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27 June 2008 @ 12:21 am
TITLE: Rag Doll
FANDOM: Naruto
AUTHOR: Me and ivorylips
SUMMARY: Sasori won't let beautiful things die. He will torture and tear apart and fuck them into a coma, but he won't let them die.
NOTES: When I say graphic? I fuckin' mean it. NOT for the weak stomach'd, at ALL. This is 4500 words of sexsexsex and don't forget the VIOLENCE, baby. And lots of violence and gore and just-- It's one step up from necro, I swear :|

(Sasori is a violent being. Always has been, always will be, and he picks apart whoever he deems to have the right Type until they're absolutely torn to pieces and the skin is gone and the organs are gone and it's all replaced and recreated. Nobody but probably Deidara, at best, knows this. But Deidara is dead, and so it doesn't matter. Deidara has been dead for some time.) Itachi is different, though. Itachi is here. Breathing, but Sasori knows that everything hurts him, he can't escape the pain because Sasori won't let him. Sasori, who injected Itachi will all sorts of drugs to make sure he could feel everything and not be able to escape it, because that is one of the greatest rewards.

To feel.

(Sasori's nerves are so shot from his self-testing at this point that he either feels so much at once it kills him or he feels nothing whatsoever, and there is no middle ground between these things. Not ever.) Drills, plugged into walls, set carefully on wheeled tables which carry his supplies - Sasori does not have any remorse, not at all, and he never will. (Itachi, who he has nailed into the operating table. Stigmata through Itachi's hands and feet, nailed well into the table- if Itachi wanted to tear himself away from them, he would likely lose about half of his feet and his full hands, and Sasori knows Itachi is far too narcissistic for such a thing, far too much so.)

Itachi is bleeding.

(Itachi is bleeding a lot, but it is a precise amount in Sasori's mind, because he knows when the clotting will begin, the exact moment coinciding with the drugs- Sasori knows. Not because he is brilliant - though, of course, he so blatantly is - but because he's tested and tested, waiting and ready for this. Sasori tests everything time and time to make sure flaws don't exist. It is how he is.) Sitting on Itachi's groin, latex gloves wrapped tightly around his hands, surgical mask on his face, doctor's uniform covering his skin, and Itachi is naked because it is easier to operate in such a fashion, always has been. He reaches forward, with both hands, at each ear and stroking down until they come together and move further, down to where he sits.

"Y-Shaped incision."

(Itachi can't see him smiling, underneath the mask.) "Depending on how much I learn from you says whether or not the autopsy is given after you are dead." (Smiling, like a maniac, god Sasori is a maniac.) "But you should have been able to deduce this. I think highly of what exists within your skull."

Itachi, who has been there for exactly twenty-three minutes and forty-five seconds (this was all done voluntarily. Everything. Itachi had even helped Sasori in tightening the shackles that keeps his wrists painfully squeezed by sharp metal scratchingscratching at his flesh. And compared to things that have been done and will be done and that is currently being done to him, the scratchingscratching is just like a very sharp piece of flimsy plastic that is being drawn back and forth by some snot-nosed brat.) bites the inside of his bottom lip enough to make it bleed as if he's not bleeding enough. (The curious nature in Uchiha Itachi is his fascination with his own pain. To feel absolutely anything and everything there is to feel.

Pain turns to pleasure.

Pleasure turns into pain.

Rinse and repeat.)

Morbidly obsessed with this game that Sasori has played for monthsandmonths, Itachi has not gotten used to this drug and this pain simply because he does not want to and never will. (No doubt, Sasori's drugs are most of what causes this- tightening his nerve cells just enough so that everything he does is amplified and not to a degree that he would pass out from.) He is so like the embodied Uchiha clan. Narcissistic enough to stare up into the reflection of his own eyes- black and empty (SasukeisgoneSasukeisGoneGoneGone)- and get aroused by the slightest trickle of blood running down from his hands and his lips and anywhere Sasori touches. (Because Sasori is a sadistic god who knows how Itachi ticks unlike Shisui knew how Itachi ticked. Sasori knows where to hurt him and where to apply that beautiful pressure that makes Itachi scream and moan like a whore.)

The beauty is in the blood.

Sasori grins.

