back into the nightmarish gaze with terror-stricken eyes, you distantly heard the rhythmic slapping of footsteps to the beat of a metronome.  Your sense of self-preservation kicked in at last.

RUN! 

Your feet hit the ground in rapid succession to flee the scene, setting a pace faster than you’ve ever run before. You bolted with your heart in your throat, only to realize you missed the last turn to your apartment. Stumbling to a halt, you almost tripped over your feet and fell over, catching your stride at the last second to turn back. There was no paranormal being behind you, so you kept sprinting once you found your bearings and adjusted your route home.

BANG! BANG! BANG BANG BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!

Looking up in panic, you wondered briefly what it could be now. There shouldn’t be fireworks tonight. The long weekend was last week! You didn’t want to believe that the commotion was gunshots. --------------------

Heaving from the lack of breath, you slammed the door shut and put on the lock and steel chain with trembling hands that missed the target several times, wishing there was more you could do to secure your home. Your lungs burnt as your legs finally gave out and you shuffled inside on your bottom. 

What was that? 

Still quaking to your very core, you turned on all the lights by the entrance and sat back down, hugging your knees closely as your eyes darted around the kitchen and living room for anything out of place. For any monsters that could be in hiding.

Idiot, idiot. You were such an idiot! What were you doing earlier, just standing there staring like a dumbass?! 

Several long minutes passed before you felt like you could move again, though no part of you was at ease. Crawling to your bedroom, you stayed close to the floor in an attempt to be as small as possible. You didn’t even want to shower or change right now, only wishing for the safety of your bedroom. You slithered into bed and pulled the sheets over your head, the mind already automatically replaying the ordeal of the last half hour. 

You recalled those glistening scarlet eyes fixated on you and the crunch of shattering bone.

Sleep eluded you. You were too spooked to have your back facing anything but down on the mattress. Your eyes jumped around blindly in the dark, yet your paranoia gave the imagination wings and it took off. Things of legend became reality and the products of your fear came alive. The darkness on the edges of your vision took on fanciful shapes, disappearing only at the moment you stared at them directly.

Something creaked in the house and you jolted. Logically, you knew sometimes homes made noises, but your mind was overrun with possibilities. You remembered the gurgling sounds of a person drowning and only now, did you notice your clammy hands. You were hot with anxiety, yet cold sweat soaked through the sheets. Bravely, you inched over slightly to lay on the next dry spot on the mattress.

Even when your eyes adjusted to the darkness, it felt like there were monsters lurking in every darker patch of the room, but you were too apprehensive to get out of bed and banish the shadows with light. You swallowed some sleeping pills and clenched your eyes, trying every method you knew of to lull yourself into sleep: counting numbers, mental relaxation, distracting yourself with happier thoughts.

It was all for naught. You flipped onto your side now that the next patch of bed was damp with sweat, still completely at the mercy of your fear. The clock read 0400. Dawn couldn’t come soon enough.

A cacophony of shrieks sounded outside, followed by the flapping of approaching wings. Adrenaline again pumped through your veins and your heart palpitated from the hormonal rush. Nothing happened. Daring to move once more, you felt silly and slunk over onto the next cooler spot. Your lids were heavy over burning eyes, but rest remained elusive.

Exhausted, your eyes fluttered open in abject frustration and immediately found two glowing spots high on the wall, several paces away from where you lay. You focused on them in confusion since nothing should cast a light like that in your room. The orbs were the colour of a dazzling sunset. They smoldered vibrantly, the shifting colours stunningly beautiful.

The tension eased out of your body and your eyelids drooped. You distantly heard the sound of soft purring filling the room as you found sleep at last. The comforting purrs rumbled through your consciousness, sending vibrations tumbling through your chest that soothed your soul. All your recent worries felt like simple folly. The fear that held you captive like a hungry beast relinquished its hold and suddenly, you were unable to remember why you were so frightened to begin with.

Cradled within the nest of your home, you floated through the skies. You slept soundly until the next afternoon in a sweet, dreamless slumber, lost in a feeling of safety that you have previously never known.

~To be Continued~

Next Chapter- Fear

Sketch drawn by Hirano involving a certain song to celebrate the ending of the manga. From the 2012 official guidebook.

hypothetical dad! madara w/ a little daughter is so funny to me cause i can so see him watching a little konoha kid giving his daughter like a flower they plucked and immediately falling to his knees: crying sobbing throwing up the whole performance. takes him 2 weeks to recover, god forbid it’s like hashirama’s kid or a senju in general

Madara with a little girl would certainly be precious, but hmm... no I don't see him falling to his knees and making a spectacle of himself because a boy gave her a flower.

