Think Faster [MadaIta, past ShiIta, past MadaShi, hinted ItaSasu, hinted MadaSasu; NC-17]
Title: Think Faster
Author: the-lady-lamb and antisaints
Genre: Naruto
Sub-genre: Porn/Angst/Madara yeah, he gets his own subgenre
Summary: The world has an omniscient narrator in Madara (all-seeing, all-knowing, immortalized Madara), and Madara has the perfect little harbinger in Itachi, and Itachi has nowhere to run and no way to run there. And so things are all coming together exactly as planned. AU.
Rated: NC-17 for some very non-consensual blowjobs, rimming, and anal sex, some good old implied character death, violence, and cussing. Eight dee.
Author's Notes: Set in k_correctional!verse in before the actual k_correctional. The straightjacket hate sex was just way too good for me to resist. For Tuesday's prompt at uchihacest_week. Co-authored with the ever-wonderful antisaints. I couldn't have done it without her. ♥
Think Faster
Itachi's mind is as blank as the walls when Madara enters the room, and that is because he has prepared and braced himself as he always does. He has sewn his mind shut very carefully (as carefully as the sanatorium walls have been suicide-proofed, plushed-down and fortified to support a whole different type of life form; as carefully as his arms are buckled and strapped to his thighs). He is carefully going over and over his murdering of one of his younger cousins in his typical way - his memory is perfectly eidetic and so he can go through every single moment as if it is on film. He can slow it down to forty-times, and go over every small and terrible detail of her body and her face.
Madara knows this.
But only because Madara knows everything.
(The way Itachi so desperately belongs here. He knows that well. 341 murders, all done by a thirteen year old some 12:33 am through 3:52 am, and the fact that he managed to plow through the Uchiha compound over such a prolonged period of time and quietly kill every occupant of every room is astounding, to this day. Uchiha Madara knows this, and appreciates the beauty of the situation. Thus is why he is here.) "Do you know what they've diagnosed you with?" - voice deep, in his question, walking into the room, and Itachi does not react to the question in the way Madara absolutely expects him not to.
"It's cute, really. They think you're suffering from Dementia on top of Schizophrenia, Obsessive Compulsive disorder, and Narcissistic Personality Disorder, along with the possibility of a Shared-Psychotic disorder." (Madara grins a little at the latter bit.) "At the very least, they seem to think you're complex enough to have two personality disorders at once. They must think quite highly of you."
But everyone thinks highly of Itachi.
Even in death, in hatred, in agony, all who have paid witness or homage to the Massacre the world over think highly of Itachi. Itachi, his darling little nephew, the one who likes to play mindgames and who is hated by more people than would acknowledge hating Adolf Hitler, who undoubtedly killed more people in his time, and more callously than Itachi did. (Whether or not Itachi's value for life - his opinion that it is a gift, coupled with his belief that stealing is fundamentally wrong - will be a problem to him has yet to be seen. Either way, it can be said that the Prodigy killed them silently, politely, affectionately. As a cousin, a nephew, a son, a grandson, a blood relative with too cold and large a heart to be a proper murderer, or even properly insane.)
Itachi says nothing.
Does not even pay him attention.
Because Itachi is not suffering from Dementia, Schizophrenia, OCD, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Shared-Psychotic Disorder, or any strange combination of the three.
And Madara knows it.
(His silence is nothing.
It is only Itachi trying to shut him out.
Hormonal, teenaged behavior.)
And Madara expects it. (He has learned to expect very much the same things out of Itachi he had expected when he was younger. It had not and had never been Itachi's idea to kill the clan, and he had been horrified at the prospect when Madara proposed but, but not soon a fifteen minutes of speech was Itachi convinced, without hesitation. Madara is the God of manipulations - one must understand that to full understand both him and Itachi as human beings and not Gods nor psychopathic criminals.) "You're so impressive." His words are almost thoughtful, in tone, but his face is twisted horribly, jagged smile curving on his lips and eyes far too narrowed for anything good to come of him.
"You've been imprisoned here for life and haven't received a formal education since you were thirteen, and yet, you're still as smart as if you were reading every day. You truly are perfect, sometimes." Madara's smile widens, and he crouches down to Itachi's level. "But you should know that."
Itachi's nostrils flare softly, subtly.
And Madara sees all.
Sees his pupils dilate and - Itachi never fears, but how, then, does he remain so paranoid...? - perhaps into his head, but Itachi has made his face into a bird cage, and his mind into a bird incapable of singing. (The metaphor. He'd given her a doll for Christmas, and she'd never touched it for it's perfection; he almost envied it in that way, wished the same could be said for humans, but even as he removed its arm from the plastic socket and walked to her bedside he could feel his uncle's hands all over him. Feel his-)
Itachi is as still as death, is chained down by sedative medications and in a straightjacket, and still Madara can see the whir and click of gears and levers in his robotic-machinery brain.
(-inside of him.)
Everything.
(Every muscle, bone, nerve, tendon, ligament, artery- Every individual cell, and Madara can see them. Maybe he has X-Ray vision, or maybe Itachi is simply a language that one must learn, but upon learning it does one never have to think twice about understanding. Madara has grown up, understanding Itachi's secret words and understandings. And so he can see.) So he can feel Itachi's thinned face, his cheek underneath his fingers and chin resting beneath his thumb, and Itachi is both non-reactant and absolutely enraged to be touched, but Madara has never cared about such things. (You were always-) And strokes the skin which holds tightly against Itachi's lovely little skull, which encases a mind that could almost be as intense as his own.
(Almost.)
Madara's skin is not Itachi's skin, and Madara's lips are not Itachi's lips. (But his hands might as well be Itachi's hands, because Madara always knows what Itachi feels and who Itachi touches. He always, always knows, and that suits both of them well enough.) Words are taunting. (And so Madara often uses them, but for Itachi's mouth he only occupies with his own, a ruthless type of kiss with a very minor gentle somewhere on a backburner. The thirteen year old of Itachi will always be there, and so the caring of Madara will always be somewhere behind a curtain as well.) Far behind.
But there.
So painfully there, even when the two of them are so ill-adjusted to feeling pain that they tend to interpret it as lust instead. (As existent as Sasuke, and when Madara passes his final judgment does Itachi still steadfastly refuse, and they understand one another in that way.
The difference is that Madara overcame his misgivings to achieve what he knew he could,
and Itachi never bothered with knowing anything at all, so strong was his desire, his need to protect his younger brother, the one who is now in Korea and outside of Madara's sphere of influence.
Itachi is not relieved.
He still has the presence of mind to know that his beloved Sasuke has not escaped Madara's cruel, strangling fingers yet.
Just as Shisui could not escape his.)
Itachi's brain stops.
Blanks.
Painfully.
(Brittle.)
And Madara is victorious again.
As always.
The hissed, "I'll kill you," that is so easily ignored. Overlooked. Overturned with fingers in all the wrong-right places. (Brittle.)
"You won't."
Madara's words are dark, his eyes wild in an Uchiha kind of way - but of course, he changed his surname a very, very long time ago, and so nobody but Itachi really remembers who he is. (Madara does not want the name Uchiha because he does not want to be one of the Tragic Survivors. The fact that there was only one makes the story all the more dramatic, and Itachi all the more hated, because unlike Adolf Hitler, Itachi had no reason. Itachi had no followers. He worked alone, killing infants and children to able bodied adults. And Sasuke is gone. But of course, he will come back one day, and Itachi knows that, and when he does return, he must kill him because under any other circumstance will he too fall into Madara's hands.) "Not because you can't, but because you won't."
Kisses him again, and it's slow, relatively painful in nature, because in the same way Madara has every problem in the world with damaging Itachi does he love to strip him to pieces. (Because Madara exists in plans. Itachi is a plan of his gone very, very right, and Sasuke will be too, because Madara's eyes see far into the future, and he knows what is to happen. He knows. Everything that made the Uchihas famous before death was intelligence and genetics. That will be, in the end, what the remaining alive are famous for as well.) And Itachi's skin ripples beneath his fingers as he strokes his skin, supporting his chin with a steadily tighter and more vicious grip. (Madara is always in control.)