(Shifts himself backwards, positions, and Itachi can't see much of him besides his eyes, which are amber and without any amount of emotion, interest, but his smile. Sasori always smiles around Itachi, has been for several months, ever since he thought it best to take him away. The Uchiha family are dead. Sasori broke Itachi out of prison. Sasuke killed himself. Madara is gone. Everything eventually found itself going out of plan, out of sync and Sasori has no empathy or regret about it because those were all Itachi's plans. Itachi's plans, which are ruined, and he loved it - laps it up like a fucking harlot, because Sasori is an entity of pain. The greatest delivery that could ever be given.) Sasori, who has aged many years but looks far younger than Itachi does, and always will.

(Sasori's cells can't grow. Everything is stunted. Everything is stunted, and it makes him so impossible, as a concept. Because that is what he must be. Sasori is too fantastic to be real. Too horribly fake and prosthetic and perfect in every fashion, it can't be real. Not at all.) Pushes himself down, onto Itachi's cock (-the Uchiha had been up ever since Sasori walked in the room, so trained at this point, so recessive to the pain. That was Sasori's purpose. To torture Itachi forever. This room is Hell, in and of itself, and Itachi is always taken from it when Sasori is done bleeding him out, opening his chest and readjusting whatever is inside, sewing him back up - and when Itachi is brought back in, all of the blood from the floors is gone. Nothing is stained.

Everything is a canvas, ready to begin anew.)

Sasori's nerves are on fire, right now. (One or the other. Aphrodisiac or numbness.) Pushes Itachi all the way inside of him, deeply deeply, but he makes no noise because he isn't that type. He never has been. Waits until the burn is great, until his nerves are even more inflamed and everything is even more so than it was before he moves up and slams back down, on him, almost restlessly. (Itachi has no scars. Sasori removes them all, because Itachi must be a clean canvas every single time. Itachi has no scars, but he has been cut thousands of times because Sasori is a sadistic thing that exists to destroy.)

Sits on hum, burrowing his cock deeper into himself before he takes the tray of instruments closer to himself, inspecting things. (It all has to do with what hurts the most. What Sasori will learn, understand further. (This has very little to do with Itachi. And everything to do with himself.)

So in essence, their symbiosis would be Mutualism and Parasitism but never Commensalism. (Because commensalism requires one of the party gaining something and the other not being affected at all, or very little. Instead, they both gain something, and one of the party members is harming the host, taking away from nutrients. The Mutual Parasites, if it was to be a band-name. But they do not find it strange, that both benefit and one is harmed.

After all, this is what Sasori wants and this is what Itachi wants and so who gives a fuck if Itachi is bleeding in a constant stream, crimson lies running down the metal; it doesn't ever run in a straight line but it's not as thin as water to run ridiculously curvy.) After Sasuke died, there was no point anymore. No point to kill himself and no point to keep living. The Sickness would eventually kill him in some run-down pub bathroom while staring into a broken mirror and no one would care. The only recognition there would ever be would (maybe) be an obituary stating that he was the last of the Uchiha clan. (After Sasuke died, Itachi spiraled. That's how he got the reason to make gashes all over his prettypretty body. That's how he got the reason to drown in pain- because he couldn't concentrate on anything besides the pain if he made it hurt as bad as he meant it to. Was almost about to go for lye after a bath and then stand in the shower until he could hear himself screaming. And Itachi had never screamed before Sasori.

His deliverer.
His savior.

If Itachi wasn't so hell-bent on destroying all idols of religion, he would have thought Sasori was an angel sent down from wherever. He gave his body up in exchange for the intensity of pain so excruciating and blood so thick that he had no control over whether or not he was going to scream. It was already apparent. Screamingscreaming inside his head. He could hear it so loudly. But Sasori was never the one for screamers, and Itachi had never screamed audibly. So it was and always had been a win-win situation. Sasori gets his research and Itachi has his salvation.)

