Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

In Crimson Blood	By : gauchewolf Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 4058 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
THE LUST OF THE LORD.

A/N: Thank you to all those who
read (liked or disliked) this fic.
Special thanks to those who reviewed. They were few but were very, very
encouraging words.

Sesshomaru’s POV is written
in plural form i.e. he addresses himself as ‘we’ instead of ‘I.’ Sounds a lot cooler and that’s how
royalty works, I guess (hehe).

Warnings:
Mention of Rin’s death. I read somewhere that in manga’s 400 sth
act Rin dies. So I used that bit of info.

Sesshomaru’s POV.

We don’t relish in the
cries of the dying. We don’t bathe in the blood of those privileged
enough to be dead by our hands. Those things hold no relevance to us. Yes, we
always like a good opponent worth our attention but we, the lord of the western
land, this Sesshomaru does not find thrill in those petty things.

Nothing attracts us. Nothing can
make us react or draw our interest. Yes, maybe Rin. Something in her pulled out
response from us. We liked her enough to abide with her, to give her our
protection. But, no more. No more. She is gone…her innocence, her glee,
the jubilant light surrounding her always. Maybe she reminded us the child we
wanted to be. The child we never could have been… but we don’t
lament in the death of a child. Yes, we were in denial but now, now we have
moved on… Never Again.

And then, there is him. Alive and
breathing. Our father’s sin.

The black shame demeaning the
beauty of the moon.
Like the unbecoming scent of a
beautiful flower.
Like blood in the hands of a
child.
No. More than that…
Like…like the lifeless eyes
of Rin.
No. More, more than that…
Like tears in the eyes of this
Sesshomaru…
No, more than that…we seem
to be in lack of words….
Like, yes, like an intimacy
between a mother and child, a child who is a child no more.

Yes, taboo like no other. The
half-breed that is our brother, our blood.
And yes, the only one remaining
that affects us the most. The one that calls out our anger and our lust more
swiftly than we draw out our Tokijin from its sheath.

Inuyasha.

But we, we control our sword. We
are its master. It servers us, not the other way around. But the lust, the
anger he draws out from us, it almost, almost masters us. Almost!!

It makes our body alive with
heat, such no one has ever been able to…eyes red with blood, mulish
canine lust, that swells every time he is at our presence. This manhood of ours
throbs, throbs with want, demands release. It controls our hands, makes us
touch our self, for no one else will do, that we know. It cannot be subdued by
a warm hole of a whore. It needs his hole, his blood. No one else! Such lust
tries to shred our control so much so that we want to shred him into pieces and
bathe in him, kill this lust along with him. And yet, for some reason, we
don’t. Neither do we let this lust bring us down!

The anger he brings out of us,
makes us think we can ravish this nature, bare her from every beat of life that
exists, as long as he and we are only the ones alive and he is ours to do as we
please! We want to defeat him, suckle all his strength away. We want him to shake
with fear…we want him to beg for mercy, we… we…we want…we…

Had not noticed that our claw had
bled our palm. Hn. Our anger and our lust when it comes to him, has even
managed to shock us. They know no bounds.

So, as we witness our brother,
the taboo perform something that claims to be more taboo than he, himself is.
It ignites the darkness in us and our eyes, we are sure have already lightened
with lust.

We had also lost a human that had
been precious to us. Yes, our and his affection might have been incomparable.
Nevertheless we used her death to strengthen us, denial to get us through.
…but he…that filthy weak hanyou rubs his naked body along the one
that is dead and yet we find our self watching, mesmerized we confess, to the
play of his muscles, sounds of his moans. The tempo, the rhythm of his body
against the dead one, draws us towards him and our blood boils, fire courses
through our veins…we watch him desperately clinging to the rotting
nigen…and yet we are enthralled …we throb and that is all we
know…we watch him licking the monk, drinking the smell, the scent, taste
the dead and we are captivated by the play of his tongue, by his passion bared
free…only him is all we see…Nothing else.

We are not
appalled by the sight. We do not know the plausible reason to that. A hanyou, a
dead monk, Inuyasha doing the despicable act that should shame the blood that
runs through both of us…bathing in his own semen, howling pain and
pleasure in the air…and yet we are mesmerized…drawn…like
being bound by a spell. His spell.

STRANGE…

Even more so,
as we find our self moving towards him. Strange… even more so as we pick
him up, his spent body shivering, his semen we smell and we throb!!! Tensaiga throbs too for being
in presence of his brother, lying some where in the ground. Our father’s
legacy cast away like a piece of metal. Heh!

Our claw digs
in his neck, he is almost dead. Almost.