Always.
The same way he has control over this environment as it's highest executive he has control over everything and everyone therein. The lawyers, the inmates, the orderlies, and most likely the judge that presides over the court. He has control and with every piece on his chess piece does he make a move that will serve him better.
It is because he knows everything.
For example, he knows that even if Itachi's hands were free, and even if the boy were truly resolved in killing him (Madara does not believe he is, most likely because he isn't) he would not and that is because their minds are too alike. Even at their moment of greatest disruption, of greatest contrast in relativity to one another, they are more alike than oil and water are. They are alike enough to very nearly merge and procreate when they are too close.
And if Itachi were a girl and swollen with Madara's child, Madara would tell him to kill it.
And after fifteen minutes Itachi would, without question.
Itachi will not kill him because Itachi is too curious, even still. He is too curious; he wants to know whose tool he is now, what purpose he is serving where he is, bound in a tiny, windowless room like this. Bound in such a way that his arms are losing their hard-gained muscle (Madara watches them when Itachi is walked like some sort of Manson around the courtyard of the prison, his arms held behind him in manacle that sheathe the full of his forearms so that he cannot move them at all. Itachi builds muscle slowly and so Madara would find it a great pity if he were capable of pitying things and if it weren't exactly what he wanted). Itachi's fingers and hands have become the focal point of the art deco that is his body, and Madara knows that even if they were free, were gripping his throat, Itachi would never be able to overcome himself.
The same way Itachi will not kill Sasuke, he will not kill Madara. Itachi is still too stuck on his petty ideas of life as something valuable, of life as a gift neither he nor any other person is truly allowed to take from anyone. Itachi is still too trapped by the glass window panes of his memory and his hatred and his resolve.
His legs are the only thing he can use to defend himself, and so he simultaneously attempts to twist his head away and knee him in the side. And Madara sees all, knows all, sees it all coming and smiles and deflects the blow. And Itachi bucks and fights him exactly the way he always does.
Madara can feel him choke.
(-And in that does it make everything better. He retreats, of course - he doesn't want to kill Itachi, not yet, at any rate, and so he licks the tip of Itachi's tongue as he moves away, because he knows Itachi is going to say something, and he probably knows what it is at the same time. Madara knows just about all of it, and in that way does he put his hands hard on Itachi's legs to hold him still, to keep him constricted, and it isn't surprising to him at all he can fight this much on top of all of the anti-psychotics and sedatives. It isn't surprising because it's Itachi, who will never stop.
Not even trapped in a place such as this.)
That fire can reach such blinded eyes will never surprise him.
"I'll destroy so much of you that you will not have the strength or sense to die."
"You won't. And that's because without me, Sasuke will fall apart in every fashion you wished him not to. Your life depends on mine. His life depends on your death. If you wish to destroy me, then you will probably kill yourself and - inevitably - your brother along the way."
Madara pauses, narrowing his eyes, and his strike is extremely hard against Itachi's cheek, and he feels no guilt for it because Itachi's cheeks are already far too pale and the color flatters his face, to a degree. Everything flatters Itachi because he is absolutely gorgeous in every way possible. "Or, of course, I could alter my own agenda and kill him myself. Things can be changed, and he could be useful post-mortem."
Itachi makes the strangled, agonized sound Madara knew he would make (wherever he found himself when it happened), and he catches his nephew's foot by the ankle as it swings again at his solar plexus.
"You won't touch him."
Madara smiles. (He can be so cruel sometimes, and that is what makes him the perfect mentor for Itachi. That is what makes him so suitable, because Itachi is so talented in every way, and so manipulatable in only one way. In one way, and Madara knows it back to front, because Itachi is everything to him, and all he could have ever pieced together with careful hands. Itachi is his Test Subject. Sasuke will be the real product. That has been the plan since he learned Sasuke was significantly less talented than Itachi was, and that Itachi was in love with-)
"That's right. On agreeable terms, I will not." (Presses his hands onto the straight jacket's material.) "And my terms are as they have always been." (Because Madara does not change much, and that is what makes himself and Itachi identical entities.)
Itachi's hands are clenched and shaking with rage.
And it delights him.
(Because Madara's hands are not Shisui's hands - he was not the one with his fingers pressed too gently against this once-thirteen-year-old's cheek, even though he watched it all through the rain like some sort of sentient being. Watched the way Itachi's eyes closed, feathery lashes sticking together under the eaves, as Shisui kissed him once, twice, gently. Madara knows cruelty when he sees it, because he is used to being in rooms filled with metaphorical mirrors.)
And to this day, Madara knows that the moment wherein Itachi remembers the way he killed his best friend will be the moment wherein he breaks completely, and then Sasuke will be completely his, and Itachi
will be completely broken.
(The mind is a strange and complex thing.)
His smile widens.
(I could love you sometimes.)
- And kisses Itachi's cheek. (But I'll tear you apart someday.) Stands up and unzips his pants, and the noise is slow and expected, stringing Itachi's shorter hair as he takes it out, and there's something horribly - "Now." (-wicked about him, but if it were to be analyzed, this is not at all much different from when he had sex with Itachi prior to conviction. Itachi, then, was just significantly more eager to pleasure him. Things come and go in that way.) Tightens his fingers and rips Itachi's head forward.
Sheathes himself inside Itachi's perfectperfect little ivory mouth.
Feels twenty out of thirty two perfectperfect little ivory teeth (every tooth that can reach) grip him with a tearing pressure - he forms the rhythm himself so that his nephew cannot keep proper purchase on him, cannot get enough of a grip to cause him real damage. He forces Itachi's head up and down, forces himself in further than he would usually get if this darling little nephew of his was willing, plunges deeply into Itachi's perfectperfect little ivory throat and plunders him for everything he is worth. (Scrapes memories from his mind with a chisel. There are so many that most people would forfeit all hope of every getting rid of all of them, but Madara finally has Itachi backed into a corner where the only thing the boy can do is run backwards. And eventually - eventually, and Madara is more than patient enough - he will run out of space to run. He will be out of memories to hide in. And then Itachi will be his completely.
Even though most would say that Itachi is already his completely.) Itachi bites him hard at the base; Itachi is trying to be all teeth even when the back of his throat is supple and clenching around the head of Madara's cock. Even when the back of his throat reveals the same thing that Itachi's clothing did six years ago. (A thirteen-year-old that since eleven had been learning to make his body speak for him, that, without even understanding the full ramifications of the danger he was in, had lain splayed and naked at Madara's nonexistent mercy. A thirteen-year-old that could say with his limbs "fuck me, fuck me" even when from his mouth, no such words would ever be uttered. Madara knows that Itachi will never like sex. Has never liked sex. Would've gone his whole life without it if it wasn't for him. And Madara knows what a tragedy that would be. Because Itachi's whole body is tight and flexible and perfectperfectperfect.)
And Madara groans deeply as Itachi attempts to tear him apart, but he is pushed far too deeply down his throat for the barely present amounts of pain to be of any notice to him because Itachi's tonsils clench around him, and the tremors of him almost-gagging are just as they were before, if maybe a little less intense since then because his mouth is larger and he has grown. (Forces him up and down and it's rough and it's violent because Madara does not believe in regret and has many things yet for Itachi to understand. Because even now will Itachi listen to Madara speak and let himself be manipulated, because if one were to give him ten minutes, he could easily convince his nephew to escape from the sanatorium. Itachi would find a way out if Madara told him it was imperative for him to do so.)
Itachi's rage is vibrant and absolutely sane around his cock.
(Every flame. Everything. Every scrape of the tooth and clench of the muscles and swelling of the tonsils - Itachi has not changed because Madara has not changed. They have only spent the time locked away to think about what can be done and what can be erased. Madara has erased much of Itachi, in that time, but Itachi has erased a great deal more. Time and memory does not exist when it ceases to have point or meaning.) In, and out. (Ruthless. Rage. So, so cruel.)
The thing that so many people (his own little brother) would say about Itachi and in a way they are correct but in so many other ways they are wrong wrong wrong, because only the part of Itachi that is one with Madara is cruel. Everything else is simply sick and dying. Everything else is perfectperfectperfect.