Eyes flutter back into the mirror above him as he watches in his morbidocity that is Sasori Fucking Him While He Is BleedingBleedingBleeding. Swallows his own. (It tastes like copper. Itachi has never been the one to taste blood and like it.) Smirks just so he can hope to amuse himself with his own PainPleasure and he lets Sasori ride him because he is absolutely in love with this pain Sasori brings with him every time they do this. (Itachi has been there for five months, fourteen days, seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and sixteen seconds. And has loved-


Sasori clenches down, tightly, on Itachi's cock, moves himself up and moves himself back down, and thus the entire time is he watching his nonreactance in the reflection of the scalpel which is held cleanly in his surgeon's hands, watching his eyes not-contort and his throat not-contract. (His skin not-sweat, but Sasori absolutely never sweats because his body's fluid reserve has been contorted to the fashion in which he wants it to be. Perfect hydration, at all times. Everything is extremely controlled, every part of him under his own lock and key. The ultimate prosthetic, and so many have died for him to be like this. So many will continue to.)

Moves himself back up, and-

(Positions the blade as he clamps his muscles down around Itachi, again.) Positions it at a point at his shoulder and digs it in deep, without warning, grinding himself down onto Itachi (deeply, onto his prostate- He almost could have gasped a little that time. Almost.) and dragging it harshly and slowly across, horizontal line from one shoulder to the next, and there it all is. (All of it, which does not hesitate and create tiny little bubbles of collected blood between immediate clots like Sasuke's hesitation cuts did, nothing like those- it all spills without warning, with plenty of warning, because Itachi's heart is still beating, and if the blood is not coagulated, it will always spill something terrible when the skin is severed. The body is an elaborate thing, and Sasori knows all of its secrets, all of its details.)

Drags the blade deeply back through the wound, ripping through nerves and muscles both carefully and ruthlessly before stopping dead center, dragging the blade down again for another cut, vertical and as far down as it can go before Sasori's body is in the way. (His young, childish figure, will always be wonderfully young and will never have to age because he will never have to age.) The first step to Eternal life is that you have to die. (Sasori knows that well. He kills himself often, kills himself repeatedly, rids himself of everything he loves so that he may be reborn again and again. All of his art, all of his destructees- New Years he will leave here too, and will both have never existed and exist forever. The remains of all he's ever done will be here, but not him.

New life.
Eternal life.)

He grinds down. (Fingers the wounds, a T shaped incision, one very helpful in post mortems, but Sasori isn't going to kill Itachi, not today. He just so desperately wants to-) clenches (-look inside, again.)

Sex with Itachi is not sex with Deidara, who is wild and screams. Sex with Sasori is not like sex with Shisui, who's skin glows in the moonlight. (Itachi has never seen Sasori outside of this chamber without any clothes on, and certainly hasn't seen Sasori's skin in the glow of the fucking moon of all things. There has alwaysalways been florescent lights on and a scalpel cutting Itachi up.) But the feeling of the blade running from shoulder to shoulder feels like a very clean paper-cut- so it stings just a little bit. It's when Sasori starts screwing with him that brings out more blood than the initial cut. (He's bleeding all over the place- all over the fucking place.

Itachi watches every bit of it from that mirror that is permanently bolted onto the ceiling.)

They don't kiss. They never have kissed. There is no reason, no gain from kissing. (Things deemed useless should be thrown away or burned, if even that.) And Itachi has never been re-born. Only re-scarred. Itachi will only die once when Sasori dies every day. Though it is undetermined whether or not Sasori will allow Itachi to die on his own accord (his own Sickness) or by his own hand, it has not been determined though Itachi's drugged mind- drugged senses.

(Throws his head back and pretends to make the sound that never emits-) Itachi cannot trust anything that he hears or sees anymore. So it can never be known what he hears is real or fake. The only thing he can ever be sure of is this pain. (-while the blade is draggeddragged to the bottom of his belly. Blood spills over the sides of his body and for a minute he looses himself in this imaginary sea of red. Being fucked by Sasori and cut up by him too. There has to be blood getting on his cock and there has to be some sort of Fucking With Blood! going on. Just because it turns Itachi on like nothing else.)

Deidara once asked why Sasori so very much intended to make Deidara suffer so much.

