Empty Cradles – Part 2

A/N: Wow, this took me a long time to write. Much longer than it probably should have, considering how I've had a lot of this material prepared for a while; I just hadn't pieced it all together properly. So anyway, here's your obligatory moral message: paedophilia is wrong, kids. Rape is wrong, kids. Murder is wrong, kids. Genocide is wrong, kids. Being a member of an international criminal organisation under the command of a complete psycho is bad, kids. And now we have that out of the way, I'll present to you the second and final part of 'Empty Cradles', which means we're getting to the part everyone actually wanted to read: the porn. Yes, we have a lemon. Specifically, a not particularly nice lemon. By that I don't mean badly written; I like to think my writing isn't that crap, but it's not particularly…wholesome. You can make your own moral judgement over whether there was full, proper consent or not, considering what had just happened, but I wrote it. So feel completely free to judge me for being the disgusting sick fuck that I am. Our song of the chapter is 'The Memory' by Mayday Parade. Mostly for the sentiment at the end of the fic. Oh dear. You might want to have a happy kitten or puppy or bunny on standby.

This is thinking/dreaming.

"Anything in italics and quotes is written stuff…kukuku…"

This is regular story.

This is author's note.

This is title

Warnings: Much like last time, we have a huge fucking warning for sex. If you were opposed to the incestuous child molestation in the last chapter, then I suggest you run away very fast because we're getting what you may or may not consider to be worse. We're getting adult/13 year old. Eek. The sex is pretty…random. You might not get it 100% unless you've read 'Buried Alive' or got the very obscure hint from part 1, but basically in return from training, Itachi promises his body to Madara. Who decides to cash in. Very suddenly. At a very bad moment. You can decide whether it counts as rape or prostitution or what, I won't rant about morals. Also, if you find yourself in any situation when you're considering killing yourself, get help. Don't do it. It won't make anything better. And also, no one deserves to get raped. Thinking about doing it and actually doing it are two different things.

Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto and I am in no way affiliated with the brand. Please refrain from suing me.


Walk away

Barely breathing

As I'm lying on the floor

Take my heart

As you're leaving

I don't need it anymore


I had done it.

There wasn't really any way to describe the feeling, knowing that your life had just been cut short. There wasn't really any way to describe the feeling of your blade slicing through the warm flesh of your own mother and father, either. Or to describe the feeling as you looked aside, not caring to watch as the life drained from another pair of dark eyes, not caring whether they were five or fifty years old. They were all the same.

No, they weren't all the same. Each and every one of them had been human beings. And I had killed them.

But I couldn't think like that. If I thought too hard about what I had just done, the walls I had been building for years would collapse. If I thought like that, then I'd have to admit that every target of every mission was a human being, and I'd have committed countless murder. That's what killing is, isn't it?

Murder. Such a dirty, dark word. I didn't like it. Strangely, hysterical giggles pushed to rise from my throat. I crushed them down again before my façade broke.

I wanted to laugh, to scream, to cry, to fall on the ground and scream at the sky and ask why I had to do it, and if there was any point in carrying on anymore. But there was nothing to laugh about, and nothing to scream over. There had been enough screaming. A lot of tears. Some crying. And many, many bodies falling to the ground. There had even been one or two laughs of contrary terror and disbelief that it was me.

Just more bodies to add to the countless pile I had been creating since I was a child. More death and more blood to paint my skin red with. My eyes still glowed with the power I had used so callously to inflict more pain than I ever should have. Showing him, the one person in the world I loved, the death of Mother and Father over and over again for days on end. Making him watch as my blade cut through their bodies, as blood pooled around their fallen corpses, mingling with the blood that already spattered my uniform.

I couldn't have done worse if I had ripped off his clothes and raped him there, over the bodies of our parents. In a sense, I already had.

Nii-chan was gone, dead, and I was all that was left. I couldn't fool myself that somehow, somewhere, maybe in the darkest corner of Sasuke's scarred mind that the beloved older brother figure still existed, just waiting under a shell of darkness to come back with open arms. It was about as likely as our parents rising from the grave.

If they were ever truly buried. I had ensured they would stay in Sasuke's mind forever, lying dead on the floor. The wood would be stained.

Committing gross murder was nothing compared to what I had done to Sasuke. And I couldn't ever take it back or atone. Only in death could I ever hope to be redeemed, and Sasuke had to be the one to kill me.

That thought alone was enough to prevent me from driving my sword into my heart or my throat. I had inflicted enough damage on Sasuke, and the best way to heal would be to exorcise the demon from his past, and I would happily die at his hands. I had no doubt that I would.

It would be revenge for everything that I had done. Not just the murder of our family - his family, I no longer had the right to claim I had a privilege like a family anymore – but for everything. The lies, the deceit, the treachery, and the touching. It would be the only way he could feel clean.

The blood was cold on my face, drying stickily as blatant evidence of what I had done, yet no one stopped me as I walked deathly slowly through the forest.

It was good that I was leaving. If I didn't leave, then Sasuke would be stuck with me forever. He deserved better than me. Without our parents around, I would somehow have managed to convince him that it was normal for brothers to touch like lovers, and that it was perfectly alright for me to take every last fragment of his shattered innocence. I wouldn't have been able to leave him alone until my desires had been filled, until he was wrapped around me and I was deep inside him and he was screaming for me to stop because it hurt and-

No. I would have made him enjoy it, and that would be worse.

So, of course, there was no excuse for my pause. My feet stopped and I lost my balance, leaning sideways until my shoulder connected with the harsh trunk of a tree. The bark cut my skin, but I barely felt it.