Itachi is not a child.
He is a criminal.
And Madara has leashed him here for his own very sane and very cruel means.
(People have always feared God to be a wrathful entity, and expected him to punish to souls of sinners and demand that others repent. People fear God far more than love him, and it is Itachi who sits somewhere in between those lines, because the God who controls his existence is unforgivingly wrathful and terribly loving. Madara is a person of many souls, of course. Itachi is one of them, just as Shisui was one of them, just as Sasuke will soon be. Madara, the eternal manipulator, who has not aged in body since he was twenty but ages in mind with every day's passing.) Itachi's hair is tearing beneath his fingers, easily removed from malnutrition and deterioration of the hair follicles from within his scalp, and it is like (-"You're so young, Madara-kun. Why do you ask those questions?" "I have never been young.") - nothing.
Everything.
(In and out. Grits his teeth and continues to pull Itachi forward and backward by his hair until he abruptly holds him forward, hard, as deep as he can go within his throat before letting his release into him. Madara is so cruel, and Itachi cannot fight him for it because he sold his soul to him too long ago for a revoked contract.)
Itachi cannot fight him and so instead he chokes, his face shaking with the amount of effort he has to exert to not let his eyes close. He has not closed them yet, he has not ever trusted Madara the way he once trusted Shisui. He has never broken eye contact.
(Even though he listened to Madara and did not,
"You mustn't be near him, Itachi-kun."
listen to Shisui.
"Madara-oji is too dangerous for you to deal with, now.")
He does not swallow it. He refuses.
Itachi's pride is steadfastly sewn onto the back of his brain stem and Madara has never been able to rip it away. Itachi is a Prodigy and will never have humility, will never allow himself to be so disgraced as to swallow Madara's cum, will never allow himself to break eye contact, even as his face is being fucked who-knows-how-many-times.
His eyes do not close.
His gaze does not break.
Madara retracts, allowing Itachi to spit out what hadn't already made it down the back of his throat with a fairly amused expression (-because Madara does not glut in sex. He does not find it to be the most pleasurable of acts, but he knows it's terribly degrading, and the more there is, the more whomever he's taking the time to tear apart at the time will become his entirely. He'd started with Shisui, of course, but then Itachi began to show the genius brewing in his lovelylovely skull, and so he's fucked the skin covering that lovelylovely skull so many times at this point that he knows that-) Everything. (Madara knows everything. There isn't anything in specific about it. He knows. Everything. He needs to know. Always.)
Picks up Itachi's hips and jerks him onto his stomach.
(Open your eyes, someday.)
But if a person is blind, what does it matter if their eyes are open or not?
(Madara knows how far Itachi's illness has progressed because he is the one who performs all the tests. Itachi knows how far his illness has progressed because of how hard he must fight just to see anything nowadays - not even discernible shapes, but such simple things as color, or light.)
Fight, fight, fight.
Itachi twists, cannot use his arms and so instead uses his whole body so that it collides with bony vengeance; his own bones press against him, a thin and brittle pressure, and he grunts softly, frustratedy. He is so agonized in his very existence, his uncle torments him and so he is tormented.
Itachi haunts himself.
Knees Madara in the side hard as he's moved.
(And he grunts, loudly, the sharp pain traveling quickly about his hips, and it is both of his hands that lace together and come down, hard, at a point in Itachi's spine. The spine is a weak element of the Human Body by nature, and the fact that it's laced entirely with nerves rectifies the fact that is not something meant to be damaged, and so the pain is a hot one that shoots up Itachi's back as Madara pulls his legs apart, propping him up on his knees and working easily with the material, as Itachi is not even permitted to wear drawstrings, and the elastic is too loose to cause any kind of strangulation without excessive force. The whole of Itachi's existence has been proofed to make sure his existence is not there.)
Itachi's body is thin and relatively fragile, though his legs have more remaining muscle than anywhere else.
(And Madara spends only a second or two sucking on a couple of his fingers before pressing them both in, ruthlessly, at once. Madara has always had a lot of patience, but in the same way he has so much of that does he rarely let it last.)
Madara has been waiting for Itachi for a long time.
(Itachi, who strangles himself again, visibly, surging forward, craning his neck to bite deep and hard into the flesh of his uncle's throat where it hangs so hauntingly above his head and so Madara works deep enough, thrusts deep enough to feel Itachi's jaw go slack when his body spasms. Itachi, who chokes and clenches around him deliciously, unwillingly, fighting him still, trying to both draw him in and force him out, and Madara can see into his mind, can see the only voice Itachi truly possesses screaming at him through those eyes.
GetoutgetoutgetoutofmegetoutofmeI'llkillyou-)
Madara can hear it.
(Madara has always been able to hear Itachi's voice. Madara was the only person who listened to Itachi with keen interest during the boy's silence, and that is why Madara knows. He is not a mind reader or anything of that notion, but just an extremely good listener, and he is so very much not blind as the rest of the Uchiha clan has grown to be that with time-) Stretches his fingers, pressing hard into the spot that every time it is brushed Itachi loses his voice entirely and stops being able to think at all, and in that notion is everything as it should be. Stretches him and pushes back and forth into the spot until Itachi's screams are far too loud and far too violently desperate (killyou) that he removes them, raising Itachi's hips further and dipping his head slightly between his legs, tongue flicking at the stretched muscle slightly and hands working up and down his- (I love you sometimes.) -cock with relative familiarity and gentleness. (It'll always be there.) Madara's tongue swirls around the area, patiently, opposing hand returning to it and pressing back inside along with his tongue, and he twists and fingers him until he's entirely satisfied with how much Itachi cannot stop shaking. Itachi can find no purchase against the floor and so he is rocked uncontrollably - he cannot help but find himself in whatever position Madara wants him in.
(But eventually, you know, I'll tear you apart.)
Madara knows everything, most of all that the tongue is a muscle and relatively short in comparison to his own deceptively long fingers - but he cannot fit his tongue around them and so they have been jerked out so that he can fill the space as he sees fit. Itachi writhes beneath him, so much out of disgust but that perfect little sliver of glass Madara is driving into his stomach will be the fatal one. Itachi is fighting his eyes, is fighting his own body now, and Madara knows (everything) that that will be enough for him to come out victorious. Itachi knows it too - knows that if he focuses on anything but fighting Madara his uncle will win - and inevitably-
He knocks Itachi's legs wider apart, twists his tongue delicately and feels the nineteen-year-old sieze; feels Itachi's body strangle itself, racked with pleasure and nausea, feels as Itachi's restrained arms, perfectly cut nails tear desperately into his thighs, making perfect little crescents in the skin. (Milk. Ivory. The palest snow, not even vibrant enough to reflect sunlight. Itachi is a marble statue. A beautiful work of art.) Feels him tremble as he nearly bites through his lower lip; Madara is flat against him, his tongue buried as deep as it can be, his mouth open against Itachi's perfect artwork body, his teeth just as perfect, his heat mindbending.
(The risk that might break you - you have no idea what you're dealing with.)
Itachi, who is making no sound, and is still screaming.
Itachi, who is fighting a battle he has already lost, just like every time before.
There are so many reasons there are no cameras installed in this room.
And so it is entirely abrupt that Madara pulls away from him, sitting up more and positioning himself a bit more cleanly, and he knows that Itachi will be difficult to penetrate because he always has been (and they don't ever change), and so he lowers Itachi's hips just slightly, to his own level, and forces himself in hard, and it Itachi's (eyes that are screaming. Madara cannot see his mouth, but Itachi's lips are most likely clenched horribly together, trying with all of his power to constrain any noise and any relative weakness, but that is impossible in the same way Itachi killing Madara is impossible.) - body the jerks, hard, clenches, a strangled noise that comes out either way, and Madara's fingers dig into his hips are he adjusts himself for a few seconds before pulling himself out and just as roughly pushing himself back inside, and there is no kindness or gentle anymore because Madara came for one reason, and it was not to have sex with Itachi.
