Grinning widely, Hidan leaned his weight back on his heels, his red-stained hands palms up on his knees. Today his God had promised him a prize, a physical gift for him to treasure and to do with whatever he willed for as long as it lasted. It could be a weapon, it could be clothes, it could be a bird for all that Hidan cared. All he needed to know was that it was from Jashin, and it was his.
The dead body of some nameless brat lay splayed out in a glorious spread of gore, bile, and red. Red that covered the rocks around them, spreading in the wash of rain that fell like hard little fists of spite. The sacrifice had been an ice user. Well, the ice was gone now, all that was left was an empty shell.
Somewhere off in a distance his partner was still playing with the teammates of this nin. Hidan hadn’t told Kakuzu about the little extra that he would be gaining today, or else he was sure the sadist would be lurking, watching. Absently, the albino wondered how much would the information broker be willing to pay for a religious experience of his own.
But then the lines of blood flared, glowing with a light that matched the dying sun. Drops of life flew into the air, an ever tightening vortex that hemmed in around the sacrifice.
Never one to hold back when it came to anything in life or death, Hidan surged up to his feet, wavering only once at the loss of so much blood, but his wine-red eyes quickly refocused. “Show me, Jashin! Allow me to behold my gift!”
The swirling cyclone of water and blood roared outwards, a sudden explosion. When Hidan blinked thick liquid away from his eyes, his maniacal laughter shot through the woods, high and delighted.
There was a woman standing over the scattered pieces of the corpse. She was drenched and gloriously nude. Thick long hair fell in ebony streams, over her shoulders and breasts, tickling down to her waist. Pale arms, lean muscles shifting under a patina of goosebumps, rose up as she sank down into a fighter’s crouch. Her pale lilac eyes were locked on his, lips pressed firmly together, dark brows furrowing.
She wasn’t running. She wasn’t cringing. She wanted to fight… and from the look in those flashing eyes, she would beat him to a gelatinous pulp before she would think of asking him anything.
His laughter died down to a hungry wicked grin. Lips peeled back, he ran his tongue over the tips of his teeth, imagining what it would feel like to mark that white flesh. What it would be like to graze his soiled hands over her skin? Would she flush pink like a peach under his touch? He doubted it. But she was his, whole and now. And unlike any of his gifts to Jashin, he planned on keeping this woman alive for as long as possible. Convert her if she wasn’t already a jashinist.
“What’s your name?” Ooo… that was telling. His voice was already rough. Well, maybe she didn’t mind that he was throbbing below the belt. Fuck, but she was sex embodied: dripping wet, feral, crouched over the remains of his opponent, and painted the reds and golds of the sunset.
Certain things tightened down around his navel as the woman narrowed her eyes and lifted her lip. No, he didn’t think he’d get a verbal answer… but there were other ways of knowing someone.
Easing forward a step, Hidan snickered as she tensed. Her pretty hands, rigid blades made of flesh, bone, and sinew, centered on him. She wasn’t even bothering to try to cover herself, letting her hair cover what it would, a partial screen of raw black silk. “You’ll need a real weapon if you want to hurt me,” he said, relishing the thought of more pain. Kakuzu would call him a degenerate, but the visceral fantasy of this gift sliding a blade under his skin had him shivering.
An unexpectedly soft voice pulled him from his imagination. “I have my weapons.” Cool blue chakra bloomed over her hands in a shimmering fire that he could feel yards away.
Those would tickle, Hidan mused, swallowing the saliva that came with a memory of a punch like a thousand-pound sledge-hammer, shattering bone and tissue alike. “Hidan,” he said, taking another step forward. “My name is Hidan. Now what is yours?”
They were going to start this properly with names, and then begin a battle he suspected would slake any lust he would have for nights to come. Of course, she would be there too, so he could always refresh the memory. Add new angles. Positions. Force.
Pausing, he inhaled slowly, letting his gaze linger over her form one more time while it was pure and white, unblemished, untouched. His. “Hinata,” he breathed.
Prompt: black silk
When he resumed his pace forward, Hinata’s breath hissed in through her teeth. A warning, a final threat. Hidan grinned at her and lazily swung his scythe out, watching her body react to the obvious pain it promised. Her fingers stiffened, her toes dug into the hard rock, ignoring the gore and fragments of bone.
“Byakugan!” Those pale eyes stayed on him, even as they changed and when his weapon traced an arc over his head.
“Do you know why you are here?” he asked. His only answer was the stillness of her form as she committed herself to the fight. There would be no half-measures here, nothing but a dance of life and pain. He licked his lips, tasting the blood of the sacrifice. Would she taste the same? Saltier? Sweet?
She didn’t flinch when he stopped mere feet away, but stayed, waiting. Watching.
