Fic
I'm just wondering if there's anything I need to fix in this story.
It's been bothering me for a while, and I just don't know why. Maybe I'm missing something...?
I dunno...
If anybody could give me a helpful pointer or two, I'd be very grateful.
Disclaimer: not mine.
Characters: Itachi, Sasuke and Orochimaru
The prodigy flew back into a tree from the force of the hit he had received. Feeling something crack in protest from the impact, the Sharingan wielder squinted across the burning clearing to stare at the boy trembling before him. He tried to ignore his torn stomach as he staggered back upright-gods, why was it so painful to move?!
He placed a hand on his knee to help himself up, swaying slightly as he blinked some blood out of his eyes. “Sasuke,” he ground out, deciding not to smirk since it hurt do goddamn much, “after all this time…”
The boy’s blurry form swirled around to face him. He distantly noted that red marks, looking as hot as burning embers, slid over the avenger’s body, claiming it as its own. The mere sight of those corrosive marks sent a jealous rage coursing through his broken body; that snake had no right in claiming what was already taken. Mine, he thought dully, this boy is mine.
Focusing once again on the boy swaying before him, he sighed. “You still couldn’t find the strength,” his face softened almost imperceptibly before hardening again, “to kill me.”
The prodigy watched in silence as the boy before him suddenly lost his balance, staggering first to the left, then almost falling to the right as he was consumed by the curse’s dark power. “You,” he continued quietly, slowly walking forwards-a strange-looking gait when he tried to keep his weight off of his right leg-to stop a few paces in front of the tortured creature staring blindly about him.
“…Are still…”
He kicked out with his right leg, savoring the wet crack he heard as Sasuke’s ribs broke from the impact. Slowly lowering his leg back down, he followed shortly after his brother’s staggering body before kicking him across the throat, ignoring the faint throb in his leg as the boy’s head snapped back almost instantly, throwing him up in the air for a brief moment of time. He watched dully as the avenger’s body crumpled to the ground.
“…Weak.”
--
He couldn’t cry out in pain when his brother’s foot smashed his ribs, for the blasted curse had control of him once again. But it didn’t stop him from staggering backwards with the force of the prodigy’s kick.
Hearing those words being uttered by the man he once admired, slowly began to crush his heart as he was consumed by despair. He still wasn’t strong enough for him to be acknowledged, much less-
His mind went blank with pain when another kick connected with the bottom of his chin, snapping his head back and throwing him into the air and onto the ground. Pain was all that he could think of, and the brief moment of weakness he had unintentionally shown offered Orochimaru’s cursed seal the opportunity to fully take him. It almost thrummed as it grew, slowly destroying the last shred of humanity he held onto.
Slowly, he began to go still, arms still moving sluggishly before sliding to a rest beside his body. He could feel himself slipping, and desperately fought to keep a hold of the last bits of reality he knew.
The cursed seal’s appetite had to be sated, after all. It savored the moment before it became impatient, devouring the boy’s soul ravenously.
Sasuke twitched.
He could feel the cursed seal tearing him slowly apart, its black markings spreading like a disease over his bruised flesh. A pained moan bubbled up his throat and past blood-caked lips, growing in volume until it was a wail of despair. He writhed on the ground with the single-minded desperation of a man vying for life, a crimson-stained hand skittering up to clutch at the fiery mark. No--! His mind wailed, long and thin and easily crushed by the evil gluttony of the dark mark controlling him.
And so he did that which he was best at doing-he ran, hiding himself from the corrupting touch of that evil man’s essence as it invaded him. He could feel it warping him, turning all that was left of his humanity-he reached out with the last shreds of his sanity to try and stop them from being sucked away; a useless act of defiance-into something darker. Something infinitely more evil.
Its controlling aura swept through him, surging to the ends of each of his limbs; he had not the energy to cry when he felt it fusing itself with the very fiber and life-steel of his being.
And so he drowned in his sadness, in his failure to stop himself from being burned alive. The knowledge stung him, infinitely so, and he realized-no more was he the person that he once thought he was.
