To Fly with Soiled Wings

Warnings: Yaoi, Abuse, rape, sadism, torture, drug use, suicide attempts, possible character deaths. There's a ton of twists and turns in this story. Think of it like a rollarcoaster, you have to hold on tight for this ride.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. This disclaimer will last for the rest of the story, thank you!

This story will also be in Deidara's point of view.

I shivered in fear. What was I afraid of? I'm not sure yet, but I'm sure I'll know soon. I'm blindfolded. The fabric is so tight on my face that I can't even open my eyes. Like it would make a difference; I won't be able to see anyway. My hands were tied together in the front, resting on my bare chest. I don't know if my pants are off or not, though. I am totally not aware of my surroundings. I just woke up like this. For a second, I thought I had that thing where you can't talk or move for a temporary amount of time. What was that called? Well, I can move. I know that. I twitched my finger slightly. The thing is, I don't want to move. I'm scared of moving. It was silent in the room. I wish I knew what time it was, and where it was. I don't think I'm outside. I can't be dead, either, because I've had this happen to me before, I think. I really don't know anymore.

A door shutting behind me made me jump slightly. Shit.

"Ah," came a voice, "you're looking good, Deidara-chan." I hate when he calls me that. I'm a man, damnit! I pretended I was asleep. "I know you're awake, Deidara-chan." He said. I hoped he thought I really was sleeping. "Talk, bitch." He's getting annoyed with me. "Are you awake?" I stayed silent. A sharp pain crawled onto my cheek quickly. He slapped me! "So tell me, are you awake?"

"Yes." I replied. I'm not stupid.

"How come you never answered me when I first asked? We could have avoided that slap."

"I'm sorry, un." I nearly say.

"You're sorry?"

"Yeah." I say cautiously. He starts touching me, gliding his fingers over my chest, then to my stomach, then to my- nope. I'm not wearing pants, or underwear, for that matter.

"Show me how sorry you are."

"I silently breathed in. "H-how?" I managed to stutter out. Great. He knows I'm afraid.

I could hear a zipper. Then a shuffling noise. I brace myself.

"I know you like the feeling of my dick in your mouth." He says smoothly, "right?"

I froze. I don't know what to say. Do I lie? Or tell the truth and risk the consequences? I decided to stay silent. I was still trying to make up my mind.

Luckily, it sounded like he wasn't looking for an answer. He climbed on top of me. I could feel him. I could feel his dick hanging above my face, everytime it touched me I could feel pre-cum on the tip. He put it on my lips, and I slowly let him in. I knew not to bite him or I'd get severely beaten. Like, almost to death. At first, I just simply kept him in my mouth. I didn't really know what to do at first. It was kind of awkward. I just settled for swirling my tongue around, because he grabbed onto my hair, pulling harder and harder as the seconds past.

So there I was, swirling my tongue on his dick like a submissive little bitch. His hold on my head lightened, but I still felt horrible.

I started gagging. He was thrusting deeper into my mouth, causing me to gag too much. It felt like I was going to throw up. Maybe if I did, he'd get disgusted and go away. Maybe he'll somehow get an infection, or something.

I didn't throw up, much to my disappointment. I tried ignoring what was in my mouth and tried to focus on my surroundings instead. I moved my foot slightly. I think I was on my bed. Probably.

He was moaning now. I could just feel him smirking every time I gagged. Without warning, he emptied himself in my mouth. I coughed, choked, and gagged some more. He laughed.

"Aren't you glad your mom's not here?" He asks, un-tieing my hands.

"Where is she, un?" I asked quietly.

"Not here, obviously. I don't know when she'll be back." He put his hand in mine.

"So," he says, "listen very carefully, Dei-chan. We're going to play a special game today." I hate him. "It's called 'do it yourself'." I really hate him. "You know what that means, right?"

"Yeah, un." I mumbled quietly.

"Good. Now get to work. Mommy could be here any minute." He said darkly, putting my hand on his dick. I gulped. This will be very disturbing on my part.

"C-can I get the blindfold off? I won't be entirely accurate with it on."

