#i feel that he would inevitably rile himself up into a frenzy over it and look for any sort of out

[lionfangeda]

even in a supposedly healthy relationship, mandus is a ticking timebomb depending on circumstances. no matter how high his trust levels are, he has incredibly deep-seated insecurities and trust issues in a romantic relationship, and it would not take much for them to be triggered. one instance of upset could be seemingly brushed off, but mentally cataloged, saved for an internalized strike system. too many strikes in mandus’ mind would utterly doom the relationship, and one strike alone would leave his partner unwittingly on thin ice, heavily scrutinized by mandus as he waits for them to slip up again.

he has grown with the idea of people being self-serving with ulterior motives, and no matter how much someone reassures him of their love and dedication to him, any instant of coming up short in these promises will have consequences from him.

[yanderenightmare]

Can you write some more about nice guy jock kiri? Please and thank you. Have a good day!

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO - RED RIOT

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, suggestive language, manipulation, coercion

THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

He said she could pick the movie this time.

He said she could pick out any movie at all. Whatever she wanted, they were going to watch. Yet in the time she’d spent making lunch, Kirishima sprawled lazily in her bed, browsing half-mindedly, eyes sliding from viewing the screen to looking at her round grabbable ass dancing as she padded about the small kitchen, begging for him to come pinch as she put the stir-fry in bowls and walked over to plot herself down next to the muscly block of man, he’d already picked a movie, far away from something she’d choose, though when eyeing what puppy-dog look he gave her, she couldn't very well say no.

Kirishima has always been clingy. She wouldn't like to call it suffocating, or controlling, though it does border on the word. But she cannot blame him for being handsy and suggestive when they’re alone, in her apartment, in her bed. He’s always been needy, always touching her, so very big-hearted and forward, easily distracted, easily discarding of tasks in favor of doing what new activity calls for his attention, like a dog.

She was becoming quite used to his confident nature, how hap-hazardously he would go about touching her, kissing and licking at her the way he so often went about doing, so much so it was strange to think that they hadn't ever actually slept together.

They had been dating for a couple weeks, and Kirishima was clear about his intentions and aspirations and wants and needs from the start, being a very open honest person, but she couldn't help but feel as though he was pushing her, nudging her, guilt-tripping her with candid words of how horny he was because of her, how frustrated he was, how frigid, how it was effecting his schoolwork, how good a boyfriend he was for waiting, for being patient and tolerant, how she couldn't blame him for wanting something in return, even though that something was a thing she wasn't ready to give him.

It would be wrong if she said he didn't respect her wishes, because he had, albeit begrudgingly. Each time she invited him over, or... he invited himself over,  when he became rowdy, it would always take a good amount of bargaining and persuasion on her side, which was always met with even more coaxing and encouragement from him. How he would message his hand into the inside of her thigh, and she would push ever so gently to keep him at bay until he finally laid off, the mood stiff and awkward as he left her apartment to walk to his own place, alone, with a rejected boner he would have to take care of alone, then go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. He had still respected her wish in the end, or... maybe not respected, but at least accepted it.

She hadn't picked out the movie, and it being something she hadn't really invested very much thought into, she didn't try and stop him from nuzzling into her neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh found there. She allowed him to lift her shirt up to rub circles into her stomach with his warm roughened hand, let him grab and grope and mold her breast through the fabric of her bra, let him swing his leg over her body, to lock her position beneath him and his brawny heavy frame as he cuddled into her.

She could already feel the stiff bulge bump into her thigh, tried to forgive him for always riling himself up when he knows what her answer’s going to be, knows how she isn't ready to give him what he wants. Hearing his breathing picking up, becoming rugged and raspy, hot against her neck as he tried humping into her, having rolled and positioned and handled both their bodies so he could lie between her thighs, face mushed into the soft skin of her neck, nipping at her collarbones , spiky hair poking into the underside of her chin, hands abrasive when squeezing at the flesh of her ass and thighs, gripping them to lock around his torso, venturing to grab at her waist and breasts, becoming more and more frenzied, more and more rugged, forgetting his strength, forgetting her protests, getting more and more carried away.

