Life With the Kill Cult
Words: 1452
Characters: Hidan, the OC leader of the Jashinist cult, and Kakuzu
Rating: R
Warnings: Warning for mentions of sex and for murder...and for coarse language. It's Hidan.
Summary: Brain-vomit character development for Hidan and the Jashinst cult, with a short exchange between Hidan and Kakuzu at the end.
He never spoke much of the inner workings of the Jashin cult- the leader having forbidden any communication on such secrets with outsiders. Heathens. Hidan was even reluctant to reveal much of what he knew to Kakuzu- not that the older man had ever much asked other than complaining about the rituals and the prayers- but Hidan had always resolved that, even if Pain asked, he would never let anything out. Sometimes, having little respect for anyone else meant that you didn't care about keeping secrets from them.
He arrived at the cult when he was but sixteen, the blood of the villagers he grew up next to still fresh on his hands. There was no guilt on his journey to find his people, only a deep longing, a knowing that he had finally discovered where he belonged. He found them in a large cavern, fires arranged around a communal sleeping area. The guards had barely let the boy pass, vowing that if he were to try to leave, they would simply kill him. That was, after all, the way of it- people were allowed to enter, but forbidden to leave. He had arrived right as they were packing up their meager belongings and preparing to relocate again. He had followed them for what seemed like ages, chasing down rumors of slaughters, and he stood there, watching the robed strangers brush past him. He had come here looking for something, and he had finally found it. It would be days before he was allowed to speak with any of the officers, and yet, he followed them, slipping in among the lower-ranking members and walking as they did toward their next destination- a ghost village in the mountains. It was only there that they spoke with him, the elder members welcoming him as easily as if he were one of their own.
A month would pass, and Hidan proved himself by assisting in the slaughter of a nearby village. It was only then that the leader spoke to him, though Hidan had seen the heavily-robed figure many times before. It was strange for him, but in a way, he felt some pull toward the man who would smile and easily kiss the foreheads of the other members after they had completed a mission. He would clap his hands together as they all ate, and he would offer them the words of Jashin, while reminding them of their sacred duty to their god. Members of the cult bowed their heads when he approached and reverently called him "Daichi-sama". He would smile, patting them on the shoulder or the face. He seemed amused, at first, by the young Hidan- how easily he met Daichi's eyes or how Hidan simply called him by his name. Their first discussion was short, Daichi praising how quickly and ruthlessly Hidan had killed heathens, and how quickly he had learned the sacred jutsu. He called him "my son", and Hidan felt something there that he had felt for the first time in his life- pride.
It was only a a few weeks after that when the leader called on him again and took him to bed this time. Sex among the cult members was anything but uncommon, and it was rarely anything but a violent affair. It was never about love but about domination, a fight to control someone else even for a few moments, and bruises and wounds were sometimes the payment for a night together. Hidan fought that first time, not because he was honestly resisting, but because he knew he should. It became a sport- to see how long he could last in close combat against Daichi, who was a skilled fighter in his own right. There was only a brief struggle before Hidan, who had never been a cautious fighter, found himself swallowed by Daichi's genjutsu. That was the first time he had ever experienced his own mind being ripped away, and the intense pain that came with it. Daichi took him then, and Hidan woke early the next morning to start his rituals as normal.
That was how life went- moving, frequently relocating and slaughtering nearby villages, praises when he returned, and a fellow cult member in his bed. Sometimes men, sometimes women- it didn't matter.
Years had passed like this before there were whisperings of a new jutsu- once that could make the user able to withstand any wounds and survive. Five young men were chosen from among the cult, and only one survived the process. Hidan was blessed, consecrated in the eyes of Daichi. There was only one thing- he had to test this new ability to be sure that it worked.
A young girl was chosen from a nearby village- kidnapped and dragged back to the cave they had made their home in. Hidan felt nothing as he watched her being tied up, as he watched her cry and struggle. One life was insignificant, but if one could be sacrificed in the name of Jashin...then that life meant something. It had value. He was not afraid as he cut her cheek, licking the sweet blood from her skin as she sobbed and struggled against the ropes that bound her. He drew the sacred symbol on the ground, and with Daichi and the rest of the cult watching, he succeeded where the others chosen for this jutsu had failed- he started first by cutting his leg, laughing as he did. There was something different about this pain, and he had to brace himself against the waves of ecstasy that followed when he drove the dagger into his thigh. He was bleeding, but so was the girl, and he was panting as his eyes rolled back in his head. It was time for the final test- he drove the dagger into his chest. He couldn't keep on his feet, dropping to his knees as his head lolled back and his mouth moved silently in devotations to Jashin. He would either succeed or die- and death didn't frighten him.