From what we see of him, Madara is an emotional man, but he tends to bottle up his strongest feelings until they boil over. He is prone to emotional outbursts, but whenever he is that open, they tend to be negative displays of emotion. Anger, hatred, vengeance, disdain, and whatnot. It was rare for him to burst out in laughter, and it was only with Hashirama from what we were shown. I'm guessing he did outwardly show if he was happy with his family too, before he lost everyone.

He came from a time where crying/sobbing wasn't really an appropriate response to any hardship a shinobi was facing, no matter what he was feeling. It was weak, and weakness was punished with death in his era. That's why I don't think he'd ever rail to the heavens in joy from a boy courting his daughter, nevermind whether he approved of the suitor to begin with (keep in mind he's probably extremely protective of her and in his mind, no one is good enough)... it'd just be so out of character for him.

Instead, assuming Madara was okay with whoever gifted his daughter with flowers (and is perhaps romantically interested in her while she returns the sentiment), I think he would just be internally elated at the prospects of her finding her own happiness. It would be a quiet, simmering contentment and pride he feels and the faintest hint of a smile is all he'd show the world before he walks away to let the budding couple be.

A Night for Hunting Ch.11 -Interlude I

T/W: NSFW, 18+, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, slice of life, menstrual blood with related explicit sexual content, hungry vampire Words: 4124 On AO3

I actually do think Alucard would be interested in his Reader’s grooming routine. He’s lived a long time and modern cosmetics are very different from what he’s seen. Everything about her is interesting, even the mundane acts of daily living, because those are all things his corpse doesn’t need. Enjoy the light-hearted fluff for now…this is their bonding time. You aren’t imagining it. Her speech with him is sometimes more informal as she gets more comfortable around this harbinger of death.

I waited SO long to write some more funny business with Alucard. I hope you enjoy it. This chapter can be skipped if vampire-style period smut doesn’t interest you and I think you shouldn’t miss much plot-wise. 

Another flavour of body lotion was in the air. Or rather, “body butter,” as you called it, insisting a viscous moisturizer was more suitable for the dry spring air while the heat remained active. It smelled like lavender, unlike the last one which was definitively of cucumbers. Alucard decided this product was likewise agreeable with his senses. His only regret was that he arrived too late tonight to watch you apply it.

Alucard scented the air again. Ah, that was an even more enticing aroma. He inhaled deeply and rumbled softly in pleasure at your monthly, which hung heavily in the air, tantalizing and delicious.

It was fascinating how the human body required nourishment in every way, even the skin. He sat soundlessly in the loveseat and watched you go about your routine. You twisted a glossy bottle open. He smirked. The vampire remained invisible in the mirror, and you were all the more unaware and unsuspecting of his presence while you preened. He memorized the outline of your fingers and their circular motions as you smeared a creamy white gel across your face while carefully avoiding your eyes. 

He purred at your actions.

His human was startled. You whipped around with a short yelp and dropped the container, lurching backward in the process and banging into the nightstand. It never reached the floor. The vampire king scooped up the tiny jug midair and offered it back to you.

“I am equally pleased to see you, little one.” Alucard grinned.

You took in the imposing dark giant towering over you, his eyes vibrant and alive, and let out a laugh. 

“Alucard! You scared me! Don’t just show up behind me like that!” Your palm fell over your chest as you caught your breath. His gaze lingered on your hand and you plucked the ridiculous little bottle from his fingers. 

Even without your affirmation, the vampire felt your shock, the moment when fear of the unexpected intruder spiked and your hair stood on end, when adrenaline filled your veins and made your blood run cold. And when that pungent taste of fear was quickly replaced with excitement by his presence, which prompted a stirring in his loins.

“The candid can be riveting.” He tracked you as you turned your back to him and bustled around. How naively trusting, but it was part of your allure.

“Give me some time! You arrived so late, I thought you weren’t coming by tonight. Just started a face mask.”

Your guest stared at you with interest.

“This weather! It’s for hydration and to prevent fine lines.”

The vampire chuckled lightly, “Humans, your kind do everything to delay aging and to avoid your mortality.”