She jolted once she felt his fingers hook into the band of her panties, having slipped up her skirt and spidered playfully up her thigh. She grabbed his arms loosely, small hands obviously not able to wrap around the thickness of his muscles, though applying what strength she deemed necessary to make him take her seriously, lightly digging her fingernails into his skin. “Uhm, Kiri-” She squeaked unsurely, breaching the shapeless noisy silence of heavy breathing and rugged groans and building growls that had filled the room, movie still quietly playing in the background, white noise completely ignored by the burning of her ears.

“Come on, let me feel.” He purred into her ear, giving her lobe a nibble. 

“Uhm, I don't think-” She shoved at him, balls of her feet digging into the mattress, trying to sit up.

He laid his weight down on her, immobilizing her movement, keeping her under him. “Come on...” He drawled, voice rumbling. “Please?” Mumbling into her skin, knowing how it always makes her giggle from the tickle by the light scruff on his chin, knowing it makes her sweet and pliable. “Pretty please? It’ll feel good, I promise.” 

He didn't really wait for any response, his face mushed into her neck, seeming cute as he pleaded but also acting as a great trap, his hand succeeded in pushing her panties aside, warm worn fingers, foreignly larger cuddled with the sensitivity kept there. His breath shuddered, lips spreading into a toothy grin against her neck, so wide she could feel it. 

“Aww.” He moaned. “That’s so warm and wet.” She cringed, but hadn't the time to tell him to stop, hadn't the time to decide that she valued her limits more than maintaining the good vibe, and then she hadn't the mind to really think about it at all, too preoccupied with wrapping her thoughts around the fact that Eijiro had just pushed one thick knuckled finger inside her, roughly at that, pumped it in, stuffed her with it, with an equally chaffed thumb-pad laying heavy pressure down into her little beading clit.

It would probably have felt awful, the brutish boyish clumsy inconsiderate rubbing, but having him dry-hump into her for the better half of the entire movie made for a little messy spill between her thighs, perfectly ready to make whatever rough movement he gave seem like God’s touch, enough to have her moan at once.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, cocky undertone almost completely smoked out by livid lust, his arousal so very clear in his voice as he removed his weight when feeling her body melt and comply to what his hand was giving her of bliss. His large muscly frame rising to kneel between her legs, having her thighs hiked up and spread atop of his, forehead resting against hers. She bobbed her head in a series of quick sporadic nods, teeth biting harshly into her lip as she watched with a bowed head his finger disappear in and out the vulnerable sensitivity found between her spread thighs, the smell of beer on his heavy hot breaths fan over her face before he kissed her head. “You wanna cum?” She gave a moan, indicating an unspoken yes as he rubbed his thumb over and over her tender pearl, pushing another one of his long fingers inside her, making her gasp out a moan, mewing as he curled and scissored the two digits inside her, making her inevitable unraveling arrive much quicker.

He wiped his sticky hand on his pant leg with a small smug smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, watching as her head fell back to rest against the pillow again, beginning to unbutton his jeans. 

The sound of him sliding down his zipper pulled her focus back, eyelids fluttering open just in time to watch him pull his throbbing hard erection out with a sigh. And though the red-head had gone about the reveal in an unceremonious manner, whether it was out of lack of showmanship or Kirishima deeming it unnecessary, it didn't really matter to the virgin beneath him. She took one look and she wasn’t able to look away. A surprising black bush drew her focus at first, what more the two easter-eggs that seemed to be nestling there, but not before long her eyes felt the need to follow what bulging pumping purple vein ran up the underside of the thickness, almost like a spine, or a pin that reached up to a red-blushed head, glossed like a candy-apple, with a slit running though it and a spill of pre-cum dripping down to disappear in the dark forest below.

She could swear it sized up to her whole arm’s-length.

Her eyebrows knitted as she continued eyeing the hard pole, watching it bob with strength, straining against his stomach, standing proudly on it’s own as he lifted his shirt off his arms and shoulders, throwing it to the floor, revealing what mouthwatering washboard rock-hard abs he kept beneath. 

His hand once again reached out, this time to grab her wrist, guiding her shaking hand back to his thick member, watching her hesitate to wrap her delicate little fingers around his length once he squeezed her wrist too hard in impatience, seeing her bite her lip at the feel of the almost rubbery-smooth texture of his length in her palm, warm to the touch. His larger hand wrapped around her smaller one, guiding the movement as he started pumping up and down.