But he lived. The little girl's body was buried where she died and covered over with the very dirt that her blood had stained, and the cult moved on, now armed with a living sacred weapon.
And time passed. Hidan was called upon by Daichi, and it was decided that Hidan would be sent to find a group of shinobi such as himself- missing-nin that had banded together. It was without a heavy heart that Hidan was sent out from the cult, and Daichi was confident that Hidan didn't need to be watched anymore- he had so willingly taken to the teachings of Jashin that he knew there was no danger of Hidan getting into the open world and changing his mind about his faith.
That was only a year before. He had found the missing-nin easily enough- the "Akatsuki", they called themselves. They let him be, and though he didn't much care for the greed of the man he was partnered with, he had to admit that they were a good match.
He was up with the sun, and he sat atop a warming rock, folding his legs underneath him and folding his hands together, the Jashinist necklace he wore intertwined with his fingers. He closed his eyes in the warmth of the morning sun and his lips murmured things that were silent devotions to his god.
"Are you done yet? We have another bounty to collect."
"Tch. Always with the fucking money, isn't it, Kakuzu?" He peeked one eye open and shook his head. The older man simply shrugged, turning and slipping on his robe. Hidan sighed, shaking his head. The bastard could wait until he was done.
Something was thrown at him, and hit him in the back of the head. Hidan set his jaw, opening his eyes and turning around. "Fucking bastard! Don't interrupt me!"
Kakuzu blinked at him once, picking up his bag. "Time to go."
"But I'm not done yet!"
There was silence from the other man before he turned and started to walk away.
"Oi, Kakuzu! Just wait a minute!" He sighed, frustrated, and clambered down from the rock, grabbing his meager belongings- one of which being the bag that was thrown at his head. "Come on, Kakuzu! Stop being such a fucking bastard."
"Stop talking, Hidan, or I will kill you."
"Come on, now, don't talk like that, Kakuzu. You know it pisses me off."
Characters: Hidan, the OC leader of the Jashinist cult, and Kakuzu
Rating: R
Warnings: Warning for mentions of sex and for murder...and for coarse language. It's Hidan.
Summary: Brain-vomit character development for Hidan and the Jashinst cult, with a short exchange between Hidan and Kakuzu at the end.
He never spoke much of the inner workings of the Jashin cult- the leader having forbidden any communication on such secrets with outsiders. Heathens. Hidan was even reluctant to reveal much of what he knew to Kakuzu- not that the older man had ever much asked other than complaining about the rituals and the prayers- but Hidan had always resolved that, even if Pain asked, he would never let anything out. Sometimes, having little respect for anyone else meant that you didn't care about keeping secrets from them.
He arrived at the cult when he was but sixteen, the blood of the villagers he grew up next to still fresh on his hands. There was no guilt on his journey to find his people, only a deep longing, a knowing that he had finally discovered where he belonged. He found them in a large cavern, fires arranged around a communal sleeping area. The guards had barely let the boy pass, vowing that if he were to try to leave, they would simply kill him. That was, after all, the way of it- people were allowed to enter, but forbidden to leave. He had arrived right as they were packing up their meager belongings and preparing to relocate again. He had followed them for what seemed like ages, chasing down rumors of slaughters, and he stood there, watching the robed strangers brush past him. He had come here looking for something, and he had finally found it. It would be days before he was allowed to speak with any of the officers, and yet, he followed them, slipping in among the lower-ranking members and walking as they did toward their next destination- a ghost village in the mountains. It was only there that they spoke with him, the elder members welcoming him as easily as if he were one of their own.
A month would pass, and Hidan proved himself by assisting in the slaughter of a nearby village. It was only then that the leader spoke to him, though Hidan had seen the heavily-robed figure many times before. It was strange for him, but in a way, he felt some pull toward the man who would smile and easily kiss the foreheads of the other members after they had completed a mission. He would clap his hands together as they all ate, and he would offer them the words of Jashin, while reminding them of their sacred duty to their god. Members of the cult bowed their heads when he approached and reverently called him "Daichi-sama". He would smile, patting them on the shoulder or the face. He seemed amused, at first, by the young Hidan- how easily he met Daichi's eyes or how Hidan simply called him by his name. Their first discussion was short, Daichi praising how quickly and ruthlessly Hidan had killed heathens, and how quickly he had learned the sacred jutsu. He called him "my son", and Hidan felt something there that he had felt for the first time in his life- pride.