So the snake’s power coiled about his mind, seeping into every crevice and dip of his entire being. Its absolute gluttony disgusted him, and his blatant hatred of it amused it greatly.
You have not the power to go against me, it hissed, the motes of silent sound filtering through his weak defenses and surrounding him, you are truly weak.
Sasuke knew he could do nothing but admit that he was.
Orochimaru’s gloating laugh pulsed throughout him, and he screamed in silent rage and pain when the snake’s power forced him to stand, not caring when the boy’s broken ribs scraped against his innards and broke through skin. You can do nothing, vessel, the voice spoke to him, for I have broken you.
--
The elder Uchiha was almost startled when his otouto staggered upright. But he was Uchiha Itachi, and as an Uchiha, he was never startled. So he stood to the side, staring at the broken, bleeding body with marks spreading across his skin that made the prodigy feel dirty just looking at him, and forced himself not to feel.
He had a vague idea of what was happening in his brother’s shredded soul, and squished the feeling of dark, swelling rage before it even rose.
A cold, dry wind whipped through the clearing, bringing the scent of burnt flesh and freshly-spilt blood to him, which he simply ignored. Itachi didn’t move, and pushed his body’s weakness and pain out of his mind.
He was Uchiha, and Uchihas did not feel.
--
The aura sweeping about him was not his own, he knew. It was too dark, too evil. And the body he was in was not his own as well. It belonged to another.
But the pain he was feeling was his own, and he laughed slightly at the fact that he wished that it was not. But he knew that wishing never helped him on his path to self-destruction. Wishing was useless now, it always was. He just couldn’t help but do it.
--
His chakra was still draining; he could feel its pull, constant as the wind about him. Disengaging from his birthright, red slowly faded to black as he continued to study the brother that was not his, the dark aura fluctuating about his dirtied body. Hollow laughter reached his ears, one torn and bloody, the other flawless as his flesh. The gloating sound annoyed him for some reason, whish both confused and terrified him. But Itachi reminded himself that he was Uchiha, and was not supposed to feel.
The prodigy’s eyesight blurred slightly, and he narrowed his eyes as the boy’s form shifted. “I am in control,” the younger Uchiha’s degrading voice reached him, a hollowness in it that made the prodigy shift uncomfortably, pushing the immediate throbbing pain that blossomed in his leg to the back of his mind.
Then their eyes met: deep ebony orbs that showed no emotion, no matter the conflicting feelings within; and misty-grey eyes, so dark that if you look at them directly they appear almost a shining black. But there was something in those shining black eyes that gave the prodigy pause in his slow approach.
“You are amused…?” He ventured monotonously, watching his brother-beautiful as the night-stand there before him.
Sasuke didn’t move, and the elder Uchiha was not surprised. He continued speaking slowly, edging verbally towards his goal. “After all this time--”
Itachi froze when the avenger’s mouth twitched upwards slightly, and he crushed the slight feeling of dread that had begun to grow in his stomach. The prodigy’s hand drifted to the sheath at his side, quietly cursing when he remembered that his katana had been lost earlier in their fight. Oh well, he smirked slightly, savoring his brother’s thoughtful, demeaning expression. It won’t be that hard to crush him now, anyway.
“He was stubborn, Itachi-kun,” the younger Uchiha’s voice rang out, and Itachi could hear-faintly-the edges of laughter in it. “But now…” Sasuke spread his hands to the sides in a gloating posture, “I have tamed his wild spirit.”
The prodigy’s blood boiled at the implications the snake in his brother was making, and he did not bother to stifle his rage. “You cannot tame Uchiha blood, Orochimaru,” he ground out, Sharingan activating from the force of his desire to crush the sannin standing before him.
“No,” he agreed blithely, his smirk growing, “but you can break them.”
Itachi did not reply; Orochimaru laughed at that. “Yet I don’t need to tell you that, do I?” He placed a slender finger against his lips, an almost coy gesture that made the prodigy’s heart ache for his beloved.