(Sasori was on his back at the time, watching Deidara out of apathetic eyes while the younger of them moved fastfastfast, pushed him in deepdeepdeep, threw his head back and was wild, so blatant in the way he enjoyed it, so much, and Sasori would only enjoy it when he got to the point wherein he'd get to take a limb from Deidara, feed it to Zetsu, and then replace what he'd taken with prosthetic parts. Sasori's answer to Deidara's question was simple, made so much sense to him and in his own demented mind that it honestly made Deidara uncomfortable, not for the content of the answer, but because he was so genuinely sure-)

Grinds down on him, clenchclenchclench- Itachi has never seen Sasori with all of his clothes off, and it doesn't matter. (Sasori has seen all of Itachi. Every vessel, every cell, every bone- Sasori has seen every bit of it the way Shisui used to know every bit of it, but Shisui is dead. Itachi is responsible for this.) Brushes his latex covered fingers across the wounds before, without warning, pressing into them, pulling them apart wider and letting the blood gush, because Itachi won't die- Sasori has his body just as controlled as he has his own. (Pulls the skin, rips the nerves, tearteartears it apart, just because he wants to, just because he can.)

Moves up and down, faster now, deeper, tearing open the vertical incision with just tiny bits of his strength, because if he wanted Itachi to bleed more, he could do so. (He could rip open Itachi's chest cavity with his bare hands and tear out everything inside, if he so pleased, but he doesn't. Itachi is of more use alive than he ever will be dead.)

Uchiha skin will always look better with blood splattered all over their prettypretty bodies. It's just natural for them. To bleed. To die. (Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the prettiest of them all?) Itachi is rolling his hips into Sasori's motions, matching everything perfectly and it causes the blood to flow in different directions and puddling on the flesh of his abdomen, being pulled by the magnetic properties of the liquid. But he doesn't arch to where Sasori- (Shisui, Sasuke, what's the difference by now in names? They all begin with the letter 'S' and every single one of them has three characters in their name.)- is fucking him. He arches to the will of the blade and to the will of Sasori's magic-fingers.

He's ripped apart from the inside just as Sasori is being ripped apart from the inside. And there are too many nerve cells to just touch one at a time. So synapses are passed from cell to cell, passing on this chemical message of, 'Holy fuck, we're being screwed and hurt at the same time!' Screamingscreaming and what does Itachi do?

He (pretends to) moans.
He (pretends to) screams.


Sasori is Itachi's savior in more than one ways.

Sasori, who jerks his body up, rolls his hips in deeply when he jerks back down, holding his scalpel in his fist as he tears the wounds open violently with his fingers, apartapartapart, slashes all over, all through them, digs the blade in and rips through nerves, though everything, moving his hips up and down as he goes, upanddown. (Grabs Itachi's throat, abruptly, moves his grip up to his mouth and opens it more, much more, leaning himself forward to where he's almost laying on him and he's close enough to see inside of him, his tongue and teeth and roof of the mouth, and he smiles wildly underneath the surgical mask, wildwild because Sasori is so crazy-)

Twists the scalpel in his hand to where it's clamped vertically and stabs it through Itachi's bottom gum, stabs it through to the other side and raggedly rips to the left, pushing up the blade to force Itachi's teeth out of his skull from the root. (Through all the nerves and all the joints and ripsripsrips, tears a few out with his fingers, tears them from the strings of nerve and flesh and pockets them, calmly, but he's not calm- Sasori has never been more aroused in his life, not ever. Not even when he killed Deidara.) Saws through Itachi's gums with the tiny, delicate little blade, and he could have used something more appropriate but instead (-rips them out, two or three at a time, ruthless ruthless, but Sasori will give them back to Itachi eventually, reattach them and maybe restore some of their functions, if he's in a good mood, but for now he watches the blood gurgle, boiling in Itachi's mouth like a fucking-)

Sasori can't stop smiling.

(Drives the blade through the top of Itachi's tongue, straight through, and digs it into the jaw beneath, deepdeepdeep until he rips it out and sits back up and-)

Grinds down.

Thrusts up.

(This isn't the first time Sasori has done this. He has taken everything physically possible away from Itachi and re-attached it all back together. Itachi is the Mr. Potato Head of Sasori's Demented Toy-Box of Pain and Pleasure©®. And every waking moment is spent in this.) Itachi loved this. He lives for it and he dies for this. Every waking moment. Every dying moment. Every second of pain and blood and falls out of Itachi's mouth because he's swallowed too much of it and he is thrusting like crazy because he is so turned on. So he moans from beneath the bubbling blood that mixes with the metallic taste of Sasori's scalpel (blood doesn't taste like sanitized metal does.)