He groaned, head hung and resting atop her shoulder where he knelt with her sitting form in his lap, red eyes with wide pupils locked on watching her small hand loosely holding onto him, his cock looking so unbelievably huge in her tiny grasp, like some beast, where the more he thought about it and the more he looked, it was big compared to all of her, he could only imagine what she was thinking as she eyed his length with that cute childish level of curiosity and sweet tinge of virgin anxiety. She needed to bite her lip to prevent it from trembling, wanting to squeeze her thighs shut when they too became unruly, wanting to protect what was kept between them.

It only made his cock throb even harder.

“I- fuck-” He grunted, thrusting shallowly up into her hand by angling his hips up, looking down upon her enticing pretty silken dew-kissed heat, his finger greedily reaching to touch the tender entrance only to hear her whimper out a small whine at once when his rough digits brazenly made contact. “You’re so shy, it’s adorable.” 

The loosely given hand-job felt good around his priorly ignored arousal, what with how sensitive he was, but was missing what her pussy was welcomingly dripping with. 

He lowered himself, hand grabbing his base to steady the attack, yet was declined by her placing her own hand in front of the poor unsuspecting virgin tightness. “Uhm, Kiri- I-”

He shushed at her, prying her hand easily away, replacing it with his own, rubbing those electrical patterns he did before into her pretty budding pearl. “No, no, Baby. Come on. Pretty please, it’ll feel so good, I’ll be gentle okay? It’ll be good, I promise.” He swirled his thumb over her clit, an act far from gentle, though sending those sharp involuntary spikes of pleasure into her core, giving to something pooling in her stomach, something warm and sticky and heavier than before, almost burdening with how it strained in the muscles of her thighs, making her shake beneath the man’s mere thumb. “I love you, Baby, don't you want us to take the next step?”

“Uhm...” She gasped as he abused the sensitivity under his course strength.

“Thank you, Baby.” He purred, lips carved into a smile fit for devouring, planting kisses down her face and into her neck, his cock pushing into the velvet folds.

But she backed up, balls of her feet pushing into the mattress, her palms doing the same, but Kirishima had other plans, none of them including letting her up.

“Kiri, no-” She pushed lightly at his chest then, as she’d done before, trying to soothe and smooth over the feathers she’d ruffled, trying ever so gently in those small soft caresses to apologize for having riled him up so.

But seems this time he wouldn't have that either, her hands cupped and pulled rather dismissively out of the way, dominated by his own and how he intertwined his digits, raking them in with her dainty ones, locking their hands, or rather securing hers, before pushing them flat into the sheets beside her, giving him full access to what lied beneath him without her bothersome fists getting in his way. “Come on, Babe... stop being a little tease...” Her hands slipped their confinements in his as he rather needed them to manage her body, felt that twitching itch to grab and grope and tug and pull at all her doughy flesh. She gasped as he groped a mans handful of her ass, bumping his bare cock into her, rubbing it up and over her pussy, bobbing between their stomachs.

His face was still so adamant on nibbling at the flesh of her collar, leaving what she knew to be ugly swelling purple stains that turned into those vile green and yellow marks looking like fungus blooming on her skin. “I’m sorry-” It was all too much to have his warm skin pressed against her, his naked hardness, all of him, his rough hands, his brutish needle-sharp teeth, that thing that poked at her, humped into her where he’d made a sticky wet hot mess, with her underwear put somewhere out of sight and most definitely out of reach. “I’m not ready to-” Her hands tried softly but with increasing effort at getting him off, trying to get her discomfort across to the seemingly clueless baboon who was handling her body to his own selfish ends on top of her. 

“It’s fine.” His voice was heated, soft despite trodding over her own, as he tried calming her down, again with his hands tugging at her wrists and pushing the annoying things away from him, again so he could lie himself down on top of her. “We’ll try something-” His efforts at soothing her weren’t appreciated by the girl beneath as she continued pushing, bordering on thrashing beneath the giant red-head.

“Kiri, stop. ” There was an edge to her voice this time, an edge he didn’t appreciate.

Large hand wrapped their fingers around her wrist and crushed it with a strength she couldn't hope to match, a dark chuckle following, rumbling just beside her ear alongside a small smile carving his lips at the cute pop of bones followed by her whimper. “Stop being so difficult, Babe.” He chastised, voice dismissive and completely unbothered by her spiked struggles, treating her reluctance like it was nothing but a minor inconvenience he could simply swat away like a fly. “I know you’ll like it, you just need to-”

“I don’t need to do anything!” She cried now, adorable small whines as she tried prying her hand out of his hold. “Get off me!”