(No cameras. Not a single one. There is a large one-way window on the opposite wall, but when authorized officials like Madara are in the room personally, Itachi is not under anyone else's surveillance through it. It is rather funny, to Madara, that this is the case, considering Itachi is considered a highly dangerous and criminally insane patient, but the medical field will usually do all that they can to do nothing, especially when dealing with the more annoying of their workload. Especially with a killer who's become as infamous as Uchiha Itachi.)
But then, Madara finds it funny and encourages it at the same time. (If he is inside of this room, he is to be inside of it alone, without eyes on his back. The window was installed to torture. He knows the way Itachi is paranoid, knows the way his nephew so loathes being watched, most especially by instruments of Madara's device.
If he is inside of Itachi, he is not to be disturbed.)
And Madara is always somehow inside of Itachi.
It is how he knows that Itachi will always bend to him.
(Because Madara can make him bend.)
Because Madara can make him do anything.
(That is his greatest gift.)
He holds Itachi's hips steadily, though his grip is tight and Itachi is tight - Itachi's body is godly and it spasms and tightens around Madara just beautifully, and so Madara is entirely still for a moment, savoring the delicious body beneath him and Itachi's blatant agony - savors it as if it were something holy, and after a few moments of appreciating Itachi for all of his beauty does Madara return to his almost animalistic sadism, stroking in and out of his younger nephew with a kind of violently demented look about him, because Madara can have anything he so desires, and Itachi is just one of the many offerings. (Sasuke is a far more elusive desire, at this point, but Madara is not thinking of Sasuke but only Itachi because it is Itachi's body that is wrapped so tightly around his cock and Itachi's body that will, in the end, give him everything he wants.)
It is not Madara's immortality that makes him so ferocious.
It is that because he is immortal, so is his mind.
(Itachi is not - Itachi will only be this young for so long and that is the one thing Madara truly cannot stand about him whatsoever. The largest and most consequential tragedy in the world is that Itachi's beauty cannot last forever. It is proof that Madara might be Itachi's God, but there is another out there, who would damn Madara to never truly getting everything he ever wanted. There is another who has given Itachi a disease so that he might be forever preserved in what will be his premature death.)
This boy beneath him will die and so avenge his parents, his grandparents, his lover, and his precious Sasuke. This boy who is Madara's perfect little harbinger, his nephew by his brother's oldest son, Fugaku, whose body they never found. (Fugaku, who was the only person in the Uchiha family Itachi just might've killed himself, if left to his own devices. Fugaku, who so inspired his brilliant oldest son to withdraw so far into himself that he took a step backwards, and there was Madara, waiting to drag him so deeply into the water that he would never escape.)
Itachi is a powerful swimmer.
But he is drowning in his own mind, now.
(Drowning and roiling and twisting but so, so deathly still, except for the obscene rock-forward, followed by the obscene rock-back. Madara is moving for him and his legs are shaking and there is a pressure at the back of his throat that makes him think that he might be about to vomit. The idea is so disgusting to him that he clenches down even harder and he feels Madara's dick twitch inside of him as he does so, and the sensation is scathing. This is so incredibly degrading, the way his knees and the left side of his face are pushed into the floor; the joints are sick with noise, with an ache, and his cheek is sticking slightly, as it slides back and forth, and he vaguely wonders if either will be rubbed raw. He doesn't know.
Itachi is not Madara.
GETOUTOFME. GETOUTOFMEYOUSICKSONOVABITCHI'LLKILLYOU. I'LLKILLYOU.)
But you won't. That's your worst flaw.)
And Madara can absolutely taste Itachi's disgust, his antipleasure and his hatred and absolutely anything and everything he can do to make Itachi loath this more because loathing is what makes anything and everything happen. Manipulation helps, of course, but for any event in the world to occur there has to be some amount of pure and irrefutable hatred behind it. It will always be Madara's words that quietly told Sasuke that he must hate Itachi with all of his being. Madara's words out of Itachi's perfect, pretty-) gasping (-mouth.) Can't breathe. (It's too deep.)
Grabs Itachi's hips and pulls him forward, forcing all of himself completely inside of him - as much as he can before letting the pressure go and pulling back outwards. (Over and over. Madara did not come here to rape Itachi and they both know that, but all lessons must be learned. Madara will always be Itachi's teacher, if nothing else.) And slams back in. (You won't kill me no matter how many times you scream it.)
Madara could beat Itachi to death and never shame him as much as this.
("You'll never grow as a warrior if you cannot first defeat your ego, and bring an end to pride's mastery over you.")
The point is to grind him down until he is nothing except a pure element; to dissect him until only his perfect body and flawless mind remain; to take him apart all at once and then sew him back without his reservations or his opinions or his personality in tact. (Never all at once - everything is a slow process. But Madara has the time to do it. Madara has the time and Itachi does not, even though Itachi's internal clock is still intact, constantly ticking away the effervescent minutes that encompass his internment here.)
The point is to humble him so completely that he cannot help but feel as the threads attaching his pride to the back of his brain as they loosen and deteriorate. He cannot help but feel his mind and body as they go through the steps of dying.
(It is the yakuza policy of removing the pinky finger when one has made so terrible a mistake as-)
Itachi's jaw is clenched so tightly that it begins to hurt him and his breath is keeping the tempo of Madara's thrusts. (Madara can feel it through his back.) When the elder of them is completely inside, Itachi is simultaneously being completed and torn viciously apart.
(He cannot defend himself.
Or his pride.)
Because Madara is far too cruel on far too many levels.
(Itachi was built to fall apart in someone's hands. Far better his than Shisui's. Madara's hands are larger and better equipped to catch the doll parts and force them back together just the way he wants it. Itachi is absolutely famous for being able to take anything and make a weapon out of it. Madara, however, is not famous for what he can do concerning Itachi, and that's to say, absolutely everything.) Out, and in, and he groans because Itachi feels so good it's almost painful. (-Madara knows Itachi's head. Every thought, every feeling, and every cell developed - Madara knows it all because he has programmed Itachi to think very much like himself. So cruel.)
Madara knows that Itachi is right on the verge of cumming because of how tight his muscles are clenching, because of how much almost-unintended resistance is presented him as he entered. Itachi is smart enough to conserve his effort and try to force Madara out only when he is inside when he is beneath him like this, so long as he is in control, so it is evident that he is losing control when it is just as hard to enter him every single time. It is evident in the way his thighs shake.
(Execution.)
A perfect ten.
Because Madara is exactly right.
Two strokes in and Itachi cums, almost dry, shaking with rage and more emotion than the most insightful psychiatrist could ever elicit from him. Itachi cums gaspingly, his heartbeat pausing for the explosion, the detonation of his mind, and his pretorn lip splits cleanly.
Blood spills onto his chin and onto the floor.
(And Madara's is exactly 3/40th of an hour after Itachi's, which is really only a few minutes, violently into Itachi's body until he is entirely done and pulls out of him with ease. Madara, who has absolutely no problem at all with doing such a thing to him because it means Itachi will continue to grow. Itachi is of very little use to him dead, while Sasuke is an entirely different story, and that was half of Madara's reasoning for Itachi to kill the clan. For a point, he needed the child to get rid of them, and for the less obvious other, he needed Itachi in a place where he couldn't be allowed to die, and so it is he personally who supervises Itachi's care in the sanatorium. Mikoto and Fugaku's children both have their own uses carved out for them.)
Replaces his pants, and speaks calmly, speaks terribly and without true voice.
"About fourty-five minutes ago, your brother's flight in from Korea landed. He is going to obtain a gun shortly after departing from the airport and intends to come here and kill you. I've arranged for the lighter security to be in hold today so he can get through. Doing to him what I just did to you will substantially increase his chances of hitting you one of the four times he will fire the gun in your direction. Killing you will save his life and, more importantly, his mind, but the likelihood nonetheless is that after killing you he'll probably turn the gun on himself. You have four minutes and thirty five seconds to think before he is finished being patted down by security."
Itachi's breath hitches and Sasuke's steps echo cleanly as he scares birds from the pavement. (The older shudders. The younger clenches his fists.)