Painpainpain. (Itachi cannot possibly concentrate on anything but the feeling of being ripped to literal pieces and it's mixed with-) Sexsexsex. (-Sasori's body that he's forced Itachi to bury himself in. He does not argue against it and he loves this feeling no matter what, constantly thinking of-) Nothingnothingnothing in the world could get him off of this self-induced intoxication by accepting (-blood. Pain. Being ripped from the inside out. Everything is real and concrete and amplified by Sasori's drugs and Sasori's body that Sasori fucks him with.) his own hurt and turning it into something that causes his brain-wires to freak the fuck out.

Sasori knows this.
Because Itachi knows this.

And Itachi doesn't know anything at this point.
But Sasori knows absolutely everything physically and mentally capable of knowing.

(Sasori does not function on hate.
Itachi does not function on anything but what Sasori allows him to focus on.)

The world is turned to mush and no one gives a flying fuck because as far as Itachi is concerned, there is no world outside of these four walls. His world is his twisted games of blood and pain that he encases around himself so much that it no longer hurts. His pain breaths and there's a name to it. (SasukeShisuiSasukeSasukeSasori) So he adores every inch of it and every lasting second of it and does not give a flying fuck about that world out there. That is not his world.

This is.

(Thrusts up. He's close.)

And then there it is.

(The noise. Sasori's been waiting for this moment, the climax of the torture, and Itachi gets to watch it from the mirror that has been installed into the ceiling, above them. Itachi can see everything, all of it, all the time, no matter where he looks- there are mirrors everywhere, different angles and reflections because the Uchiha eyesight has always been the pride of the family, but not for Itachi. It was a curse for Itachi, and Sasori knows this.) The noise, which is a whirr of spinning metal, electricity powering it from where it's plugged into the opposing wall, and Sasori, instead of leaning forward, simply grabs Itachi's hair, yanks him forward against the nails, face to face enough for him to continue fucking himself on Itachi's cock as he -

(The drill is screaming.)

- into his left eye. (Does it slowly, at first, lets it tear through the tissues at the surfaces, tear through the precious eyes of his until it becomes far too much for Sasori to bear, seeing such pain and so much blood that he drills it in harder, deeper, the noise of the metal tearing through the gelatin of Itachi's beautiful eye, reducing it to bits and pieces and there's not much left as he moves it around, changes the position of the tool to point to the left and into bone before twisting to the right and into Itachi's nose, straight through it, and the only reason Sasori leaves the right one entirely in-tact is so that Itachi can see it.

All of it.)

Sasori will repair Itachi's left eye.
Create a duplicate with indentical physical features.

(-rides him hard, and he's close too, close enough to almost gasp, but of course-) It all more or less depends on Sasori's mood as to whether he'll repair it into the next-to-destroyed nerve systems. (Finishes, hard, without noise, and the only way you could have known he even did would be the way his body clenched tighttighttootight before he relaxed, very minutely, and lifts himself off of Itachi, sitting further on his stomach, which is covered in Itachi's blood, Itachi's everything, because Sasori is so cruel.) Stares into Itachi's mangled eye, moving the drill from his face to his hand, into his (ringfinger. How appropriate) and drilling though it until the jeering rejection of the metal table beneath it clanks an annoyingly painful sound and Itachi is focusing on two things at once. (So close so close fuck the pain.

later on when he's not-) moaning. His entire body feels alive and his heart pumps blood faster and faster because of his Itachi fucks the pain away until he finally comes, mixing his orgasm with the wonderfulwonderful feeling of his ringfinger getting torn to shreds. His face is covered in blood and he sees nothing but red and what he can see underneath red is his reflection getting mutilated by Sasori. He enjoys every second of it and finds himself feeling lucky that he has the opportunity to watch his own torture. But that thought comes muchmuch adrenaline run. So everything gushes out into a solid-color mess that has Itachi writhing on the operation table. (Psychopath.)