And yet, as our
hunger demands us to devour him, we are acutely disgusted. NOW.

STRANGE…

These are not
the eyes of that hanyou that challenged us, countless times. This is not the
same lithe body that had mesmerized us, like none had ever been able to,
hanging in the air like a ragged doll. We are angry and disappointed. This is
not what we had expected! This could not be the aftermath of the bloodbath that
had been so promising. This dead-alive, warm-cold body, lifeless defeated eyes,
this disgusting smell, tantalizing us still…this is not the Inuyasha we
knew.

We would have
been satisfied with that callous Inuyasha, who had caused the bloodbath. He had
aroused our interest so much so that we couldn’t refrain but see for our
self, what he had become to perform such an act. But it seems we were belated.
At least, he would have put up some fight…he would not have been
this…this pathetic… We
would have rejoiced to devour an angry Inuyasha, wild with pain and denial than
a one that is weak and already defeated.

But this canine
lust wants him still…the portrait of him in the throws of passion, in the
smell of heat…will haunt us…but still, this is not who we
want.

His blood
drenches our claws, he doesn’t even whimper, he doesn’t even look
at us.
This filth
doesn’t even acknowledge our presence, even when he is hung by the neck
in the air?

The Inuyasha
that we had wanted to bring down, our brother that we had wanted to possess,
wanted to annihilate, dominate, exterminate, wanted to afflict, wanted to take
with possessed lust… wanted to…to…to…Ugh!!

The ambers of
passion that used to burn in him, something that even we couldn’t help
but get attracted to, has been replaced by the smell of the dead, by the
undergo of the defeat. The Inyasha that gave us the thrill that no one had, nor
could in a battle, has been defeated just by the death of a nigen! We will NOT stand this. We did not want to see
him like this. Perhaps…yes, perhaps by our hands, from our doing but not, not just by the death
of a nigen!

He should have
fought us…he should be angry…he should have shown that brave
façade of his…he shouldn’t have let us just grab him like a
dead prey that he is not. He should have fought us…get our adrenaline
pumping...bark those obscenities…not play dead…

We are angry.
We cannot restrain the snarl that rips out from our throat. We throw him away
like the dead he almost is. We see him thrash down against a tree…slam to
the ground like he had no wish to save the fall.

Where is that
reckless grace he used to control his movements with?
We want him the
way he was before. This Sesshomaru should be the one making any
difference to him, not a dead monk!

We walk to him and snarl at him.
Yet again he doesn’t acknowledge us. He lays there, contorted, a
beautiful ragged doll. The taboo we want for our self. The taboo that makes us want to be the same. Want to take him, pour our lust, shove our shaft in him, our
own blood…yes, the taboo that makes want to be the same. Aberration.

A crack in the armor of this
Sesshomaru. Our hate, our lust.

Why the moon does not shun him?
Instead, she makes him shine, she rejoices when she bathes him. Eyes closed,
disarray of his mane, silver-white attempting to shield away his bared skin,
limp limbs, limp sex, shallow shuddered breathes…chest drenched with
seed…he lies there…how can he still be so, so alluring, look so
pure, unblemished after all that he is, after all that he has done?
Why do we want him so, we almost, almost reach out to take
him, devour him, perceiving his demeanor as submission,
as invitation. For us. Two of those
things that we do not want him to grant us with. Two of those things we
will never seek out of him, never
accept in him. No. We want him when he doesn’t want us to have him. That
is how we want him, desire him.

We bend down to fist his mane in
our claw.

“Inuyasha” At least
our voice do not betray us. He doesn’t retort like usual. He
doesn’t even open his eyes and we couldn’t help but wonder about
the intensity of his fall from sanity. The intensity of his affection for the
human. We push such irrelevant thoughts away. “Inuyasha!” We shake
him and we feel his mane break and tangle in our claw. Such beauty wasted on
someone like him…or is it worth calling beautiful only because of what he
is? We seem to be full of irrelevant thoughts…

He is relying on our grip, leaning
against our thigh and we can barely hold our thirst. He looks like a child
being cosseted by its elder. Heh! Irony. Sometimes, irony is highly amusing.

He opens his eyes. The dead eyes
that now look so much like ours than it did ever before. We do not like this.
He and we are not the same. That’s the thrill of this all! He tries to
turn his head away but we hold it firm. Our presence won’t be ignored by
a filthy half-breed ever again!

He stares at me. The only one
alive to stare at us as our equal.
We backhand him and again bring
him to face us; blood dripping down his chin…its scent makes us shiver.
We lean down to lick it away and we taste him, all of him, his blood, his essence…the dead lingering on him.
And we shiverrr!