“You are mine, Hinata,” he crooned, flashing her a wide grin, full of dominance and promise. “And will be for a very long fucking time.”
Oh, he saw that. He was close enough now that he could see how her transformed eyes widened. Her breasts rising a stiff deep inhale. The strands of her hair curled and twisted, falling away from her skin and he itched to feel them twined about his fist, pulled tight against his fingers.
The chakra was now running skin deep over her entire frame, drying the water from her body in a flash of fury. “I am no one’s,” she hissed and he didn’t bother to hold back the cackle as she darted at him, hands snapping forward for his torso. Teaching her otherwise would be fun.
He slapped the first shot aside, but accepted the second strike just to feel it. Hinata didn’t disappoint. A fiery blossoming pain erupted just inside his shoulder as she connected with his flesh.
She was already striking with the first hand when Hidan caught her wrist, spun them both around, flipped her away, letting his scythe swing out… and to his delight, she ducked.
And to further his satisfaction, Hinata pushed forward again almost as soon as the triple blades cleared her head. It was a race between what would happen first, Hinata putting her hot hands on him again or his weapon returning to his grasp.
The albino snickered as he watched her close in on him, the weapon just a split second away. One flickering hand shot for his solar plexus, but he twisted, elbow coming down for her exposed ribs.
He smirked as she snapped in her arm, driving away his jab. The smirk grew as she pivoted in place, her opposite palm coming around for his lower stomach. Maybe she had picked up on his boner. The robes he wore weren’t that concealing.
Dancing away, Hidan let his joy bubble forth. “You’re fucking playing with me, Hinata!” he jeered, the staff of his scythe settling into his palm. “C’mon, you need to kill me to get away.” Her jaw firmed at his words, but Hidan rolled his eyes. There was still no killing intent rolling off her. “Lame, Hinata. Lame.”
He let her have a moment to plan, and then he was on her, blades and laughter her only warning.
His first strike, like Hinata’s, was deflected, but his second scored a line across her thigh, and his third pulled blood in a seeping trail across her back. Light wounds, but pointed. He wouldn’t kill her, but if she didn’t want to be kept… Hinata would have to kill him. And since that wasn’t going to happen, well, she’d just have to realize that soon.
The aim wasn’t to initiate the ceremony, but Hidan couldn’t resist the urge to lick the traces of her life from the top most blade.
Maybe he had paused too long. Maybe she suddenly decided to maim him instead of kill. In either case, his tongue had just slipped back into his mouth when suddenly Hinata was in front of him and both palms were driving into his right rib cage.
There was a split second of ‘oooh fuck!’ and then there was the muffled crunch, a flash of white searing pain, and Hidan was flying. A second crunch rattled his frame as a tree stopped his momentum. By sheer chance, his legs found solid ground, and he stood leaning back against his support as his focus steadied.
Letting out an appreciative moan, Hidan smirked at the white face of his gift. Good thing Jashin afforded smart regeneration. For others, mangled bones calcified in awkward ways.
“Not bad,” he rasped out, brow rising as he felt a splintered bone scrape a lung. “Better.”
Not a few inner organs screamed out in protest as he pushed off the trunk, but Hidan merely took a breath to test that one bone. It traced a burning trail along the inside, but it hadn’t pierced. Yet.
“Wh-what are you?”
Hmm… Hidan opened his eyes as the sun finally slid away and studied the woman who did so much satisfying damage. Her eyes were wide, and there was a faint tremble to her arms. The fear was inevitable, but it never painted as wonderful a picture as fury. “I am Hidan,” he said with a careful, agonizing, shrug. “Jashin is my god.”
Because what else was there to say? Being a jashinist was his soul, his calling, his life. By giving his god death, in all its glory, and then his own, Jashin prolonged his life, bringing him back from the brink time and time again. He was given the honor of an eternity to praise Jashin and send his defeated opponents to his god’s keeping forever.
Across from him, Hinata frowned, hands still up, but her stance had lost its hunter’s edge. “I… don’t understand.”
The shark grin Hidan adopted put her back on that edge, snapping her from frightened doe to wary hawk. “That’s for later,” he promised her, rotating his head and popping a few joints back into place. “For now, you just need to know one thing.” And as wonderful as this fight had been, that last hit had been a good one.
Those glorious eyes widened as Hidan surged forward, scythe spread out wide at his side. She managed to dodge his first two blows, even counter his third. But when the cable at the end of his weapon snaked around, she made the mistake of watching it instead of him.
His fist slammed into her stomach and a split second later the kick to her chest–above those perky breasts–slammed her back first into the rock cliff.