Pain pleasure pain pleasure SasukeSasukeShisuiSasuke Everything is frantic and mad so nothing exists anymore and nothing will ever continue to exist ever again These are Itachi's Thoughts as he would try to remember them but they are not anything but garbled frantic screaming and moaning ShisuiShisuiSasukeShisui Everything is nothing except these moments where he is torn apart by Sasori's Hand that he would love to just stick inside him and pull out his heart and squeeze it as hard as he liked Itachi wanted pain Itachi wanted his pain because there was a distinct feel to it that reminded him of Sasuke-Shisui and Shisui-Sasuke so much that it made him go crazy everytime he imagined pain being them Because in his mind they were and always will be until the day he dies.

(Itachi goes crazy with feeling.)

Sasori chuckles.

(Lets his hand move behind him from where Itachi's cum soaked his cock, touching it to make precisely sure it is there and-) "I needed this." Takes a small beaker from the tray and drags it along his cock, gathering what was there. "For what will be." Turns and pushes himself off of Itachi and lands gracefully on his feet, like a cat, screwing the beaker shut and pocketing it along with the eight of Itachi's teeth he'd ripped out.

(The first step to Eternal life is that you have to die.

The second step to Eternal life is that you have to create.

And - inevitably - destroy.)

"Use can always be made of great things, even at its most pathetic state."
Current Mood: accomplished
(Deleted comment)
they tell her that she's uncool.darkestwaters on June 27th, 2008 10:13 am (UTC)
←we like to tango.: ::Sex::tango_of_doom on June 27th, 2008 05:32 am (UTC)


Tayuya. WITH LIGHTNING. REAL LIGHTNING.: →screamms_superfuck on June 27th, 2008 10:10 am (UTC)
(Deleted comment)
they tell her that she's uncool.: fashion - dolldarkestwaters on June 27th, 2008 10:12 am (UTC)
shjbhafsdfn ;A; This comment made me feel lovely inside. You're probably gonna one of the few who call it beautiful though xD I don't know a lot of people who can appreciate fics with graphic maiming, alas. But it really is my thing >>

Thank you so much ♥
00_atem_00master_atem on June 27th, 2008 10:44 am (UTC)
Omg. Do want more of this pairing. I'll give a more-sense comment when I get home XD *can't read this right now xD*
Aren't you a little short for a storm trooper?: MOTHER FUCKING SNAKESchronophobe on June 27th, 2008 03:08 pm (UTC)

I find listening to ABBA while reading this makes it more awesome.

(Srsly. Abba - Lay All Your Love On Me. Try it.)
Kayori Matayokii [Krystina F.]: *O* <33kayori_chan on September 8th, 2008 01:32 am (UTC)
OH. MY. GOD. *orgasms*

This was AMAZING~! Kudos to you x10! =DD
CraveCataclysmxcravecatalysmx on November 16th, 2009 11:22 am (UTC)
Holy flying fuck.
I think I'm in love. <3
(Anonymous) on July 23rd, 2010 05:43 pm (UTC)
Oh my god, why did I read this? I feel sick. And pretty shellshocked. Actually, I know why. Sadistic, psychotic Sasori turns me on like nothing else (which is weird because normally this sort of thing does nothing for me). A lot of fics overlook that part of him, and treat the fact that the thing he enjoys most is dismembering corpses and turning them into war machines as an insignificant detail. As for Itachi, his canon characterization is so inconsistent you can pretty much do anything with him. So pliable. The eye drilling and the tooth removal made me wince so much.

You do make some English mistakes and occasionally lose track of where your brackets are going. It got a little repetitive at times, especially with the dramatic single sentences.

My favourite bits:
1. Remaking Itachi every time as a fresh canvas. Yet at the same time whether Sasori will make him function properly is entirely dependent on his whims.
2. What Sasori does to Deidara. For every pleasure, he loses a part of himself that would enable him to feel that pleasure. Yet you know he would do it anyway, for that one moment. Every time he does it, he is becoming something else, becoming Sasori's.
3. What Sasori does to himself, and his philosophy on eternal life.
4. Sasori collecting Itachi's come at the end. Itachi's saying fuck Uchiha and everything they stand for, and Sasori's making more of them! He'll have puppets with Sharingan and so many beautiful toys to play with... Orochimaru will be so jealous. Nnngh, Sasori, you're so evil.