Dark Obsessions
Rating: PG-13ish
Fandom: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Read it to see
Summary: An obsession can change even the most grounded of persons.
Dark eyes watched the screen, impassive, intense in their nature as hands slid across broad shoulders as she flattened herself against his back, supple curves molding against his shape in an easy rhythm. He hated her. She had taken his mind, lead him astray, walked him down the traitorous path that he now walked. One hand slipped in a daringly slow pace a little lower, fingertips walking down his chest like small spiders intent on their distraction before larger and more calloused fingers catch that same wrist in a grip hard enough to bruise, hard enough to make her breath catch in a hiss of pain as she pulls against him.
Eyes with the intensity of burning embers catch her guileless blue eyes and hold the gaze momentarily. He could kill her, crush her wrist and leave her wounded in the wake of his own destruction should he so choose to do so. For he knows those same innocent-seeming blue eyes are anything but. Behind their flawless and clear colour lurks a demon, a seductress. Not the innocent-seeming girl the surface shows to the world. And in that moment before the mask of innocence breaks away and shrewd calculating light plays into her face, he can remember how it was at first. How she skillfully wove her web of lies around him too tightly for escape.
He hates her, but at the same time he realizes he can't let go of her. The sultry glow descends into her eyes at that moment, and she tugs half-heartedly at his grip with a sensual pout, asking if he's going to be this rough tonight. With a scowl and a curse, he releases the bruised arm to shove her away from him, turning his attentions back to the screen in front of him. But it is a futile effort, as he knows that he will seek her out come nightfall. Seek out her searing touch and the intoxicating way their bodies twine together. The way she submits so utterly to him yet holds him in such thrall.
For she is not merely a woman, at least not to him. She is a drug, an addiction. Dark and thick in his mind, overshadowing all sense of right or wrong. He kills for her, betrays for her, and all the while he loathes himself for it. Loathes the way his body betrays him in it's desire for her, the way his voice betrays him in it's impassioned moans as she works her ministrations on him at night, the way even his heart betrays him when he has her pinned down by a hand wrapped around her throat, seething hatred burning in brown eyes, yet impotent against the power she holds over him. It was for her that he betrayed, that he followed. Turning his back on life, on family, on loyalties. Following her song as children to a piper, stomach turning at the wrongness the whole way, yet unable or perhaps unwilling to break the spell she has wrought over him.
He has destroyed for her, burned bridges he would have wished to revisit, all in a twisted and maligned effort to keep the intoxication burning with an obsessive passion in the back of his mind. And as much as he loathes and detests himself to admit it, he can neither deny that beneath the obsession, beneath the loathing and the hatred and the raw lust and desire, there is a spark of real feeling. Perhaps it began as sympathy for the plight of the captive he guarded, or perhaps even that is a lie, carefully fostered by the temptress who even now returns to drape herself over him again, hot tongue tracing small patterns on the back of his neck as she pulls his ponytail loose to comb long, talented fingers through it.
Eyes roll closed with a small groan for a moment as his head leans back and he allows himself to forget the hatred and the violence for a mere fraction of a second. Imagines that they are different people, in a different scenario. That she is merely another girl, he another boy, and that there is real love woven through the heated and heavy desire, real caring lacing the possessiveness.
But it is, afterall, only a whispered scrap of thought, and he is soon pulling from her grasp with an irritated and terse word, attention once more on the screen as he pulls out a quill and puts ink to scroll. Rolling it up, he stares for a moment at the symbol emblazoned on the parchment, that of a simple music note. He hates that symbol, loathes it almost as much as he loathes the siren who holds his mind in thrall. For that sigil symbolizes all that he lost, all that he gave up to his own obsession. And yet…it is the symbol he serves, the one he must follow.
For her. Because she wished it, and she asked it, and he fell powerless to her sway, as evidenced by the slash that mars the symbol affixed to one arm, the swirled leaf viciously obliterated by the harsh jagged mark. Brushing fingertips across the scroll one last time, he folds his hands into a simple gesture, fingertips touching, forming a cage of sorts as those same black-brown eyes return their attention to the screen. It was not the time for regrets. It was the time for strategy. The Shadow-walker had fallen, and the Leaf would now burn.
OK, to explain this little ficlet, I must first explain it's origins. This came about due to a discussion that a friend and I had regarding what Orochimaru could have done differently in his attempts at destroying Konoha and we came down to one definite conclusion. And that is that Sasuke was not the ideal candidate to 'turn'. Certainly he's powerful, and the Sharingan makes him formidable. But there were certainly other choices Oro could have taken. And after much debating we came to the conclusion that, had Oro taken Shikamaru, his victory would have been assured. Shika is a tactical genius, with his mind on the side of Sound, there would likely have been no screwups. This idea fascinated us to the point where we tried to work out a reasoning behind Shikamaru turning against his village and turned into an RP session. The girl in the ficlet is based off of my friend's OC who shows up in different forms in different fandoms and RPs that we do. In her Naruto-form, she is usually an Oto-nin. This the idea of the fic above was spawned. The "backstory", if you will, is that she was captured and imprisoned. When Shika was assigned as her guard, he made the mistake of letting his guard down and talking to her/getting close to her. Not initially out of any sort of romantic feelings, but more out of simple interest and fascination. But she used that to her advantage to foster what soon became a raging obsession. And by that point, it was simple enough to convince him to release her and follow her back to Oto. But as you can see, he's not unaware of what he's done, and his obsession with her wars with his hatred for her for turning him into a traitor. But that aside, the end result is the same. With Shika on the side of Oto, Konoha doesn't have a chance.