“I don’t want to hear that from a 500-year old immortal who gets to look the way you do.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “You know, one day I’ll be an old woman. Whatcha gonna do with me then?” You raised a brow.

"You meant to say you will grow even more beautiful day after day?" 

Your eyes bulged at his pretty words, but you didn't find insincerity. You flapped your lips to pull words from the ether. “Your silver-tongued flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you warned.

“I prefer there to be no silver in my tongue.”

You cackled, “No silver tongue piercings for you then, not even sterling?” You winked at him, a smile brightening your features more than any mask ever could.

The corner of the vampire’s lips lifted. “Absolutely not, unless you insist.” 

—--------------------

You came back to awareness with a jolt.

“I’m sorry, it’s hard to stay awake. I was going to go to bed soon when you arrived.” You yawned. Your face was radiant after rinsing off the mask and applying your moisturizer earlier. And then you fell asleep mid-conversation with your undead guest. Just slumped over in bed and lost consciousness. What a poor hostess you made.

Alucard lost the iconic hat, glasses, and coat while you were asleep. He gestured amiably with his palm up towards the bed you were sprawled across, as if to invite you to continue.

“…You’re just going to watch me?”

“This activity is rapidly becoming a favourite pastime.”

“That’s really creepy and you have shallow priorities.”

“A matter of perspective.” 

“Surely you must have better things to do?” It was difficult to see in the gloom, but you were reasonably sure he was smirking.

You sighed, “Suit yourself.” With your resignation, you crawled up your bed and tucked yourself into the sheets, shimmying out of your night clothes before shooting one last glance at the glowing crimson orbs and closing your eyes. “Goodnight Alucard,” you whispered.

Rest well, little one.

You smiled and turned around to face the other wall.

—--------------------

Falling asleep a second time proved impossible. Without the constant movement earlier in the night, the cramps finally caught up to you. A searing pain seized your lower abdomen and sent fire up your spine.

You screamed internally in agony and hunched over yourself. AHH, how you wanted to rip out your uterus yourself if it would spare you this suffering. You considered your options: you had no Tylenol. Ibuprofen? No, not on a now-empty stomach, as if the medication options ever provided lasting relief anyways. A heat pack?

It ripped through your core again and you tossed around to the other side of the bed, legs spasming out and toes curling. With a grimace, you took deep, ragged breaths and groaned.

The bed dipped and you jumped, which only worsened the pain. Your eyes watered. There must be a knife in your flesh. There could be no other explanation for the ache. 

A pleasant fog clouded your mind and the pressure suddenly alleviated. Opening bleary eyes, that massive shadow was still there, unmoving and deeper than black, staring at you with those red, red irises. You tried to focus on them.

All Alucard did was pluck at your consciousness to redirect your attention from your affliction to himself. With anyone else, he would certainly bask in their torment while laughing at their expense. With you though, he did not enjoy watching you writhe in anguish, especially from discomfort that was so easily banished.

“Would you like your suffering eased?”

You let out a feeble whine. “You can help me?” You didn’t even ask him how he would do so. “Please.”

The covers were thrown off and you welcomed the rush of cool air that washed over your clammy skin momentarily. You peeked. In the murky darkness, you recognized Alucard picking off his gloves by the fingers. He ripped off your panties. The menstrual product went flying somewhere too.

“ALUC–!” He was on top of you, hovering so close you could feel his breath. Did you accidentally agree to sleep with him? That wasn’t what you intended! “Oh, oh. It hurts!” You clenched your eyes again and shuddered, pushing the heel of your palm hard into your pelvis in a pitiful attempt to soothe your woes.

A cool hand slipped under yours. Not an ice pack, but any stimulation that distracted from the cramps was welcome relief. “This is all for you, Sweet.” He stroked your face. “Enjoy it.”

He was going to feed from you. Oh my God. He wanted to drink your–

Alucard smiled. “God is not here,” he muttered, crimson flashing dangerously as he approached.

Smooth lips replaced the hand as his nose flared. The No-Life King luxuriated in your scent and his triumph. He was in bed with you and iron filled his every sense. He saw you clear as day –so beautiful you were, naked with your raw and bloody pussy presented to him to feast on, the pinnacle of fine dining. He was almost reverent as he kissed his way lower and lower, inch by excruciating inch, until he was at eye level with his prize.

He was staring too intently. Sure, your pubic hair was beginning to grow out a bit, but you were never expecting intimate company! You were blind but all too aware of your nudity. Growing self-conscious when nothing happened, you lifted your arms to hide yourself, only to be instantly pinned to the mattress.