He tries to jerk his head away
with more force than he’d done before. We smile.
He should learn to fear this
smile. Now this is more of what we wanted. What we had expected.

Live in this moment, Inuyasha. Breathe with us. Come alive.

We retract our claws and he thuds
to the ground. He shouldn’t be this weak. We claw his neck and then lick it clean.

The fire is returning to your eyes. Come alive.

We lean down, suckle his neck,
clean him from the oozing redness…we wanted this so much! But this is not
about us now. He snarls at us and tries to push away. We smile again. Like we
said, he draws out reactions from us like no one ever could. We are bringing
him back to life!

We claw him again; twist his mane
in our hand and our tongue bathes in his blood. Crimson draws pattern in him
that is so rousing and we lick him clean. A whimper of pleasure almost forced
its way out of our throat when he swipes his weak claws down our cheeks. We
bleed too. Oh…the sinful pleasure…and our blood smell almost the
same, yet very, very unlike. Arousing.

We pull him up, face to face and
he snarls at us. Shows his fangs and we can’t help but find it amusing.
He is wiggling to break free, running his claws where ever it could come to
contact with our person and we can’t help but rejoice in such pain that
it is so close to pleasure. He doesn’t know what his panic is doing to
us. How it is flaring the flames that already burns high. His body is still so
weak but it seems his mind has awakened. Hn. This is more interesting than
we’d thought it to be.

Live in this moment, Inuyasha. Breathe with us. Come alive.

We bare his neck and bite him
deep. He arches against us in pain, his claws ripping through our clothes,
making us bleed. We don’t care. His arch is almost like the one we saw a
mere moment before, his arch when he sprayed his seed. Such exquisite sight! He
is thrashing against us, angry and in fear. His aura has awakened, we can smell
it flaring. We sink down harder and we throb even harder in between our legs.
He is fighting blind, but he can do nothing. We are drowning in his scent, in
his fear. Our brother, our hate is returning back to us. We retract our fangs
and sink even further. If we cannot push our manhood inside of him then our
fangs will have to do.

“AAAARRRGGHHH!!!”.
His scream if it was possible could have awakened the dead.

Almost there, Inuyasha. Come alive!

We smell you. Your youki. The Inuyasha that will fight us, that will be
brought down by no other but only by the hands of this Sesshomaru!

“SESSH…ARGHHH!!”
His voice crackles. He shouts our name. We raise our head. He is no longer in
the land of dead. He knows us. We smile.

Scream, scream in anger and pain and not in remorse. . . We won’t
have any of that now.

We drag our claw over his abraded
cheek…red tears awake, flowing from his eyes to his chin. He will not be
bothered by bygone scars. We will give him new ones to keep him alive. We will
give him fresh ones to throb with life. We will see to that.

Let your eyes bleed with the tears that are red, that are anger not crimson
rue. We won’t savor that in you. Come alive.

His eyes wide awake with fear and
recognition, he looks at us. Does he realize what he has done, what he had been
doing? Does he even have enough sense to know that this Sesshomaru is cradling him, drawing pain, anger, fear
out of him so that he would be alive? We doubt. We hold our claw still and lick
them again all the while he stares at us. He is not thrashing against us. He
doesn’t even remove himself from our painful embrace. Heh!

We see him lifting his claw and
bringing it close to his eyes, like inspecting them, in awe, like he is
astonished. He looks at us with question in his eyes, and we find our interest
in that look. Like we said, everything about him attracts interest, attention
from us. We wonder what is going inside that mind of his. And like so many
times before he doesn’t fail to surprise us for he drags that claw, deep
from below our eye down to our chin. Crimson tears, we cry too. We are not
angry, we are just surprised.

You will never act in abasement, now will you Inuyasha? You will show no sign of abatement
either. Hn. This is you, Inuyasha. Come alive.

He brings that claw to his mouth
and like we’d done before he does the same. His tongue curling around his
claws he licks our blood, follows the ones trailing down the back of his hands
with an elegant twist of his wrist, and graceful swipe of his tongue all the
while watching us with question is his eyes.

We see him blink. Look at us.
Blink. We see him swallow, his throat moving, savoring our taste in his mouth,
we hear him swallow.

“Quenching your thirst,
Inuyasha?” Leaning down, cupping his chin, we speak, “With our
blood.”

We lick his bleeding cheek.
“We are too.”

We draw back, looking at his face
we see him mouthing a word. Our name.