I wasn't aware of how long I stood there, leaning against that tree. I could have stayed there for seconds, hours or years. It was irrelevant. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to stop everything. Stop breathing, stop my heart beating, stop my blood flowing. Stop my thoughts flowing through my head.

It would have been so easy to turn around and walk back into Konoha, to find my little brother curled up on the floor, to lift him into my arms and carry him to his bedroom and tuck him in for the last time, to plant one last, horrible kiss on his little lips. But I didn't.

It was against that tree that I found I was not alone.

"So you did it? Good boy," The familiar voice said. I didn't correct him; I was not a 'good boy', but no one corrects Madara. "We're leaving. Konoha's dogs will be on our trail before long, and I fully intend to claim what is mine before the night is through,"

We ran. I pushed myself to be quick enough, though my legs felt like lead and falling down to die or wait for my new enemy to find me seemed much more appealing. I was quick enough. We ran for hours until I lost all sense of direction. But the location wasn't important. I barely noticed when we stopped, pushed against a tree and foreign lips pressed to mine.

It didn't register that it was my first kiss from someone who wasn't my own brother.

The lips were as forceful and demanding as the hands that began to rip and tug at my clothing, stripping it bit by bit from my body until I was naked. I didn't protest, or resist. I didn't have the right to resist, considering I was no better myself. I didn't resist when a hand gripped my jaw to pull my mouth open so his tongue could slip inside, refusing to shut my eyes. I wanted to it all, to experience exactly what I would have done so easily if I had stayed.

It had been long overdue. My body, for training. A fair enough trade, though Madara had made sure to savour every second and wait until now, waiting to claim a prize I had been dangling temptingly before his eyes for too long. It was yet more evidence that I was damaged beyond repair.

Still, no one else would ever want to touch me.

A hand tugged at my pony tail, jerking my head back to gain better access to my mouth. I exhaled sharply at the pain, which he took to be some kind of perverse encouragement, and the kiss became painfully intrusive. My lips felt bruised at the force of contact, from the teeth that would bite down on them at every possible opportunity, just a small amount of pressure away from splitting.

The kiss ended abruptly, and I was turned around to be crushed against the tree. Hard bark pressed patterns into my flesh, flaying a little skin from my cheek. I didn't care. It might have removed some of the blood, which I was grateful for. If I had to cut my own skin off to remove those stains, I'd do it with a blunt kunai.

Of course, that was utterly ridiculous. I could never remove those stains.

I hissed when two dry fingers were roughly shoved inside me. I pressed my cheek harder against the tree, trying to cause myself more pain to distract me from the burning discomfort at the intrusion. I couldn't care less if it scarred. It was better than focusing on the sensation of the digits sharply moving back and forth, scissoring apart in a sorry attempt to stretch me.

My discomfort wasn't taken into account at all. The fingers were withdrawn and wiped off on my side, staining my body in yet another place but in a different way. I couldn't complain about this stain, though. It was completely self-inflicted.

I deserved this. I deserved so much more, for what I had done. I deserved a thousand times more punishment, and I had a feeling this man would attempt to give it all to me. I deserved it for being a murderer and a child molester and for committing matricide and patricide and for wanting to do this to my own little brother and for not stopping the massacre when I could have, somehow. I should have done something, I should have stopped myself, I should have-

A short scream was forced from my lips when he pushed his way inside. My young body wasn't equipped to deal with the intrusion, and he certainly hadn't prepared me anywhere near enough to make it anything less than very painful. I could feel myself tearing, stretching, breaking at the penetration. My whole body shook, forgetting every second of training it had undergone to deal with pain like this. I was equipped for months of torture, for grievous injury, for death, but I wasn't equipped for this.

"Finally, I get a response," Hot breath chuckled in my ear. "I'm so grateful that you saved your virginity for me, Ita-kun. You don't know what it does to me-" He pulled back, withdrawing what felt like miles of hot, hard flesh from my abused entrance. "-to know that I'm the one who gets to strip away that last-" It slammed back in, my fingers scrabbling at the bark for purchase. "-piece-" A nail tore painfully, but it was nothing compared to the burn of pain inside. "-of innocence,"

He kept on thrusting, pushing himself in and out of my body over and over again for what seemed like an eternity. With every thrust, I wanted to let tears that were collecting in my eyes fall, to let the outside world know how much I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. I didn't deserve any better. Everything I had done, everything I was going to do – this was punishment. I could take it like a man, or like a cheap prostitute with legs spread for the next round, or like a child, crying against a tree.

I endured it because I deserved it. It was better that I played Madara's whore than Sasuke played mine, and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself if I had stayed. The knowledge that I was here, being fucked against a tree, was a thousand times better than deceiving my little brother with warped notions of love.

Teeth bit into my neck, mouth relentlessly sucking to leave a mark that would leave me displayed to all the world as used. I didn't care. He could tattoo it onto my forehead and I wouldn't care.

He shuddered twice, pace becoming erratic and impossibly harsher, before groaning almost inaudibly and emptying his seed into me. Marking me again, only on the inside this time. A mark I'd never be able to wash out.

I didn't care, as long as I was gone.

That night, he took me more times than I could remember.

No, that's a lie. He took me four more times, each time filling me with more and more of his seed, reminding me with each shuddering burst that I belonged to him, and I could never escape. I couldn't escape what I had done, and he was the consequence. I could be a puppet and a whore and my death wouldn't mean anything. It would only mean that I was too weak. Being unable to resist, growing to enjoy it, it was all a weakness.

But at least in death, I couldn't hurt Sasuke again.


She is everywhere I go

Everyone I see

But these clouds won't leave


A/N: Wow, that was…horrible. And thus ends your hopefully-not-too-damaging twoshot. I think I'm going to go and lie down in a darkened room now…