“After all… You have already done so.”
It's been bothering me for a while, and I just don't know why. Maybe I'm missing something...?
I dunno...
If anybody could give me a helpful pointer or two, I'd be very grateful.
Disclaimer: not mine.
Characters: Itachi, Sasuke and Orochimaru
The prodigy flew back into a tree from the force of the hit he had received. Feeling something crack in protest from the impact, the Sharingan wielder squinted across the burning clearing to stare at the boy trembling before him. He tried to ignore his torn stomach as he staggered back upright-gods, why was it so painful to move?!
He placed a hand on his knee to help himself up, swaying slightly as he blinked some blood out of his eyes. “Sasuke,” he ground out, deciding not to smirk since it hurt do goddamn much, “after all this time…”
The boy’s blurry form swirled around to face him. He distantly noted that red marks, looking as hot as burning embers, slid over the avenger’s body, claiming it as its own. The mere sight of those corrosive marks sent a jealous rage coursing through his broken body; that snake had no right in claiming what was already taken. Mine, he thought dully, this boy is mine.
Focusing once again on the boy swaying before him, he sighed. “You still couldn’t find the strength,” his face softened almost imperceptibly before hardening again, “to kill me.”
The prodigy watched in silence as the boy before him suddenly lost his balance, staggering first to the left, then almost falling to the right as he was consumed by the curse’s dark power. “You,” he continued quietly, slowly walking forwards-a strange-looking gait when he tried to keep his weight off of his right leg-to stop a few paces in front of the tortured creature staring blindly about him.
“…Are still…”
He kicked out with his right leg, savoring the wet crack he heard as Sasuke’s ribs broke from the impact. Slowly lowering his leg back down, he followed shortly after his brother’s staggering body before kicking him across the throat, ignoring the faint throb in his leg as the boy’s head snapped back almost instantly, throwing him up in the air for a brief moment of time. He watched dully as the avenger’s body crumpled to the ground.
“…Weak.”
--
He couldn’t cry out in pain when his brother’s foot smashed his ribs, for the blasted curse had control of him once again. But it didn’t stop him from staggering backwards with the force of the prodigy’s kick.
Hearing those words being uttered by the man he once admired, slowly began to crush his heart as he was consumed by despair. He still wasn’t strong enough for him to be acknowledged, much less-
His mind went blank with pain when another kick connected with the bottom of his chin, snapping his head back and throwing him into the air and onto the ground. Pain was all that he could think of, and the brief moment of weakness he had unintentionally shown offered Orochimaru’s cursed seal the opportunity to fully take him. It almost thrummed as it grew, slowly destroying the last shred of humanity he held onto.
Slowly, he began to go still, arms still moving sluggishly before sliding to a rest beside his body. He could feel himself slipping, and desperately fought to keep a hold of the last bits of reality he knew.
The cursed seal’s appetite had to be sated, after all. It savored the moment before it became impatient, devouring the boy’s soul ravenously.
Sasuke twitched.
He could feel the cursed seal tearing him slowly apart, its black markings spreading like a disease over his bruised flesh. A pained moan bubbled up his throat and past blood-caked lips, growing in volume until it was a wail of despair. He writhed on the ground with the single-minded desperation of a man vying for life, a crimson-stained hand skittering up to clutch at the fiery mark. No--! His mind wailed, long and thin and easily crushed by the evil gluttony of the dark mark controlling him.
And so he did that which he was best at doing-he ran, hiding himself from the corrupting touch of that evil man’s essence as it invaded him. He could feel it warping him, turning all that was left of his humanity-he reached out with the last shreds of his sanity to try and stop them from being sucked away; a useless act of defiance-into something darker. Something infinitely more evil.
Its controlling aura swept through him, surging to the ends of each of his limbs; he had not the energy to cry when he felt it fusing itself with the very fiber and life-steel of his being.
And so he drowned in his sadness, in his failure to stop himself from being burned alive. The knowledge stung him, infinitely so, and he realized-no more was he the person that he once thought he was.