“Kinda feels like you’re trying to piss me off here.” His tone darkened, and so did the look in his eyes, and though she was just short of bawling with the lump  of hopelessness and fear caught stuck in her throat, the adrenaline gave her such a rush of confidence as her leg finally managed to shuffle under his, allowing her to knee him right in that swelled thick slug he was so transfixed on appeasing.

And though she managed briefly to slip out from beneath him, it was no victory, and she felt that ounce of triumph that fluttered in her heart snuff out at the feel of his brawny taunt and rock hard arms wrap around her torso, hoisting her off the ground, only to throw her right back where she’d been laying not moments ago.

“Please, Eijirou, please, you're scaring me, stop.” She kicked now, flopping beneath him like a fish hauled up on a boat, tried prying her hands out of his grasp yet couldn't stop him from holding her down, rolling her on her stomach while he pulled off his uniform necktie, bending her arms behind her back and tightening the noose around her wrists, pulling the tail between them to secure the knot tightly, before rolling her back with her hands being crushed beneath her.

Her face reappeared tear-slicked and panicked. “There we go, all pretty and perfect for me.” He lightly tapped her face as he stuffed her mouth with the panties he fished back up from his pockets, settling between her legs again as she whined through the make-shift gag.

Rough course hand, like sandpaper, like rock, slid down between her thighs, slowly in their venture, pushing and kneading into the softness, hungry as they groped and pushed her open, wrapped her around his torso so he could slap his rock-solid cock onto her vulnerable little opening.

“Let me paint a picture for you, Babe.” He started, catching her attention. 

Her eyes so unbelievably wide as she looked up at him through the thick hazy ominous darkness of the room, a darkness that once seemed so cozy now so overwhelming, the sun having gone down, the TV turned to black, the lights left off and the only glimmer coming from the streetlights and the dim white glow of the moon shining in through her window, leaving Kirishima’s sharp teeth to hang above her and how they seemed to drip, eerie shadows cast upon his face, eyes red and hazy, drooped to slits, drunk and cocky as he continued rubbing his cockhead up through the lips of her pussy ever so causally, like she wasn’t bound and bawling beneath him. 

“So listen up and listen carefully. Can you do that, Babe?” 

She felt cold suddenly, chilled to her core by his tone, reduced to shivering beneath his confident touch, shuddering where she laid, chest pushed upward above the support her arms gave, head drawing in the dune of her pillow, thighs lifted to straddle her boyfriend’s waist, his hand keeping her there by curling his thumb into the underside of her knee. 

“The way I see it, you have two options.” He leaned in, voice sturdy but soft like a straight-jacket. “Either you be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” Tone swooping low into a growl. “Or...” 

His hands moved steadily as they began unbuttoning her shirt from the bottom up, planting a kiss on the newly exposed skin of her tummy, just short of her belly-button. The light scruff of his chin tickling the thin skin it rubbed against as he continued licking and nibbling on the flesh the more it was exposed to him. 

“You run along to your friends, tell them what a bad bad guy I am. They ask for proof, but silly little you have no proof to give.” He chuckled, warm breath breezed on the peach-fuzz of her chest as he kept sucking his marks into her, hands fingering the last of her buttons. “People love me, Buttercup, so let me ask you this...” The crimson spikes of his hair stuck into the underside of her chin as he licked up her throat, kissed her jaw and bit at her earlobe, whispering. “Who’s side you think they gonna take?” Humming as he watched another fat tear run down her cheek. “You go to the teachers, they ask for proof, something you still don’t have because there is none. And even if they did believe you... no saying they’d do anything about it. I’m destined to be a billboard hero. Do you really think they’ll throw all that away on some ditz from general studies?” Question after question, answer after answer, each one another stab and twist of the rusty blade in her hope. “Think again.” With her shirt open she witnessed him morph his hand into sharp rock, a jagged finger burrowing beneath the bridge of her bra and cutting the thick fabric loose, now fully exposed to his mouthful of teeth and slobbering tongue. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how the world works, Sweetheart.” 

She closed her eyes, clamped them shut, but it only helped her feel all his entitled actions even more, how he moved, rightfully, regardlessly, without regret or remorse. She swore she could feel him pulsating against her, his cock pumping against her swollen clit, where she could argue that the rip of him tearing apart her skirt was the loudest noise she’d ever heard in her life. 