"Madara-"
A cruel smile
that is the words
Think
faster.
Author: the-lady-lamb and antisaints
Genre: Naruto
Sub-genre: Porn/Angst/Madara yeah, he gets his own subgenre
Summary: The world has an omniscient narrator in Madara (all-seeing, all-knowing, immortalized Madara), and Madara has the perfect little harbinger in Itachi, and Itachi has nowhere to run and no way to run there. And so things are all coming together exactly as planned. AU.
Rated: NC-17 for some very non-consensual blowjobs, rimming, and anal sex, some good old implied character death, violence, and cussing. Eight dee.
Author's Notes: Set in k_correctional!verse in before the actual k_correctional. The straightjacket hate sex was just way too good for me to resist. For Tuesday's prompt at uchihacest_week. Co-authored with the ever-wonderful antisaints. I couldn't have done it without her. ♥
Think Faster
Itachi's mind is as blank as the walls when Madara enters the room, and that is because he has prepared and braced himself as he always does. He has sewn his mind shut very carefully (as carefully as the sanatorium walls have been suicide-proofed, plushed-down and fortified to support a whole different type of life form; as carefully as his arms are buckled and strapped to his thighs). He is carefully going over and over his murdering of one of his younger cousins in his typical way - his memory is perfectly eidetic and so he can go through every single moment as if it is on film. He can slow it down to forty-times, and go over every small and terrible detail of her body and her face.
Madara knows this.
But only because Madara knows everything.
(The way Itachi so desperately belongs here. He knows that well. 341 murders, all done by a thirteen year old some 12:33 am through 3:52 am, and the fact that he managed to plow through the Uchiha compound over such a prolonged period of time and quietly kill every occupant of every room is astounding, to this day. Uchiha Madara knows this, and appreciates the beauty of the situation. Thus is why he is here.) "Do you know what they've diagnosed you with?" - voice deep, in his question, walking into the room, and Itachi does not react to the question in the way Madara absolutely expects him not to.
"It's cute, really. They think you're suffering from Dementia on top of Schizophrenia, Obsessive Compulsive disorder, and Narcissistic Personality Disorder, along with the possibility of a Shared-Psychotic disorder." (Madara grins a little at the latter bit.) "At the very least, they seem to think you're complex enough to have two personality disorders at once. They must think quite highly of you."
But everyone thinks highly of Itachi.
Even in death, in hatred, in agony, all who have paid witness or homage to the Massacre the world over think highly of Itachi. Itachi, his darling little nephew, the one who likes to play mindgames and who is hated by more people than would acknowledge hating Adolf Hitler, who undoubtedly killed more people in his time, and more callously than Itachi did. (Whether or not Itachi's value for life - his opinion that it is a gift, coupled with his belief that stealing is fundamentally wrong - will be a problem to him has yet to be seen. Either way, it can be said that the Prodigy killed them silently, politely, affectionately. As a cousin, a nephew, a son, a grandson, a blood relative with too cold and large a heart to be a proper murderer, or even properly insane.)
Itachi says nothing.
Does not even pay him attention.
Because Itachi is not suffering from Dementia, Schizophrenia, OCD, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Shared-Psychotic Disorder, or any strange combination of the three.
And Madara knows it.
(His silence is nothing.
It is only Itachi trying to shut him out.
Hormonal, teenaged behavior.)
And Madara expects it. (He has learned to expect very much the same things out of Itachi he had expected when he was younger. It had not and had never been Itachi's idea to kill the clan, and he had been horrified at the prospect when Madara proposed but, but not soon a fifteen minutes of speech was Itachi convinced, without hesitation. Madara is the God of manipulations - one must understand that to full understand both him and Itachi as human beings and not Gods nor psychopathic criminals.) "You're so impressive." His words are almost thoughtful, in tone, but his face is twisted horribly, jagged smile curving on his lips and eyes far too narrowed for anything good to come of him.
"You've been imprisoned here for life and haven't received a formal education since you were thirteen, and yet, you're still as smart as if you were reading every day. You truly are perfect, sometimes." Madara's smile widens, and he crouches down to Itachi's level. "But you should know that."
Itachi's nostrils flare softly, subtly.
And Madara sees all.
Sees his pupils dilate and - Itachi never fears, but how, then, does he remain so paranoid...? - perhaps into his head, but Itachi has made his face into a bird cage, and his mind into a bird incapable of singing. (The metaphor. He'd given her a doll for Christmas, and she'd never touched it for it's perfection; he almost envied it in that way, wished the same could be said for humans, but even as he removed its arm from the plastic socket and walked to her bedside he could feel his uncle's hands all over him. Feel his-)
Itachi is as still as death, is chained down by sedative medications and in a straightjacket, and still Madara can see the whir and click of gears and levers in his robotic-machinery brain.
(-inside of him.)
Everything.
(Every muscle, bone, nerve, tendon, ligament, artery- Every individual cell, and Madara can see them. Maybe he has X-Ray vision, or maybe Itachi is simply a language that one must learn, but upon learning it does one never have to think twice about understanding. Madara has grown up, understanding Itachi's secret words and understandings. And so he can see.) So he can feel Itachi's thinned face, his cheek underneath his fingers and chin resting beneath his thumb, and Itachi is both non-reactant and absolutely enraged to be touched, but Madara has never cared about such things. (You were always-) And strokes the skin which holds tightly against Itachi's lovely little skull, which encases a mind that could almost be as intense as his own.
(Almost.)
Madara's skin is not Itachi's skin, and Madara's lips are not Itachi's lips. (But his hands might as well be Itachi's hands, because Madara always knows what Itachi feels and who Itachi touches. He always, always knows, and that suits both of them well enough.) Words are taunting. (And so Madara often uses them, but for Itachi's mouth he only occupies with his own, a ruthless type of kiss with a very minor gentle somewhere on a backburner. The thirteen year old of Itachi will always be there, and so the caring of Madara will always be somewhere behind a curtain as well.) Far behind.
But there.
So painfully there, even when the two of them are so ill-adjusted to feeling pain that they tend to interpret it as lust instead. (As existent as Sasuke, and when Madara passes his final judgment does Itachi still steadfastly refuse, and they understand one another in that way.
The difference is that Madara overcame his misgivings to achieve what he knew he could,
and Itachi never bothered with knowing anything at all, so strong was his desire, his need to protect his younger brother, the one who is now in Korea and outside of Madara's sphere of influence.
Itachi is not relieved.
He still has the presence of mind to know that his beloved Sasuke has not escaped Madara's cruel, strangling fingers yet.
Just as Shisui could not escape his.)
Itachi's brain stops.
Blanks.
Painfully.
(Brittle.)
And Madara is victorious again.
As always.
The hissed, "I'll kill you," that is so easily ignored. Overlooked. Overturned with fingers in all the wrong-right places. (Brittle.)
"You won't."
Madara's words are dark, his eyes wild in an Uchiha kind of way - but of course, he changed his surname a very, very long time ago, and so nobody but Itachi really remembers who he is. (Madara does not want the name Uchiha because he does not want to be one of the Tragic Survivors. The fact that there was only one makes the story all the more dramatic, and Itachi all the more hated, because unlike Adolf Hitler, Itachi had no reason. Itachi had no followers. He worked alone, killing infants and children to able bodied adults. And Sasuke is gone. But of course, he will come back one day, and Itachi knows that, and when he does return, he must kill him because under any other circumstance will he too fall into Madara's hands.) "Not because you can't, but because you won't."
Kisses him again, and it's slow, relatively painful in nature, because in the same way Madara has every problem in the world with damaging Itachi does he love to strip him to pieces. (Because Madara exists in plans. Itachi is a plan of his gone very, very right, and Sasuke will be too, because Madara's eyes see far into the future, and he knows what is to happen. He knows. Everything that made the Uchihas famous before death was intelligence and genetics. That will be, in the end, what the remaining alive are famous for as well.) And Itachi's skin ripples beneath his fingers as he strokes his skin, supporting his chin with a steadily tighter and more vicious grip. (Madara is always in control.)
Always.