He brings his claw in between our
faces turning them on us. He surprises us again. He fists it on our mane. Hard.
He still has strength. He tries hard to pull himself up, using his grip on our
mane he struggles up. He has courage. We will admit that. Courage enough to
take liberty of our mane. Feh! It is highly amusing.

We feel him shaking and
struggling, he speaks, “Sesshou…sesshoma..rruu”, he pants,
head bowed he pants. We return the favor of his claw in our mane by doing the
same. We force his face up…we don’t like the look in his eyes. He
does not…they do not look
alive…

“Sesshomaru…”
He swallows.

We don’t grant him with an
answer. We wait. We yearn to hear him say words that will thrive with the pain
of being alive.

“Sesshomaru…I..I…”
He whispers.

The hanyou always tests our
patience. We grip him tighter and we feel him losing his grip on our mane.

“Sessho-” His hands
falls away.

“…sesshomaru…”
We feel his breath, warm and soft against our face. Like subtle caresses. We
move our face away.

“…ki-…Sess-”
He tries to took away. We hold him still.

“Sesshomaru…I-I..wan-…ki…k-kill…me” Strong whispers, against our face, clenches
our chest with iron fists. With that he bares us his throat. Eyes closed, white
pale column, with skin and bones, nerves and veins, ripe with blood, he
presents us with his pulse. With. His. Pulse!

“Kill me.” He
whispers.

Determined. Strong whispers, against our face, clenches our chest with
iron fists. Makes us see blood, our claw quakes with barely controlled
violence… ‘kill me…’… ‘kill
me…’ he says…dead words he says…dead, DEAD WORDS!!!

He gives us, NO willingly grants us with his life, with his submission…offers his
life…his pulse… … …Whispers words, every one of those
words that we had not expected to hear…words that we had almost, almost feared…

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

We…WE…WE…!!!

We had never been this angry.
This enraged that we almost, almost kill him. Our effort whisked in vain! He is
not that Inuyasha!

“Those are not the words
that you should be speaking.” Our fang grazes his face as we draw him
close. He looks us with plea in his eyes and regret and shame. Eyes abound with
shame. Dead Eyes.

“What are you regretting for, Inuyasha?” We try
to control. Our voice just a breath of tight, forced whisper. We’d never
known before the bitter taste of disappointment, of being failed of our
expectation.

“Are you regretting for some dead nigens?” We snarl. He
just looks at us. “Is this the shame for rejoicing in the unspeakable,
for taking pleasure in the dead, Inuyasha?”

Astonished eyes look right into
ours. He tries to push at our claw but we hold him against us. He gasps and
wheezes for air as we tighten our hand in his neck.

“Yes, we saw it all, little
brother. Witnessed the supposedly scorned act. You rubbing your naked body
against the fetid nigen. You, crying pleasure pain for the dead to listen. Yet,
it was we that listened it all and throbbed. We have the taste of the dead
through your tongue….yet we’ve savored
it all…but ‘you’ are appalled?"

“Aaackkhhhnn…"
Thrashing against our hold, his claws makes our wrist bleed. But we don't care
for petty things.

"We’ve been where your kill
lies, in pieces. We’ve seen how you've shred those nigens…not even
a child you've spared, half breed…and yet you think your filthy little cowardly death will make any
difference." Snarl rips out of our throat. We bury our face in his
tresses. Seeking to find some control in those shadows, in his heat.

"How can you even assume
that your death will make any difference?" We graze his neck with our
fangs, rejoicing in the delicate shivers running down his spine. Shivers of not
pleasure, but of disgust…We smile.

"Your stupidity does not
amuse us neither does your cowardice." We mouth those words against the
flicking ears that brand him the hanyou he is. “Are you seeking
salvation, that too by our hands?
FEH! Who, tell us half-breed, who are
you to ask us to kill you?"

He still struggles against our
hold. It seems he has changed his mind. "Why struggle-" We tighten
our claws even more, suffocate him. "When we are doing what you pledged
for?” We couldn't help but sneer. Our voice has lost control. "You
will not get an easy escape…not by our hands, even not by your own!"
We lift him up along with us and his legs dangle. Naked body we hold up for the
night to devour for the moon to rejoice…for us to lust. Not for us to
shred. No. We. Will. Control.

The air around us, swirls through
our manes, caresses our heated skins. Its vain attempt to lick away the scent
from us, but our scent will be embedded in him. We will make sure of that.

"Concede in these words that
we say, take them as the brotherly
advice you never received before, little brother…" Suckling the tip
of this ear, we loosen our hold, just so he can breathe. We are surprised how
soft it is. “Don't ever shame the blood that flows in you, with your
cowardice.” Angry snarls reach our ears. Snarls for us…for our
words. Hn.