“And perhaps it ends there, but I know you. You continue, trying to make anyone believe you, eventually ending up in management for crazy obsessed fanatic fangirls -of which I have many- or you give up.” His mouth enclosed her nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, fingers tweaking the other breast with boyish greediness. “Either way, you end up missing. With no friends to bother coming to find you, thinking that your delusional ass offed yourself, when in reality...” 

Large hand curling around her neck, squeezing as he rose to look down at her, rock his hips to allow his cock more friction, sliding up and down between her thighs, bobbing against her stomach, thrumming and spilling thick whiteness, dripping and smearing onto her skin. 

“You’re right back here with me.” 

Her heart skipped, seemed to stop, everything seemed to stop. His words hung poised, forgetting how to drop, like dust settling, lingering about the air as she looked up at him, thinking he looked like the onset of hell, like a demon, his hair like horns, his eyes like hellfire, and those teeth, those sharp unforgiving teeth. 

“You see, if you don’t give, I will take.” He juggled her head with the tight grip he had on her jaw, playing with her as his other hand swept through her delicate sensitive folds, made her cringe, try and shimmy away, all to his disgusting amusement shown in the snaggletooth that hooked over his lip as he smirked a grim curled line. “And right now it looks to me like I might just have to show you just how defenseless you are to stop me.” His digits wiggled inside her, and she whined into her panties as she sucked on them, her eyes clinging to the dangerous heat simmering inside his. “Aww see? You’re already getting so wet. Your body sure knows who it belongs to, I’m sure you will too, very soon.”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​ || Day Two: Contempt ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, blood ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

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It’s funny how being different is typically such a crime...unless that difference makes you useful.

Since a young age, Hinata has known that the world would treat her unkindly for what she is. That her abilities beyond that of a typical human would see her cast aside, glowered at from behind window panes, and shunned from any social gatherings.

...except those that required her abilities.

Those like her vary widely. From power over elements to gifts like her own that give sight into the future, witches - known all over the world by other names in other tongues - have been at odds with humanity since the two sides were first introduced. And as long as humans remain so stubborn and ignorant, the odds of finding a peaceful middle ground are slim.

But despite all that, Hinata has done her best to settle in, growing familiar with the people of her village and their needs. Though not skilled in their magic, her love for plants sees a decent business in selling flowers or herbs. But what most come to see her for - hooded and cloaked to avoid being spied by their neighbors - are her visions.

For like her mother before her, Hinata’s eyes can see beyond what lies before them, discerning flickers and moments that have yet to pass. And while many are more than willing to scorn her for it...just as many are eager to use it when it pleases them. Even the leader of their little town has stopped by once or twice. It’s Hinata he has to thank for the wife he found with her help.

But that doesn’t encourage him to help defend her with his influence over the people.

Some would think it only fair for Hinata to meet their contempt with her own. But it’s simply never been in her nature. She can’t blame them for their fear, as birthed in superstition as it is.

After all...she isn’t the only thing they have to fear...nor she they.

For there is a third world at play in their lives. One Hinata has rarely had to venture into, despite being the so-called twilight between their darkness and the sunlight of humanity. By whatever grace, those who call themselves the Nightwalkers have steered clear of her and her little town.

But no peace lasts forever.

“Miss Hyūga! Miss Hyūgaaa!”

Startling in her sitting room, Hinata abandons her sewing to meet a small group of people at the door. Carried haphazardly by several of them is a man...and painting his pale form is a worrying amount of blood.

“He’s been attacked! One’a the lord’s sons! By a monster!”

That gets her eyes to widen. “...set him here,” she directs, sweeping clutter from her table.

His garments are torn, and immediately she can’t help a grimace. There’s a terrible bite wound to his throat, which seems to be where most of the blood is coming from. If this is what she thinks it is…

“I need space to work,” is her quiet command, glad her reputation at least means they fear her enough to do as she says. Cleaned rags are gathered, water set to boil over her hearth. Clearing the wound of blood and debris, her eyes flicker between it and the pale planes of his face. If she had to guess, this is a vampire bite.

But that alone doesn’t seal his fate. Even if he was bitten...the monster’s infection could only take hold if they were in a frenzied state, pushed to their limits resorting to their basest form and instincts. He has a chance: he might still be human.