It was only a a few weeks after that when the leader called on him again and took him to bed this time. Sex among the cult members was anything but uncommon, and it was rarely anything but a violent affair. It was never about love but about domination, a fight to control someone else even for a few moments, and bruises and wounds were sometimes the payment for a night together. Hidan fought that first time, not because he was honestly resisting, but because he knew he should. It became a sport- to see how long he could last in close combat against Daichi, who was a skilled fighter in his own right. There was only a brief struggle before Hidan, who had never been a cautious fighter, found himself swallowed by Daichi's genjutsu. That was the first time he had ever experienced his own mind being ripped away, and the intense pain that came with it. Daichi took him then, and Hidan woke early the next morning to start his rituals as normal.
That was how life went- moving, frequently relocating and slaughtering nearby villages, praises when he returned, and a fellow cult member in his bed. Sometimes men, sometimes women- it didn't matter.
Years had passed like this before there were whisperings of a new jutsu- once that could make the user able to withstand any wounds and survive. Five young men were chosen from among the cult, and only one survived the process. Hidan was blessed, consecrated in the eyes of Daichi. There was only one thing- he had to test this new ability to be sure that it worked.
A young girl was chosen from a nearby village- kidnapped and dragged back to the cave they had made their home in. Hidan felt nothing as he watched her being tied up, as he watched her cry and struggle. One life was insignificant, but if one could be sacrificed in the name of Jashin...then that life meant something. It had value. He was not afraid as he cut her cheek, licking the sweet blood from her skin as she sobbed and struggled against the ropes that bound her. He drew the sacred symbol on the ground, and with Daichi and the rest of the cult watching, he succeeded where the others chosen for this jutsu had failed- he started first by cutting his leg, laughing as he did. There was something different about this pain, and he had to brace himself against the waves of ecstasy that followed when he drove the dagger into his thigh. He was bleeding, but so was the girl, and he was panting as his eyes rolled back in his head. It was time for the final test- he drove the dagger into his chest. He couldn't keep on his feet, dropping to his knees as his head lolled back and his mouth moved silently in devotations to Jashin. He would either succeed or die- and death didn't frighten him.
But he lived. The little girl's body was buried where she died and covered over with the very dirt that her blood had stained, and the cult moved on, now armed with a living sacred weapon.
And time passed. Hidan was called upon by Daichi, and it was decided that Hidan would be sent to find a group of shinobi such as himself- missing-nin that had banded together. It was without a heavy heart that Hidan was sent out from the cult, and Daichi was confident that Hidan didn't need to be watched anymore- he had so willingly taken to the teachings of Jashin that he knew there was no danger of Hidan getting into the open world and changing his mind about his faith.
That was only a year before. He had found the missing-nin easily enough- the "Akatsuki", they called themselves. They let him be, and though he didn't much care for the greed of the man he was partnered with, he had to admit that they were a good match.
He was up with the sun, and he sat atop a warming rock, folding his legs underneath him and folding his hands together, the Jashinist necklace he wore intertwined with his fingers. He closed his eyes in the warmth of the morning sun and his lips murmured things that were silent devotions to his god.
"Are you done yet? We have another bounty to collect."
"Tch. Always with the fucking money, isn't it, Kakuzu?" He peeked one eye open and shook his head. The older man simply shrugged, turning and slipping on his robe. Hidan sighed, shaking his head. The bastard could wait until he was done.
Something was thrown at him, and hit him in the back of the head. Hidan set his jaw, opening his eyes and turning around. "Fucking bastard! Don't interrupt me!"
Kakuzu blinked at him once, picking up his bag. "Time to go."
"But I'm not done yet!"
There was silence from the other man before he turned and started to walk away.
"Oi, Kakuzu! Just wait a minute!" He sighed, frustrated, and clambered down from the rock, grabbing his meager belongings- one of which being the bag that was thrown at his head. "Come on, Kakuzu! Stop being such a fucking bastard."
"Stop talking, Hidan, or I will kill you."
"Come on, now, don't talk like that, Kakuzu. You know it pisses me off."