The same way he has control over this environment as it's highest executive he has control over everything and everyone therein. The lawyers, the inmates, the orderlies, and most likely the judge that presides over the court. He has control and with every piece on his chess piece does he make a move that will serve him better.
It is because he knows everything.
For example, he knows that even if Itachi's hands were free, and even if the boy were truly resolved in killing him (Madara does not believe he is, most likely because he isn't) he would not and that is because their minds are too alike. Even at their moment of greatest disruption, of greatest contrast in relativity to one another, they are more alike than oil and water are. They are alike enough to very nearly merge and procreate when they are too close.
And if Itachi were a girl and swollen with Madara's child, Madara would tell him to kill it.
And after fifteen minutes Itachi would, without question.
Itachi will not kill him because Itachi is too curious, even still. He is too curious; he wants to know whose tool he is now, what purpose he is serving where he is, bound in a tiny, windowless room like this. Bound in such a way that his arms are losing their hard-gained muscle (Madara watches them when Itachi is walked like some sort of Manson around the courtyard of the prison, his arms held behind him in manacle that sheathe the full of his forearms so that he cannot move them at all. Itachi builds muscle slowly and so Madara would find it a great pity if he were capable of pitying things and if it weren't exactly what he wanted). Itachi's fingers and hands have become the focal point of the art deco that is his body, and Madara knows that even if they were free, were gripping his throat, Itachi would never be able to overcome himself.
The same way Itachi will not kill Sasuke, he will not kill Madara. Itachi is still too stuck on his petty ideas of life as something valuable, of life as a gift neither he nor any other person is truly allowed to take from anyone. Itachi is still too trapped by the glass window panes of his memory and his hatred and his resolve.
His legs are the only thing he can use to defend himself, and so he simultaneously attempts to twist his head away and knee him in the side. And Madara sees all, knows all, sees it all coming and smiles and deflects the blow. And Itachi bucks and fights him exactly the way he always does.
Madara can feel him choke.
(-And in that does it make everything better. He retreats, of course - he doesn't want to kill Itachi, not yet, at any rate, and so he licks the tip of Itachi's tongue as he moves away, because he knows Itachi is going to say something, and he probably knows what it is at the same time. Madara knows just about all of it, and in that way does he put his hands hard on Itachi's legs to hold him still, to keep him constricted, and it isn't surprising to him at all he can fight this much on top of all of the anti-psychotics and sedatives. It isn't surprising because it's Itachi, who will never stop.
Not even trapped in a place such as this.)
That fire can reach such blinded eyes will never surprise him.
"I'll destroy so much of you that you will not have the strength or sense to die."
"You won't. And that's because without me, Sasuke will fall apart in every fashion you wished him not to. Your life depends on mine. His life depends on your death. If you wish to destroy me, then you will probably kill yourself and - inevitably - your brother along the way."
Madara pauses, narrowing his eyes, and his strike is extremely hard against Itachi's cheek, and he feels no guilt for it because Itachi's cheeks are already far too pale and the color flatters his face, to a degree. Everything flatters Itachi because he is absolutely gorgeous in every way possible. "Or, of course, I could alter my own agenda and kill him myself. Things can be changed, and he could be useful post-mortem."
Itachi makes the strangled, agonized sound Madara knew he would make (wherever he found himself when it happened), and he catches his nephew's foot by the ankle as it swings again at his solar plexus.
"You won't touch him."
Madara smiles. (He can be so cruel sometimes, and that is what makes him the perfect mentor for Itachi. That is what makes him so suitable, because Itachi is so talented in every way, and so manipulatable in only one way. In one way, and Madara knows it back to front, because Itachi is everything to him, and all he could have ever pieced together with careful hands. Itachi is his Test Subject. Sasuke will be the real product. That has been the plan since he learned Sasuke was significantly less talented than Itachi was, and that Itachi was in love with-)
"That's right. On agreeable terms, I will not." (Presses his hands onto the straight jacket's material.) "And my terms are as they have always been." (Because Madara does not change much, and that is what makes himself and Itachi identical entities.)
Itachi's hands are clenched and shaking with rage.
And it delights him.
(Because Madara's hands are not Shisui's hands - he was not the one with his fingers pressed too gently against this once-thirteen-year-old's cheek, even though he watched it all through the rain like some sort of sentient being. Watched the way Itachi's eyes closed, feathery lashes sticking together under the eaves, as Shisui kissed him once, twice, gently. Madara knows cruelty when he sees it, because he is used to being in rooms filled with metaphorical mirrors.)
And to this day, Madara knows that the moment wherein Itachi remembers the way he killed his best friend will be the moment wherein he breaks completely, and then Sasuke will be completely his, and Itachi
will be completely broken.
(The mind is a strange and complex thing.)
His smile widens.
(I could love you sometimes.)
- And kisses Itachi's cheek. (But I'll tear you apart someday.) Stands up and unzips his pants, and the noise is slow and expected, stringing Itachi's shorter hair as he takes it out, and there's something horribly - "Now." (-wicked about him, but if it were to be analyzed, this is not at all much different from when he had sex with Itachi prior to conviction. Itachi, then, was just significantly more eager to pleasure him. Things come and go in that way.) Tightens his fingers and rips Itachi's head forward.
Sheathes himself inside Itachi's perfectperfect little ivory mouth.
Feels twenty out of thirty two perfectperfect little ivory teeth (every tooth that can reach) grip him with a tearing pressure - he forms the rhythm himself so that his nephew cannot keep proper purchase on him, cannot get enough of a grip to cause him real damage. He forces Itachi's head up and down, forces himself in further than he would usually get if this darling little nephew of his was willing, plunges deeply into Itachi's perfectperfect little ivory throat and plunders him for everything he is worth. (Scrapes memories from his mind with a chisel. There are so many that most people would forfeit all hope of every getting rid of all of them, but Madara finally has Itachi backed into a corner where the only thing the boy can do is run backwards. And eventually - eventually, and Madara is more than patient enough - he will run out of space to run. He will be out of memories to hide in. And then Itachi will be his completely.
Even though most would say that Itachi is already his completely.) Itachi bites him hard at the base; Itachi is trying to be all teeth even when the back of his throat is supple and clenching around the head of Madara's cock. Even when the back of his throat reveals the same thing that Itachi's clothing did six years ago. (A thirteen-year-old that since eleven had been learning to make his body speak for him, that, without even understanding the full ramifications of the danger he was in, had lain splayed and naked at Madara's nonexistent mercy. A thirteen-year-old that could say with his limbs "fuck me, fuck me" even when from his mouth, no such words would ever be uttered. Madara knows that Itachi will never like sex. Has never liked sex. Would've gone his whole life without it if it wasn't for him. And Madara knows what a tragedy that would be. Because Itachi's whole body is tight and flexible and perfectperfectperfect.)
And Madara groans deeply as Itachi attempts to tear him apart, but he is pushed far too deeply down his throat for the barely present amounts of pain to be of any notice to him because Itachi's tonsils clench around him, and the tremors of him almost-gagging are just as they were before, if maybe a little less intense since then because his mouth is larger and he has grown. (Forces him up and down and it's rough and it's violent because Madara does not believe in regret and has many things yet for Itachi to understand. Because even now will Itachi listen to Madara speak and let himself be manipulated, because if one were to give him ten minutes, he could easily convince his nephew to escape from the sanatorium. Itachi would find a way out if Madara told him it was imperative for him to do so.)
Itachi's rage is vibrant and absolutely sane around his cock.
(Every flame. Everything. Every scrape of the tooth and clench of the muscles and swelling of the tonsils - Itachi has not changed because Madara has not changed. They have only spent the time locked away to think about what can be done and what can be erased. Madara has erased much of Itachi, in that time, but Itachi has erased a great deal more. Time and memory does not exist when it ceases to have point or meaning.) In, and out. (Ruthless. Rage. So, so cruel.)
The thing that so many people (his own little brother) would say about Itachi and in a way they are correct but in so many other ways they are wrong wrong wrong, because only the part of Itachi that is one with Madara is cruel. Everything else is simply sick and dying. Everything else is perfectperfectperfect.