So, for now, she urges the others to leave so she can work uninterrupted. “I’ll send word when he wakes. Until then, I must tend to him, and quickly.”

Worried faces eventually turn and leave the way they came. Left in silence, Hinata begins doing her best to treat the bite. A brief friendship at a crossroads with a healer means she at least should be able to do this much...but much else will be beyond her skillset.

And if he is infected...she’s going to have quite the problem to deal with in a few days.

But for now she focuses solely on her task. Carefully dabbing a poultice into the punctures, she then wraps the bite in clean linen, boiled and dried.

All the while, he barely stirs, eyes closed and sunken in pain. Hinata glances to him often, but there’s little to glean.

Not yet.

Once he’s cleaned and bandaged, she manages to drag him to a nearby settee, a bed too far to reach. Not as comfortable, but better than the table.

For now...all she can do is wait.

Gently, fingers lift his eyelids. Beneath are dark irises, pupils contracting in the light. But at this stage, it’s too early to tell either way.

He’s left to rest, her evening passed by cleaning up the lingering mess of soiled cloth and blood on her table. Taking a light supper, she watches him occasionally twitch, groaning and sweating.

...this isn’t looking good. But there’s nothing she can do...a frenzied Nightwalker’s bite means only one of two things: death...or change.

And the latter is considerably worse in almost every way.

With little else she can do for him, Hinata turns in for the night, the typical sounds of her yard in the dark accompanied by his ragged breathing and occasional whimper.

Needless to say, she sleeps very little.

And come morning, her fears are confirmed. Lifting his lids, her heart sinks at the sight of flickering crimson irises.

He’s Turning.

Retreating, she braces a hand at her lips, unsure what to do. Once his transformation is complete, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with, with new abilities and instincts he’ll have nearly no control over. A danger to himself, and to others...not to mention a monster in their eyes. Even his family is sure to fear and hate him, now.

There’s little room for pity in their hearts when it comes to those beyond their specie.

The merciful thing would be to kill him now while he’s defenseless, and tell the others the wound claimed him.

...and yet…

Looking back, she can’t help but feel revulsion at the idea. Taking a life...she’s never done so before, though she’s been told more than once to prepare herself for the inevitable. Is it truly right to kill him? Does the pain he’ll feel really outweigh any possible good?

...she can’t.

Instead, she digs through a chest in her bedroom, fetching chains she never thought she’d have need for: forged in silver. Just...something to subdue him until she can help him make sense of all this. Carefully, she fastens them from the main beam of her home to each of his limbs and around his torso, sat up against the wood as he suffers through the changes wrought upon him.

...that’s all she can do. She knows no one else capable within traveling distance before he wakes.

She’s on her own.

For another day, and another night, he remains barely conscious, slumped over save for where the chains bind him. Every so often, Hinata carefully guides water between his lips, glad to see him drink. And when she goes to check the bite along his throat...she finds it already healed.

It’s when the sun sets on the third day that something changes. Mending a torn apron, Hinata stills as the sound of ragged breathing ceases. In its place, a groan, followed by murmured nonsense.

...he’s awake.

Setting aside her task, she moves slowly to stand in front of him. His breathing is still labored, but quiet, form leaned back in exhaustion against the beam. Eyes are closed...but snap open as her floor creaks.

She stills.

For a moment, the eyes are dark...but instinct - fresh in his veins - sees them flash a bright, tantalizing red. But he doesn’t struggle, just...stares.

“...you’re Sasuke, aren’t you?” Hinata asks, tone soft to avoid riling him. “Son of the county’s lord Fugaku Uchiha?”

No reply, still staring.

“...you were attacked three day ago. Something...bit you. Do you remember…?”

Breaking his gaze, he glances aside, clearly trying to think. “...it’s all so...foggy…”

“Given what you’ve been through, that’s understandable. You see, sir...when you were bitten, it…”

Realization seems to dawn on him. For a moment, his face slackens in shock...and then wilts with somber understanding. “...am I...no longer human…?”

So, he knows. Her own form softening, she can’t lie to him. “...no. No, you are not. If what I know is enough to reason with, then...I believe you’ve become a...a vampire.”

“...a monster…”

“...do you feel like a monster…?”

That lifts his gaze back to her face. “...I feel like...myself. But...strange.”