“Discard your notions of propriety, human. You are in bed with the devil tonight.”

The command shot to your loins, which coiled with heat. The toothy smirk gleamed and you held your breath in apprehension over what was to come, yet you were desperate for relief. Glancing down to try and see him, you were only met with blown pupils set in a dazzling scarlet. Your heart quivered at the devil between your legs, for you were at his mercy. 

Surrounded by your sweet fragrance, Alucard came alive with bloodlust. His senses prickled with awareness over everything that surrounded the two of you. He could hear your neighbours’ soft breathing as they slept and when they stirred; he tasted the bitterness of anger in the air from the quarrelling couple nearby. But none of them mattered. He scented your skin and fought the urge to sink fangs into your veins, at the junction where your thigh met your groin. He growled. Under your silly moisturizers was the refreshing smell of your natural scent. He leaned in for a taste. Then another pang of pain coursed through you and he felt you tensing from dread. 

Time to make good on his promise.

He licked your opening from perineum to vestibule, stopping to twirl around your clit with teasing feathery touches. 

“Ah!” You gasped, your head snapping downwards and thudding on the pillows.

Vision was fruitless, but the darkness stirred and heightened each sensation. A cool hand wrapped around your thigh and sank in for a massage to chase away your tension. The tongue flicked at your bud before soft lips nipped at your hood.

You whined from the prodding at everywhere that was private and sensitive on your body. Twin digits kneaded the two halves of your vulva. Over and over, the damn vampire pressed your meat in and stroked down, only to release at the bottom and tickle your hairs as he brought his fingers back to the top and continued the cycle as he blew frosty air on your nub.

You squirmed at the foreign sensations and tried to press your legs together. More hands arrived to pull you apart. Surrounded by red haze, it provided just enough light to illuminate Alucard’s pale face, half of which was hidden by your crotch. You think he pinched your clit between the sides of his fingers before peeling back your hood to suckle at your most intimate parts. A shaky exhale escaped you.

The room was dim. All you saw was the silhouette of his chalk-white face and the faint vermilion reflection in his hair. You could see his head dip and twist as he played you expertly like an instrument. And you sang for him. His caresses were sweet intoxication that left trails of electricity in their wake. Phantom limbs fondled your breasts and ran down your abdomen and sides, grasping at your buttocks like he was kneading dough. Gradually, he coaxed the tight coils in your womb to unravel.

A twinge of pain shot through as your uterus contracted again, but it was now bearable. Warm fluid flowed generously into the towel wedged under your bottom. “A-Alu, please don’t stop,” you gasped, yanking against your bonds, your fingers curling repeatedly around nothing. 

A cool fingertip pressed directly into your bud and traced lazy circles on the bundle of nerves so that your nails dug into the pad at the base of your palm. You keened to beg for more, for mercy, for what again? You weren’t entirely sure either, but you needed relief and you were certain the devil knew how to deliver.

You were too distracted to be privy to the copper mess between your legs. It caked your thighs and dripped from your kitten, mixing with the scrumptious juices of your arousal to trickle between the crevice of your rear. Alucard sucked the pooled blood soaked into the linens and mattress into himself. Nuzzling into your folds, he sighed and swallowed, savouring the honeyed delicacy on his tongue. He could get used to this. Perhaps he would be calmer if he was allowed to settle betwixt your legs nightly. Luminous feline eyes lifted to meet yours and he grinned, even if you couldn’t see it.

You lay limp and embarrassed, but needy, remaining splayed in a nervous, unspoken plea for more. He was watching you closely. Licking your lips, you wriggled in the hopes that the vampire may finally relent and let you go.

“I want to touch you too,” you murmured. 

Suddenly, you got your wish. Nothing held you down and you weakly propped yourself up, noticing Alucard had dismissed his thick clothing with a distinct fleshy slap and was kneeling close by, a hunter ready to spring. Again you tried to discern his features in the sombre lighting. 

The undulating crimson overcast was wrong. But what an experience it made for, like you were indulging in debauchery with a demon within the pits of the raging Inferno. He was corrupting your finer judgement and everything about what you were doing with this vampire was erroneous, but you and him were well past the point of right or wrong. 