"This Sesshomaru treats you
with hate and ‘lust’.
Such honors are not easy to receive-." He struggles. Astounded eyes opens
in anger, for us…We set him free. At least this time he tries to control
his fall, to no avail though. Eyes flaring with blatant anger, he struggles to
stand up. "-With such hate and lust that has not been quenched, yet. So
remember this Inuyasha, your life is not yours to take. No. Enough years you've
wasted on filthy nigens. You will not waste your death on them too."

He snarls, looking up with
defiance in his eyes….eyes almost the same like before…

We move. We straddle him. We are
too fast for him to react. Our anger has almost dissipated, our lust is flaring
again. "Instinct-" We hiss when he tries to swipe at us with both of
his claws. We subdue him with one. "-No, not enough. Drown us in your
rile, in your revulsion."

We press our thighs against his. Make
him feel us, in the wake of this lust that burns through us. Hn. The shock and
revolt etched in his face, we smile. It amused us like none had before.
"You will not abscond from this pitiful existence of yours, no, not until
we ‘have’ you…”
We move our hips and muscle clenches with this delectable, sinful pleasure.

"You sick bast-" He
retorts.

‘Sick bastard’, he
says. Hypocrisy. Is amusing too. "By our hands like you'd wished but not
for those pathetic reasons, you will die when we deem fit that you deserve it."

"You will have reasons to
live, half breed. Till we prove to you what a filthy hanyou you really are,
born from the dissolute womb of a whore…by taking you as one and then
casting you away when we'll have our fill…"

"Shut-UP!-." He barks
those obscenities we’d been aching to hear. Heh.

"Your voice has returned.
Good." We lean down and trail our tongue down the column of his neck to
that pulse he'd so willingly bared for us before. We suckle and he arches up
against us. Arms over his head held by us, subdued, growls and sneers
contorting his face, the moon makes him almost surreal, and our lust, almost,
almost…. Someday, someday we will
have him all. Not now. Someday, when he is strong. Strong enough to fight
against us.

We gash him with our fangs as we
rub against his naked thigh. We can feel it trembling like ours, against us,
but for different reasons. Leaving hard nips against his neck and chest, we
observe our marks and sigh in satisfaction. He cries and we take it all in,
inside us, we breathe in his cry of pain. His pain is ours to take and relish.
We have embedded those small wounds with our poison, not fatal enough to kill,
but more than enough to leave mark. His lips cry bloody tears and we lick it
all and shudder. Our scent will not be easily removed either…Our marks.

He struggles. Futile attempts to
break free. We smell anger more than fear. Hn. "Don't worry pup", we purr.
We are drowning in his anger and savoring its taste. "We won't take you
now. You are already half dead. We don't hunt the wounded. Such acts are
beneath us." Inert. He is
listening to us, now. Good. We can tell that he heeds every word we say. Hn.

"Collect your strength. We
will give you time. Then run or hide, nevertheless we will be there, in
the wake of your steps. Two full moons, Inuyasha. Be sure to be alive, till then. We abhor
to waste tensaiga's powers on you. However, we will not hesitate, even if it
comes to that."

Our fangs ghost upon his lips.
His mouth contorts into a snarl. We lick him, drag our tongue against his
fangs. We taste, truly taste the dead on him." If you even have just the essence of the blood that your pitiful
existence claims to be same as ours, you will live…" We taste him one last time.

“Die now so to prove that
you are born of a nigen whore…" We dip our tongue in the hollow of
his throat. He is breathing deep and shallow. "…or die for dead,
rotting ones." His eyes are almost red. Heh. “Or else, live to fight
against us.”

We stand up to leave him, lying
down on the ground. "Make us proud" We smile when he threatens us
with growls. "Make us proud before we kill you, pup."

Turning our back to him, promises
we lay awake in our departing steps, “Two moons, two full
moons…" He does not even bother to retort. His snarls are answers,
enough. That's the thrill of this all. He will never bow down. He will not kill
himself. WE know that. We have seen it in his eyes. Two full moons…

Two full moons we await…then
he will be ours. Ours!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A/N: Yea, a very long chapter.
But I am not that satisfied with this
one. Tell me if you guys liked it or not…. And I’d thought that
I’d get some flames for playing with the dead…hehe. R&R, allrite?
Flames too if u want (shrugs)…and yea, I am brushing my skills to write
some good hard ‘literature smut’ so u guys don’t worry…cuz
it seems in this AFF world smut counts a lot…hehe. Thanks For Reading.
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In Crimson Blood