“Humans can be monstrous, too,” Hinata murmurs. “It is our actions that m-mark us as what we truly are. This...affliction does not define you, sir.”

“Sadly, no one else will see it that way.” His head leans back against the beam with a dull thunk, eyes closing. “...kill me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it...it goes against my nature. I’ll not harm you. Not unless...you give me a reason.”

“Is being as I am not reason enough?”

“No.”

The blunt reply clearly takes him aback. “...I am a nightmare. A threat that lurks in shadows. No matter where I go, contempt will follow me. Forever shunned by those I once called kin. All at the hands of another monster…”

“You still have a choice.”

Unfortunately...it’s then a knock pounds against her door.

It seems the others tire of waiting for news.

Turning to the sound, Hinata gasps at the sound of crunching wood. By the time she about-faces, he’s already free, the bottom of the beam splintered and the chains pooled at his feet.

“...I can’t stay here...I can’t -!”

“Sasuke, wait -!” Reaching out, she manages to lay a hand along his arm.

And in place of what she sees, she’s granted another vision. A wood-shrouded cottage, a gravel path, and a woman smiling in the doorway. She looks like -?

The contact is then broken, and Hinata flinches at the shattering of glass just as the door swings open.

Behind her, the crowd of humans gawk, torn between staring at the window and the beam. “...w...where’s the lord’s son?”

Staring through the broken panes, Hinata swallows dryly, only able to answer, “...gone.”

But she knows she’ll see him again.

Her visions never lie.

     Day two! And done in much better time that this morning last night! I have a nasty habit of writing at very peculiar hours, but I’ll try to get these done in better time so they aren’t buried lol      This time we’re going with my original monster verse, Of Monsters and Men! I actually have an (incomplete) mini series of sorts from the year-long challenge with this universe. It IS still on my list of things to make a proper fic out of, I just...completely underestimated how dreadful 2020 would be, so a lot of what I’ve wanted to do just...hasn’t gotten done OTL BUT! Someday, lol      This is more of an older setting, though I didn’t have an exact date in mind. And in all honesty it feels a bit rushed, a concept I’d do better with with more time and larger word count, but to avoid burnout I’m trying to keep these short. But if a prompt allows, I might do another part! I won’t be tying any of THESE drabbles to any previous events, but I’m not against things within THIS event being connected lol      Anywho, that’s all for today’s! Got other things to do tonight so I better skedaddle, but I hope you enjoyed!      ALSO, I’ll be doing comment reply posts at the end of each week to avoid clog, so I’m not ignoring any replies! I’ll do a post every seven days (tho the last I’ll just wait until the 31st). Until then I’m always thrilled to hear from you guys! <3

[panamastayed]

@sanctemony said:

Reflect. my dude if this isn't a john seed thing lmao.

SMUT PROMPTS––––ACCEPTING

Reflect - Our muses have sex and watch themselves in a mirror

IT WAS ALMOST LIKE A DRUG.

Poisonous but so INEVITABLY addictive. John Seed is poison, ANYONE who lived in Hope County could tell you that. HALF THE TIME his own men would break gaze as to not make him seem as though they’re CHALLENGING his will. It’s a WILD & FIERY way to live, but he was a man with power, and POWER was easy to lose control over. THE DARK AMBITION it brought out in other was palpable half the time.

BUT WITH it there were always moments. MOMENTS where that control took a different form. SOME NIGHTS it was easier to tell when he & John shared a bed. THE SOLDIERS knew to not breathe a word on the subject. KARTER himself cared very little for the opinions of FOOT SOLDIERS, but JOHN put rumors to bed quickly with his vehement DISMISSAL. Not out of disdain for the idea. FAR FROM IT, IT SEEMED. He was more concerned on the nature of people poking into his business. 

IT WAS something that was private for a reason. TIMES where they were alone was HALLOWED & SACRED TERRITORY. Not meant for the prying eyes of those who sought to PUSH into business they had no point in making themselves a part of. JOHN SEED’S sexual escapades, and WITH WHOM they involved were his business and he made that ABUNDANTLY CLEAR. 

BUT IT WAS NIGHTS LIKE THIS, where it was transparent that those RUMORS weren’t entirely false.

THEY SHARED A BED TONIGHT.