Itachi is not a child.
He is a criminal.
And Madara has leashed him here for his own very sane and very cruel means.
(People have always feared God to be a wrathful entity, and expected him to punish to souls of sinners and demand that others repent. People fear God far more than love him, and it is Itachi who sits somewhere in between those lines, because the God who controls his existence is unforgivingly wrathful and terribly loving. Madara is a person of many souls, of course. Itachi is one of them, just as Shisui was one of them, just as Sasuke will soon be. Madara, the eternal manipulator, who has not aged in body since he was twenty but ages in mind with every day's passing.) Itachi's hair is tearing beneath his fingers, easily removed from malnutrition and deterioration of the hair follicles from within his scalp, and it is like (-"You're so young, Madara-kun. Why do you ask those questions?" "I have never been young.") - nothing.
Everything.
(In and out. Grits his teeth and continues to pull Itachi forward and backward by his hair until he abruptly holds him forward, hard, as deep as he can go within his throat before letting his release into him. Madara is so cruel, and Itachi cannot fight him for it because he sold his soul to him too long ago for a revoked contract.)
Itachi cannot fight him and so instead he chokes, his face shaking with the amount of effort he has to exert to not let his eyes close. He has not closed them yet, he has not ever trusted Madara the way he once trusted Shisui. He has never broken eye contact.
(Even though he listened to Madara and did not,
"You mustn't be near him, Itachi-kun."
listen to Shisui.
"Madara-oji is too dangerous for you to deal with, now.")
He does not swallow it. He refuses.
Itachi's pride is steadfastly sewn onto the back of his brain stem and Madara has never been able to rip it away. Itachi is a Prodigy and will never have humility, will never allow himself to be so disgraced as to swallow Madara's cum, will never allow himself to break eye contact, even as his face is being fucked who-knows-how-many-times.
His eyes do not close.
His gaze does not break.
Madara retracts, allowing Itachi to spit out what hadn't already made it down the back of his throat with a fairly amused expression (-because Madara does not glut in sex. He does not find it to be the most pleasurable of acts, but he knows it's terribly degrading, and the more there is, the more whomever he's taking the time to tear apart at the time will become his entirely. He'd started with Shisui, of course, but then Itachi began to show the genius brewing in his lovelylovely skull, and so he's fucked the skin covering that lovelylovely skull so many times at this point that he knows that-) Everything. (Madara knows everything. There isn't anything in specific about it. He knows. Everything. He needs to know. Always.)
Picks up Itachi's hips and jerks him onto his stomach.
(Open your eyes, someday.)
But if a person is blind, what does it matter if their eyes are open or not?
(Madara knows how far Itachi's illness has progressed because he is the one who performs all the tests. Itachi knows how far his illness has progressed because of how hard he must fight just to see anything nowadays - not even discernible shapes, but such simple things as color, or light.)
Fight, fight, fight.
Itachi twists, cannot use his arms and so instead uses his whole body so that it collides with bony vengeance; his own bones press against him, a thin and brittle pressure, and he grunts softly, frustratedy. He is so agonized in his very existence, his uncle torments him and so he is tormented.
Itachi haunts himself.
Knees Madara in the side hard as he's moved.
(And he grunts, loudly, the sharp pain traveling quickly about his hips, and it is both of his hands that lace together and come down, hard, at a point in Itachi's spine. The spine is a weak element of the Human Body by nature, and the fact that it's laced entirely with nerves rectifies the fact that is not something meant to be damaged, and so the pain is a hot one that shoots up Itachi's back as Madara pulls his legs apart, propping him up on his knees and working easily with the material, as Itachi is not even permitted to wear drawstrings, and the elastic is too loose to cause any kind of strangulation without excessive force. The whole of Itachi's existence has been proofed to make sure his existence is not there.)
Itachi's body is thin and relatively fragile, though his legs have more remaining muscle than anywhere else.
(And Madara spends only a second or two sucking on a couple of his fingers before pressing them both in, ruthlessly, at once. Madara has always had a lot of patience, but in the same way he has so much of that does he rarely let it last.)
Madara has been waiting for Itachi for a long time.
(Itachi, who strangles himself again, visibly, surging forward, craning his neck to bite deep and hard into the flesh of his uncle's throat where it hangs so hauntingly above his head and so Madara works deep enough, thrusts deep enough to feel Itachi's jaw go slack when his body spasms. Itachi, who chokes and clenches around him deliciously, unwillingly, fighting him still, trying to both draw him in and force him out, and Madara can see into his mind, can see the only voice Itachi truly possesses screaming at him through those eyes.
GetoutgetoutgetoutofmegetoutofmeI'llkillyou-)
Madara can hear it.
(Madara has always been able to hear Itachi's voice. Madara was the only person who listened to Itachi with keen interest during the boy's silence, and that is why Madara knows. He is not a mind reader or anything of that notion, but just an extremely good listener, and he is so very much not blind as the rest of the Uchiha clan has grown to be that with time-) Stretches his fingers, pressing hard into the spot that every time it is brushed Itachi loses his voice entirely and stops being able to think at all, and in that notion is everything as it should be. Stretches him and pushes back and forth into the spot until Itachi's screams are far too loud and far too violently desperate (killyou) that he removes them, raising Itachi's hips further and dipping his head slightly between his legs, tongue flicking at the stretched muscle slightly and hands working up and down his- (I love you sometimes.) -cock with relative familiarity and gentleness. (It'll always be there.) Madara's tongue swirls around the area, patiently, opposing hand returning to it and pressing back inside along with his tongue, and he twists and fingers him until he's entirely satisfied with how much Itachi cannot stop shaking. Itachi can find no purchase against the floor and so he is rocked uncontrollably - he cannot help but find himself in whatever position Madara wants him in.
(But eventually, you know, I'll tear you apart.)
Madara knows everything, most of all that the tongue is a muscle and relatively short in comparison to his own deceptively long fingers - but he cannot fit his tongue around them and so they have been jerked out so that he can fill the space as he sees fit. Itachi writhes beneath him, so much out of disgust but that perfect little sliver of glass Madara is driving into his stomach will be the fatal one. Itachi is fighting his eyes, is fighting his own body now, and Madara knows (everything) that that will be enough for him to come out victorious. Itachi knows it too - knows that if he focuses on anything but fighting Madara his uncle will win - and inevitably-
He knocks Itachi's legs wider apart, twists his tongue delicately and feels the nineteen-year-old sieze; feels Itachi's body strangle itself, racked with pleasure and nausea, feels as Itachi's restrained arms, perfectly cut nails tear desperately into his thighs, making perfect little crescents in the skin. (Milk. Ivory. The palest snow, not even vibrant enough to reflect sunlight. Itachi is a marble statue. A beautiful work of art.) Feels him tremble as he nearly bites through his lower lip; Madara is flat against him, his tongue buried as deep as it can be, his mouth open against Itachi's perfect artwork body, his teeth just as perfect, his heat mindbending.
(The risk that might break you - you have no idea what you're dealing with.)
Itachi, who is making no sound, and is still screaming.
Itachi, who is fighting a battle he has already lost, just like every time before.
There are so many reasons there are no cameras installed in this room.
And so it is entirely abrupt that Madara pulls away from him, sitting up more and positioning himself a bit more cleanly, and he knows that Itachi will be difficult to penetrate because he always has been (and they don't ever change), and so he lowers Itachi's hips just slightly, to his own level, and forces himself in hard, and it Itachi's (eyes that are screaming. Madara cannot see his mouth, but Itachi's lips are most likely clenched horribly together, trying with all of his power to constrain any noise and any relative weakness, but that is impossible in the same way Itachi killing Madara is impossible.) - body the jerks, hard, clenches, a strangled noise that comes out either way, and Madara's fingers dig into his hips are he adjusts himself for a few seconds before pulling himself out and just as roughly pushing himself back inside, and there is no kindness or gentle anymore because Madara came for one reason, and it was not to have sex with Itachi.