Your eyes tentatively trailed down his lithe torso, making out the hint of shadows where the expanse of musculature waxed and waned, and you brushed your hands over his skin for exploration. You placed a kiss to where his unbeating heart was. As you squeezed and petted, you found his naked body lanky, but strong. You touched something steely that was covered in silk.

The vermilion smogging the air in your bedroom made your vision funny. At times, you saw his contrasting features with some clarity. At others, like now, visibility was almost nil. Perhaps the effect was from staring at Alucard’s smouldering shadow limbs for far too long. There was no oxygen in the room as you touched Alucard’s cock for the first time. It was his shaft that slapped his abdomen earlier. 

Alucard stood at attention –a lengthy and thick flagpole for your sole inspection. You traced down from the root to grasp him, both the pillar and the stones, but your fingers and thumb did not meet around his girth. You must have made a funny expression, because Alucard chuckled when you wrapped around him with the other hand and there was clearly still cock leftover. 

Curiously, you began to fondle his turgid member, feeling the way the skin slid with your hands. He was beyond stiff, but the skin was much softer than you ever expected. You rolled the velvet up and down, marvelling at the way it seemed to bunch at the tip in silken folds, wishing more than anything that you could see him properly right now. How majestic he must be.

The skin holding his jewels was loose too. You could jiggle those firm orbs in your fingers. This was fascinating. As you hefted his sack into your palm for closer study, Alucard exhaled, “Warm.”

A prompt reminder that he was dead… which didn’t stop you. Even the vampire’s genitals were cool to touch. “And you’re so cold,” you replied in a hushed tone with a shiver. Indeed, goosebumps covered your body from the prolonged contact and your nipples stayed in peaks. You briefly wondered whether his semen would be chilly as well…

The vampire was immaterial at once, shrouding the entire room in a miasma of darkness that rippled and seethed with a mind of its own. You were knocked onto your back again with your ankles draped over a vampire’s shoulders. Alucard growled, mania in his expression as he hovered over your face. Next to your skull, fabric was shredding under the force of his grip. Did he have claws?

You were prey to his kind. Never did you forget how dangerous your company was. The deep menacing rumble made your hair turn into fine quills, as did the frigid air puffing at your throat. You were supposed to be terrified, but when you made eye contact with the beast trapping you, something broke and your gaze gentled before your eyes fluttered closed. You breathed out, feeling more lucid than ever before. 

You hooked your arms around both knees to lift your legs towards the sky. “Please help me, Alucard.” You offered him your blood.

YOU PRESENT THIS OFFERING OF YOUR OWN FREE WILL, HUMAN? 

The voice in your mind was guttural, the words nearly indecipherable if it weren’t for the overbearing sense of their meaning that remained utterly succinct.

Yes. You observed him through slitted eyes with a peaceful bliss.

Alucard smirked, that lengthy tongue dangling at your crotch as crimson irises glittered with promise. Your breath caught. In a past life, you dreaded the feeling of that muscle on your skin…right now, your mind wandered to how long and agile it was. The places it could go. How would it fill you up? The heat sizzled off your skin as your heart galloped in anticipation.

The smug smile was in the vampire’s eyes as he wagged that appendage at you. He swooped low and kissed your opening as fingers skimmed over your pearl. Your breath hitched. The tongue was pushing into you.

“AHHHH!” Ouch! You squealed from the abrupt penetration and jerked. 

Alucard snarled at the perceived attempt to escape him, his control fraying at the seams. He growled, shaking to reign himself in and release the bruising grip on your hips. Talons sank instead into your pillows and shredded through the mattress as he hissed low into your ears, wondering distantly if he sounded more reassuring for you than his voice did to himself.

“Shh…” He soothed, “I will not allow you to feel more than a sweet ache.” The throaty rumbling continued, lustrous crimson flashing wildly as he scrutinized your parted lips and pulsing carotid. “You gave yourself to me. I will make it worthwhile.” Trust me. The vampire made his leisurely way back south.

But how could it be good when it hurts so badly? Your legs tightened around the shadowy head while tears flooded your vision. A light tapping at your nub, followed by thick laps to the entrance of your vagina. 

Alucard purred at the drizzle that flowed from you. “The finest taste to ever grace my lips.” He speared you with just the tip of his tongue and swirled into your opening to catch every drop while maintaining the pressure at your clit.

“Mm… feels weird,” you grunted.