So the snake’s power coiled about his mind, seeping into every crevice and dip of his entire being. Its absolute gluttony disgusted him, and his blatant hatred of it amused it greatly.
You have not the power to go against me, it hissed, the motes of silent sound filtering through his weak defenses and surrounding him, you are truly weak.
Sasuke knew he could do nothing but admit that he was.
Orochimaru’s gloating laugh pulsed throughout him, and he screamed in silent rage and pain when the snake’s power forced him to stand, not caring when the boy’s broken ribs scraped against his innards and broke through skin. You can do nothing, vessel, the voice spoke to him, for I have broken you.
--
The elder Uchiha was almost startled when his otouto staggered upright. But he was Uchiha Itachi, and as an Uchiha, he was never startled. So he stood to the side, staring at the broken, bleeding body with marks spreading across his skin that made the prodigy feel dirty just looking at him, and forced himself not to feel.
He had a vague idea of what was happening in his brother’s shredded soul, and squished the feeling of dark, swelling rage before it even rose.
A cold, dry wind whipped through the clearing, bringing the scent of burnt flesh and freshly-spilt blood to him, which he simply ignored. Itachi didn’t move, and pushed his body’s weakness and pain out of his mind.
He was Uchiha, and Uchihas did not feel.
--
The aura sweeping about him was not his own, he knew. It was too dark, too evil. And the body he was in was not his own as well. It belonged to another.
But the pain he was feeling was his own, and he laughed slightly at the fact that he wished that it was not. But he knew that wishing never helped him on his path to self-destruction. Wishing was useless now, it always was. He just couldn’t help but do it.
--
His chakra was still draining; he could feel its pull, constant as the wind about him. Disengaging from his birthright, red slowly faded to black as he continued to study the brother that was not his, the dark aura fluctuating about his dirtied body. Hollow laughter reached his ears, one torn and bloody, the other flawless as his flesh. The gloating sound annoyed him for some reason, whish both confused and terrified him. But Itachi reminded himself that he was Uchiha, and was not supposed to feel.
The prodigy’s eyesight blurred slightly, and he narrowed his eyes as the boy’s form shifted. “I am in control,” the younger Uchiha’s degrading voice reached him, a hollowness in it that made the prodigy shift uncomfortably, pushing the immediate throbbing pain that blossomed in his leg to the back of his mind.
Then their eyes met: deep ebony orbs that showed no emotion, no matter the conflicting feelings within; and misty-grey eyes, so dark that if you look at them directly they appear almost a shining black. But there was something in those shining black eyes that gave the prodigy pause in his slow approach.
“You are amused…?” He ventured monotonously, watching his brother-beautiful as the night-stand there before him.
Sasuke didn’t move, and the elder Uchiha was not surprised. He continued speaking slowly, edging verbally towards his goal. “After all this time--”
Itachi froze when the avenger’s mouth twitched upwards slightly, and he crushed the slight feeling of dread that had begun to grow in his stomach. The prodigy’s hand drifted to the sheath at his side, quietly cursing when he remembered that his katana had been lost earlier in their fight. Oh well, he smirked slightly, savoring his brother’s thoughtful, demeaning expression. It won’t be that hard to crush him now, anyway.
“He was stubborn, Itachi-kun,” the younger Uchiha’s voice rang out, and Itachi could hear-faintly-the edges of laughter in it. “But now…” Sasuke spread his hands to the sides in a gloating posture, “I have tamed his wild spirit.”
The prodigy’s blood boiled at the implications the snake in his brother was making, and he did not bother to stifle his rage. “You cannot tame Uchiha blood, Orochimaru,” he ground out, Sharingan activating from the force of his desire to crush the sannin standing before him.
“No,” he agreed blithely, his smirk growing, “but you can break them.”
Itachi did not reply; Orochimaru laughed at that. “Yet I don’t need to tell you that, do I?” He placed a slender finger against his lips, an almost coy gesture that made the prodigy’s heart ache for his beloved.
“After all… You have already done so.”