(No cameras. Not a single one. There is a large one-way window on the opposite wall, but when authorized officials like Madara are in the room personally, Itachi is not under anyone else's surveillance through it. It is rather funny, to Madara, that this is the case, considering Itachi is considered a highly dangerous and criminally insane patient, but the medical field will usually do all that they can to do nothing, especially when dealing with the more annoying of their workload. Especially with a killer who's become as infamous as Uchiha Itachi.)
But then, Madara finds it funny and encourages it at the same time. (If he is inside of this room, he is to be inside of it alone, without eyes on his back. The window was installed to torture. He knows the way Itachi is paranoid, knows the way his nephew so loathes being watched, most especially by instruments of Madara's device.
If he is inside of Itachi, he is not to be disturbed.)
And Madara is always somehow inside of Itachi.
It is how he knows that Itachi will always bend to him.
(Because Madara can make him bend.)
Because Madara can make him do anything.
(That is his greatest gift.)
He holds Itachi's hips steadily, though his grip is tight and Itachi is tight - Itachi's body is godly and it spasms and tightens around Madara just beautifully, and so Madara is entirely still for a moment, savoring the delicious body beneath him and Itachi's blatant agony - savors it as if it were something holy, and after a few moments of appreciating Itachi for all of his beauty does Madara return to his almost animalistic sadism, stroking in and out of his younger nephew with a kind of violently demented look about him, because Madara can have anything he so desires, and Itachi is just one of the many offerings. (Sasuke is a far more elusive desire, at this point, but Madara is not thinking of Sasuke but only Itachi because it is Itachi's body that is wrapped so tightly around his cock and Itachi's body that will, in the end, give him everything he wants.)
It is not Madara's immortality that makes him so ferocious.
It is that because he is immortal, so is his mind.
(Itachi is not - Itachi will only be this young for so long and that is the one thing Madara truly cannot stand about him whatsoever. The largest and most consequential tragedy in the world is that Itachi's beauty cannot last forever. It is proof that Madara might be Itachi's God, but there is another out there, who would damn Madara to never truly getting everything he ever wanted. There is another who has given Itachi a disease so that he might be forever preserved in what will be his premature death.)
This boy beneath him will die and so avenge his parents, his grandparents, his lover, and his precious Sasuke. This boy who is Madara's perfect little harbinger, his nephew by his brother's oldest son, Fugaku, whose body they never found. (Fugaku, who was the only person in the Uchiha family Itachi just might've killed himself, if left to his own devices. Fugaku, who so inspired his brilliant oldest son to withdraw so far into himself that he took a step backwards, and there was Madara, waiting to drag him so deeply into the water that he would never escape.)
Itachi is a powerful swimmer.
But he is drowning in his own mind, now.
(Drowning and roiling and twisting but so, so deathly still, except for the obscene rock-forward, followed by the obscene rock-back. Madara is moving for him and his legs are shaking and there is a pressure at the back of his throat that makes him think that he might be about to vomit. The idea is so disgusting to him that he clenches down even harder and he feels Madara's dick twitch inside of him as he does so, and the sensation is scathing. This is so incredibly degrading, the way his knees and the left side of his face are pushed into the floor; the joints are sick with noise, with an ache, and his cheek is sticking slightly, as it slides back and forth, and he vaguely wonders if either will be rubbed raw. He doesn't know.
Itachi is not Madara.
GETOUTOFME. GETOUTOFMEYOUSICKSONOVABITCHI'LLKILLYOU. I'LLKILLYOU.)
But you won't. That's your worst flaw.)
And Madara can absolutely taste Itachi's disgust, his antipleasure and his hatred and absolutely anything and everything he can do to make Itachi loath this more because loathing is what makes anything and everything happen. Manipulation helps, of course, but for any event in the world to occur there has to be some amount of pure and irrefutable hatred behind it. It will always be Madara's words that quietly told Sasuke that he must hate Itachi with all of his being. Madara's words out of Itachi's perfect, pretty-) gasping (-mouth.) Can't breathe. (It's too deep.)
Grabs Itachi's hips and pulls him forward, forcing all of himself completely inside of him - as much as he can before letting the pressure go and pulling back outwards. (Over and over. Madara did not come here to rape Itachi and they both know that, but all lessons must be learned. Madara will always be Itachi's teacher, if nothing else.) And slams back in. (You won't kill me no matter how many times you scream it.)
Madara could beat Itachi to death and never shame him as much as this.
("You'll never grow as a warrior if you cannot first defeat your ego, and bring an end to pride's mastery over you.")
The point is to grind him down until he is nothing except a pure element; to dissect him until only his perfect body and flawless mind remain; to take him apart all at once and then sew him back without his reservations or his opinions or his personality in tact. (Never all at once - everything is a slow process. But Madara has the time to do it. Madara has the time and Itachi does not, even though Itachi's internal clock is still intact, constantly ticking away the effervescent minutes that encompass his internment here.)
The point is to humble him so completely that he cannot help but feel as the threads attaching his pride to the back of his brain as they loosen and deteriorate. He cannot help but feel his mind and body as they go through the steps of dying.
(It is the yakuza policy of removing the pinky finger when one has made so terrible a mistake as-)
Itachi's jaw is clenched so tightly that it begins to hurt him and his breath is keeping the tempo of Madara's thrusts. (Madara can feel it through his back.) When the elder of them is completely inside, Itachi is simultaneously being completed and torn viciously apart.
(He cannot defend himself.
Or his pride.)
Because Madara is far too cruel on far too many levels.
(Itachi was built to fall apart in someone's hands. Far better his than Shisui's. Madara's hands are larger and better equipped to catch the doll parts and force them back together just the way he wants it. Itachi is absolutely famous for being able to take anything and make a weapon out of it. Madara, however, is not famous for what he can do concerning Itachi, and that's to say, absolutely everything.) Out, and in, and he groans because Itachi feels so good it's almost painful. (-Madara knows Itachi's head. Every thought, every feeling, and every cell developed - Madara knows it all because he has programmed Itachi to think very much like himself. So cruel.)
Madara knows that Itachi is right on the verge of cumming because of how tight his muscles are clenching, because of how much almost-unintended resistance is presented him as he entered. Itachi is smart enough to conserve his effort and try to force Madara out only when he is inside when he is beneath him like this, so long as he is in control, so it is evident that he is losing control when it is just as hard to enter him every single time. It is evident in the way his thighs shake.
(Execution.)
A perfect ten.
Because Madara is exactly right.
Two strokes in and Itachi cums, almost dry, shaking with rage and more emotion than the most insightful psychiatrist could ever elicit from him. Itachi cums gaspingly, his heartbeat pausing for the explosion, the detonation of his mind, and his pretorn lip splits cleanly.
Blood spills onto his chin and onto the floor.
(And Madara's is exactly 3/40th of an hour after Itachi's, which is really only a few minutes, violently into Itachi's body until he is entirely done and pulls out of him with ease. Madara, who has absolutely no problem at all with doing such a thing to him because it means Itachi will continue to grow. Itachi is of very little use to him dead, while Sasuke is an entirely different story, and that was half of Madara's reasoning for Itachi to kill the clan. For a point, he needed the child to get rid of them, and for the less obvious other, he needed Itachi in a place where he couldn't be allowed to die, and so it is he personally who supervises Itachi's care in the sanatorium. Mikoto and Fugaku's children both have their own uses carved out for them.)
Replaces his pants, and speaks calmly, speaks terribly and without true voice.
"About fourty-five minutes ago, your brother's flight in from Korea landed. He is going to obtain a gun shortly after departing from the airport and intends to come here and kill you. I've arranged for the lighter security to be in hold today so he can get through. Doing to him what I just did to you will substantially increase his chances of hitting you one of the four times he will fire the gun in your direction. Killing you will save his life and, more importantly, his mind, but the likelihood nonetheless is that after killing you he'll probably turn the gun on himself. You have four minutes and thirty five seconds to think before he is finished being patted down by security."
Itachi's breath hitches and Sasuke's steps echo cleanly as he scares birds from the pavement. (The older shudders. The younger clenches his fists.)
"Madara-"
A cruel smile
that is the words
Think
faster.