The sinful lips found your femoral artery and nipped playfully, flicking back to your vulva to lave your inner and outer folds with worshipful licks before pressing kisses into your button again. Wet lips and mucous membranes melded in a series of slurps and smacks as he soon had you cooing helplessly once more.

A finger slipped its way into your depths without your notice. You moaned breathlessly and pitched your hips up at him. His lips got greedy and he let you squirm while you ran your fingers through his glossy hair and tugged. He let you pull his face onto your crotch, your feet kicking in the air before they came to a rest on his back. 

The digit was vibrating from side to side. It twisted and curled up into an unknown spot within that made you see stars. Your eyes slammed open in shock and you keened from the pleasure. Your feet flailed as you realized Alucard was proceeding as originally planned. The tongue replaced the finger and wound into your softened opening by massaging your sweet spot.

Unable to formulate a verbal defence, your jaws dropped and you shrieked from the intrusion, where he had deftly brought you to the point when words ran dry. You stared at him hoping for some semblance of benevolence, only to scream when his animal sounds sent vibrations into your pouch. 

Thick. Alucard’s tongue was girthy and did not fit into your unplundered hole. His entry, however, was steady and unrushed. Finally, he was fully inside you and the pitch of the purring dropped until it had warped back into a low growl. Feeling profoundly overwhelmed, you groaned from the stretch. Goodness, if he moved now, you would probably die.

Your face scrunched with discomfort. You were dripping wet from Alucard’s earlier care, but as he began to pull out, it felt like your innards were leaving with him. “!!” You begged him, the sides of your thighs clutched his head in the vanishing hopes that he’d ease up. The devil was smiling! You just knew it!

“Ahhh…” You cried out with a breathy moan as he pushed slowly back inside after an exaggerated swallow. He did it again, in and out, in and out, and you stared at him with eyes like saucers as he fucked you. 

You opened up for him eventually.

Holy shit. You took back any disparaging thoughts you previously expressed about his sexual prowess. He was amazing at this. Maybe a God was present here.

As you clung to his head desperately and gyrated into him with rabid enthusiasm, your eyes screwed shut, unable to bear staring into those twin rubies that always saw too clearly anymore, eager to simply enjoy the ride.

The sensation of fullness disappeared and your eyes snapped open and shot around in confusion for an explanation, finding Alucard's shining gaze immediately.

Wha- how? When you were so close, how could anyone just stop like he just did? 

Look at me while I drink you.

…

It was too cruel. He really must be an evil monster spawned from the bowels of hell after all, to demand that while he was doing something like this to you.

Cackling laughter boomed in mind and you got the feeling he was waiting, daring you to look away again. With a pitiful whimper, you kept a weary gaze on the devil as you spread your legs to grant him greater access to your core in surrender.

"An excellent decision. I always knew you were reasonable," Alucard purred. He pushed between your folds gently to finish making a meal of you.

Heat blossomed in your loins as he built you up yet again. It wound higher and tighter as your caretaker stayed prodding and lapping at your tortured meat. It would be so easy to let go and lose yourself in his hedonism. You pet his busy face, paying particular attention to tracing the muscles of his jaw with wonder while he showed you the carnal ways of the flesh. 

This creature of damnation was from hell, but he took you to heaven and led you to its doors. His desire was reflected by yours when you finally convulsed, exploding on his face while he took all you offered with noisy, obscene swallows as he mashed into you.

"Better?" He asked.

"Wow," you said dumbly, wishing you were able to tell him something more articulate after the treat you were given. Instead, you stared at him in confused awe. It was truly the highest compliment you could pay to the vampire. Alucard could not be more pleased with himself as he admired the results of his handiwork and licked his face clean of your fluids like a cat with cream.

"Uh…I think I'm okay now," you told him, safe at last to meekly avert your gaze as your knees unlocked. It was true. The crushing cramps had all but disappeared, taken away by Alucard’s ministrations as he’d promised.

What now? 

It was too soon to relax. Anxiety started to ramp as you saw his head lowering and you rushed to hide your leaky hole. Were you now supposed to consummate this, whatever this was between you?

Blood-red irises scintillated with flecks of orange and yellow, as always shimmering with amusement at your predicament.

"Aye, but I have not yet had my fill of you.” His gaze dropped closer, dilated pupils fixating upon your spent nether parts. “I have been famished lately. I could drink you alive."

Dawn was beginning to break and the darkness was no longer as deep. You saw Alucard grinning. It was an unholy, devious smirk. He dove back into your legs with the polite request for you to provide more sustenance, lest he have to remain for the day to sate himself fully. 