JOHN SEED was a man who favored his control. PERHAPS more than he’d ever openly admit to for the sake of appearing to be POWERFUL. Karter of course never doubted him. HE RESPECTED someone like him, the kind with enough GAUL to look defiance in the face and refuse to stand for it. He had power and he wasn’t afraid to use it either. NEVER was that more evident than when it came to the subject of THEM SHARING A BEDROOM.

HE’D BEEN CALLED IN LATE. Usually Karter kept watch outside John’s door through the night allowing him the rare chance to sleep when he could muster it, but tonight was an exception. JOHN HAD TROUBLE sleeping to begin with, but he was restless. THE EVENTS of this mornings shipment REGARDING the nature of his actions done for ‘WARMTH’ were still in the air. THE ENTIRE subject was one that ignited a game they played ON & OFF all day. John was riled, and when he was riled he DEMANDED relief. It was a demand Karter willingly and HAPPILY complied to. 

FROM THE MOMENT the door closed behind him, DEADBOLT lock ( he had it installed after Karter had begun sharing his bed every so often ), THE STAGE is set. John’s demeanor shifting. HE’S IN COMPLETE CONTROL. It’s barely enough time before CLOTHES COME OFF, strewn across the floor, DISCARD as John ravages him. TEETH biting, MARKING, making his POSSESSION known. HE DIDN’T LIKE to leave any sort of doubt in Karter’s mind of WHO the ARCHANGEL, mighty & powerful, belonged to when REDUCED to nothing more than noises of pleasure when the NIGHT CAME.

PINNED up against walls, MOVING ABOUT the room and doing as he’s told just to FIRE UP John’s ego. HIS stunt earlier seemed to have IGNITED a fire in John that RAGED on through the night. 

JOHN SEED belonged to NO ONE, but Karter wonders amidst the chaos IF PERHAPS that’s what drove him. DROVE HIS PLEASURE. Seeing that Karter BENT to his will and SOUGHT to show JUST who it was that ENSURED the safety of the Herald of Holland Valley. 

IT BEGINS as standard, Karter on his knees, WORSHIPPING at his feet like a god, DOING as he’s told while John simply REVELS in the pleasure of the control. REVELED in the feeling of BRINGING the archangel to his knees to SERVICE him. HEAD MOVING up and down rhythmically, JOHN’S fingers curl into SOFT MESSY hair, tugging him off and maneuvering, BARE BODIES strewn across the bed as John SMIRKS wickedly, TURNING him into his stomach their bodies ANGLED to face the FULL BODY mirror in the corner of the room. IT WAS MEANT to aid in ensuring John’s attire was perfect each morning.

THE SAME hand tugging Karter by the HAIR to force his gaze at their reflection, JOHN’S HIPS snapping forward causing a LOUD skin on skin SLAP to echo through the room as he WEARS his smug BUT GENUINELY pleased grin, his hips moving at a PUNISHING pace while he HOLDS Karter down against the bed, GRUNTS coming from his lips as he formulates his WORDS. Weaving them CAREFULLY. Driving Karter MAD with this possessiveness that HE CLUNG TO.

‘Look at that, LOOK at what I do to you...ONLY I CAN DO THIS TO YOU.’

THERE IT IS AGAIN. He’s showing his dominance...HIS CONTROL. Asserting that possession over him with NO REMORSE. But the reflection alone drives KARTER MANIC. Allowing himself to RISE in volume, STROKING John’s ego and GIVING in to his control.

“Yes–––ONLY YOU.”

THE SOUND of the word ‘yes’ NEARLY send John into a frenzy, PUNISHING pace REWORKED, thrusts BORDERLINE violent from how hard they arm, PUSHING and holding before repeating the action, JOHN’S head dipping to leave another mark, A BITE MARK this time before he pulls back, SMIRKING widely.

‘FUCK––Yes. ONLY MINE. My ANGEL. Only making those SOUNDS, that FACE, ONLY FOR ME.’

HE RELISHES IT. They both do. They’d played the game and John had CLAIMED his prize at the end of it. REMINDING himself & Karter who it was that THE ARCHANGEL belonged to. IT’S SHEER BLISS, more sounds of DESPERATION escaping him as his FLUSED, disheveled expression is put on FULL display. JOHN halting, burying all the way to the HILT and whispering in Karter’s EAR  a single command.

‘Say it.’

“Yes John. I’M ONLY YOURS.”