It didn’t take her long to raise her head, but by that time, his scythe was whistling through the air, the tips shearing into the rock, kicking up shrapnel for yards around.
Hand braced against the glistening rock by her cheek, Hidan leaned in to watch her eyes flutter open. Her smooth neck was caught between the second and third blade, the left side of her throat wept from a shallow scrape. Tch. Fucking slate. But he could only blame himself for that. The excitement had gotten to him. Next time, I will be the only reason she bleeds.
He laughed as she gasped, her hands instantly coming up to strike out at him. With her pinned, her blows were easily redirected and soon he had her arms crossed down over her stomach, held by his free hand.
Smirking, he watched her expression slide from shock to fear to panic to resignation and frustration. The twilight suited her colours, muted purples and cool blues. Hidan was sure she’d be breath-taking in moonlight.
“Now what,” she asked, those pale eyes staring straight into his own red.
Lifting a brow, the zealot leaned in close until their noses were a mere finger-width away. “Now,” he murmured, “you know you are mine.” With a low hum, he pressed close, relishing the shifting of his bones as he met her skin to skin and breathed in the scent of her blood. “Feel free to fight back,” he told her, and when her confused face tilted up to question his words, Hidan smirked and sealed his lips over hers.
Of course she bit him. But then, he had started it.
It was possible to have sex with broken bones. Hidan knew that for a fact. But having standing sex with a skilled hand to hand ninja while nursing shattered ribs was very different from just having a cracked collarbone and a willing whore.
Not that he wouldn’t be willing to give it a try… but Hidan wasn’t in the mind of breaking Hinata’s mind. A rape victim was a bitter thing that fought with only half their soul. Not something he wanted to keep around for very long.
He drew back after her teeth released his lip, making sure to step completely away from her front snap kick. “I think I like you!” he crowed, delighted by his gift. Jashin had chosen so well.
Her leg lowering, Hinata glared at him, her body one long line of straining muscle. Hidan snickered when he noted that she was balancing on the balls of her feet.
“Want down?” he asked, reaching out and grasping the handle of his weapon.
Eyes narrowing to slits, the woman ground out, “Yes.”
Oh yes, she was going to be fun. Not to break, but to play with. With a wrench, the blades pulled free, and Hidan caught his breath as the knitting ribs reminded him that full-body motion would come with white sparkles.
A blur of white and black had Hidan swinging the scythe around–he liked the flashes of pain–and at the zenith of its arc, it was knocked aside as Hinata struck out. A counter to a counter.
He smirked as the girl panted, the exertion catching up to her. “How about we continue in the morning?” Because she was going to be there in the morning. And every morning after that for years to come if he had his way. Hidan was really looking forward to that.
Hinata was watching him, the confusion still plain on her face. “Why?”
Watching as his green-eyed partner emerged from the woods to his left, Hidan nodded towards Kakuzu. “Because he likes his fucking sleep.” He didn’t have to check to see the sneer that engendered from the big ninja.
The woman paled even further, eyes shifting between the two men. “And it’s going to be sleep, tonight?”
Silent and brooding, Kakuzu only glanced at Hinata before turning to Hidan. “She better not be a problem.”
Seriously, it was like no one had faith in him anymore. Well, all but Jashin, but hell, Jashin was the only one who mattered. “Fuck you,” he told his partner, and then to Hinata, “Not my preference, but yeah, just sleeping.”
She could try running away instead of sleeping, Hidan could imagine the various escape plans the kunoichi would think up with a handful of peaceful hours to work with. For the first time, Hinata looked around, taking in more than just the immediate area. “Here?”
Beside him, his partner growled. “Next time you pick up a woman, make sure she’s mute.” Spinning on his heel, Kakuzu stalked into the trees.
Hidan rolled his eyes. Bitch, bitch, bitch. “We got a camp not far from here.” Gesturing her closer, he grinned as she scowled at him. “You’re not going anywhere without me, Hinata.”
This time he walked to her, and though she put up a moment of resistance, he had her chakra shut down in the end. “Didn’t think I knew how to do that, did you?” he teased as she gasped at the drain.
She started at the touch of cloth as he draped his black and red cloak over her shoulders. As she turned to stare at him, he smirked. “Mine.”
Hinata only turned away, refusing to acknowledge the press of his hand between her shoulder blades.
Swiping his tongue over his lips, Hidan shrugged again, in a way just to feel those shards scrape again. “Let’s go.”
Under his hand, he felt her muscles tense, but she strode forward, out from under his grasp. Chuckling, Hidan grinned wide.
A/N: Something new. I don’t know where it’s going… Hidan’s mind is a scary place.
Probably will continue this later. Obviously continued.
(As if Velvy or Ariel would allow me to stop. *snorts*)