"You may have opened Pandora's box. I will never be denied this exquisiteness again."

It turned out that Alucard did not need trinkets such as silver piercings. His tongue alone got him many places with you.

~To Be Continued~

Chapter 12: The Feeling of Safety

-------------------- Notes: Teehee. The Reader doesn’t know it, but what she sees as Alucard being creepy and watching her, from Alucard’s perspective is him watching over her while she sleeps. She is one of his priorities. The idea for this Interlude was at the back of my mind for awhile. As someone who has periods, I felt like this biological function is something that should be addressed since our beau is a vampire. I found this chapter pretty difficult to write. Some parts of the smut came easily enough, but everything else…I was just stuck. I hope you enjoy the results though. RIP bed. I am super excited for the next chapter!

I commented on your work on AO3 but I need to tell you again how much I love A Night for Hunting. It made me sad that there isn’t a lot of long chapter Alucard fics or fics for him in general so I’m eating this fanfic up and savoring it🙏😩 The fic is so well written, I just absolutely adore how you depict LuLu🥹

Sorry for the delay! This comment got lost in my inbox for a bit. Thank you SOOO much! This is the kind of comment I'd love to print out, frame, and stick on my fridge to show off to the whole world!! Your words make ALL the difference. I love longer fics too and wish there was more for Alucard. I hope you'll stick around for what comes next! I've been sick though so the next chapter isn't ready 🥹

Holy shit!!

Sacrificed

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~

Without further ado, enjoy Sacrificed (Sun)

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

★ 【土偶ちゃん】 「 青がすんでるーー 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter

More genderfluid Alucard

From his wiki page:

"In regards to Alucard's many forms, Hirano had stated that he no longer cares about him being a woman or a man; to which, Alucard eventually said a line relating to this in Volume 9 of Hellsing. Continuing, Hirano said that Alucard took so many lives; and therefore, those lives eventually altered Alucard's personal identity. The "Control Art Restriction System" comes into play to help suppress this. His initial personality is male, so he took that as his basic form."

whats your biggest inspiration for style when it comes to your writing?

I really want to have the ability to write a variety of things, regardless of the genre. I don’t want to write solely naughty smut, or only romance, or only dark and angsty, or only headcanons. I haven’t done scenarios yet, but I’d like to as well. I like having different things. Variety is the spice of life.

Some sources of inspiration:

My Mood- When in a romantic mood (from music, my fiancé, or anything really), it’s easier to write a budding romance developing. Other times I’m hot and bothered. With the smutty one-shots I wrote so far, my mind literally could not focus on doing anything else until I wrote those out of the way. When in a more somber mood (could be also from music, life, merely thinking about serious topics, etc), the mind wanders to darker places. A darker fic is brewing in the head already. I just have to finish “Twin Flames” before putting myself in that mindset again to write it.

My normal daily life- Bits and pieces of my life show up in my writing, such as with my interests and small in-story details. I’m not sure if by “style,” you’re also asking about my tone, but my tone in response to certain events in my stories is influenced by my daily life. This is especially true for the fanfic “Twin Flames,” since I’m also an ICU nurse irl like the Reader. If I sound sassy, exasperated, or depleted, it’s coming from a very real place. Other times I just sass in my writing because it feels like a good spot to do so.

Madara- hah clearly I think a lot about him. So an interesting thought pops into mind. If I think I have enough of something meaningful to say about that topic, I’ll write it out. Could be a fic. But if it’s a headcanon, I want to make it lighter and more informal in style since a few of them are kind of silly anyways. It’s nice to try and be funny. If it’s more of an analysis-type headcanon, I think I should try to write properly and organize my points more coherently. Those would be more essay style.

Madara also influences my style because I try to keep him true to his character. Even if most of my writing thus far has him involved with an S/O (doesn’t exist in canon), who he acts differently with compared to the average person he encounters, all my portrayals of Madara were still written according to my “Madara Romance Headcanon,” regardless of the type of post he was featured in. I don’t think the way he behaves in my writing is completely unbelievable.

Not really related to writing style, but sometimes I pull references from the canon sources and incorporate those within a piece of writing. I don’t know why, but I feel like doing so just gives the piece some extra ‘oomph.’ And it makes my nerd brain happy if I think other people might spot the references.

I’m not sure if that was an adequate answer, but I hope you like my style 😊