He thought for a moment. "Alright. I want to see your eyes when I do this." He said. I took my hand away from his length, concentrating on the blindfold. I could feel his stare. I fumbled a couple of times, unable to untie it. Finally, I just tried taking it right off. It hurt my face a little bit, and almost got tangled in my hair. I opened my eyes slowly. It was dark still. I glanced around the room. My room. I then glanced at the clock. 1:32 AM. Where was mom this early? I looked at the intruder with brown medium length hair. He had cold, dark brown eyes. I knew this mans body so well, and I hated him so much. Who is this horrible man? My step-father.

"What the hell is taking so long?" He asked impatiently.

"Sorry." I muttered. I inhaled deeply, positioning myself on top of his lap. I lifted myself, pretending I was sitting on an invisible chair. I grabbed his erect member slightly. "Can I at least lubricate it?" I asked. Why did I bother? He liked me in pain.

"Nope." I quietly sighed. "Hurry the hell up. I'm getting tired." He's one to talk. I'm tired too. I have school in, like, eight and a half hours.

I positioned his member lightly on my entrance, breathing in deeply. I slowly lowered myself, taking him in. I gasped at the horrible feeling. Lots of times I have been forced to do this 'special'. If I didn't go deep enough, then he'll do it himself, making me bleed all over. Considering the last times 'consequences', I decided it was better if I was obedient with this 'game'.

I put him in slowly, and took him out. He's getting impatient, he's pulling my hair. I go faster and faster until I can't bear it anymore. He's moaning. At least he's having a good time. It feels like my ass is being torn apart. I'm waiting for him to cum, so this will all be over with. I even came once, just out of pure intensity. He probably thought it was because of the sensation of having him inside of me. I put him in deeper, bucking up in hopes that'll finally do it. It did. He moaned loudly, tightening his grip on my hair. I pulled him out. I can feel liquid seeping out. No surprise that there's probably blood.

My whole body is covered in sweat. I never liked this feeling at all. I don't know why freshly sexed up couples could look so happy full of sweat. I suppose this would be different, considering we are definitely not a couple. I'm more of the weak, submissive, sex-toy-bitch-whore and he's the strong...dominator. It makes me sick thinking about that.

I get off his lap. I think he's satisfied, he must be. He's getting up now. I try not to make eye contact. I had a thought, and had to voice it. He never liked when I spoke unless he was speaking to me.

"Why...?" I mumbled.

"What?" We made eye contact.

"Why are you always doing this to me?"

"Why?" He smirked. "I thought you knew already." I shook my head. " You remember that accident, right? Well, every since that accident, you've been a useless reject. Your left eyes vision is gone, and now the whole world knows about those disgusting mouths on your hands." He paused, doing up the zipper on his pants. "I'm just doing you a favour and helping you out because we all know that the only way for you to make a living is to whore yourself out." He laughed deeply. "You should be grateful I didn't convince your mother to put you up for adaption, or worse yet, sell you."

I hid myself in the covers and covered my ears. It was a hard task considering my mouths kept licking my ears. I didn't want to hear anymore of this. I'm sorry I asked.

I waited for a bit in silence, uncovering my ears and listened for any signs he might still be there. I was met by silence. I peeked from my covers. I guess he left. I attempted to sit up, only immediately lying back down again. It had really started to burn.

I got up slowly, regardless of the pain, to turn my light off. On the way there, I glanced at the clock. I shut off the light, enclosing the room in darkness.

I almost tripped trying to get back to my bed. I got under the blanket and breathed in the unpleasant smell of cum, sweat, and blood. I cringed. The mix made it smell rusty and metallic. I didn't like it at all. I'd have to change it in the morning, before mom ended up seeing it. I don't know what would happen if anyone found about what 'he' has been doing to me. Something bad, probably. Maybe, if they see the blanket or the evidence from another forced rape, he'll say I was jacking off in my bed to some of his porn magazines, or when they're both out, he'll say someone sneaked in and we had some kind of masochist sex or something. He'll find a way to make himself innocent, blaming everything on me. I guess he has a reason to put the blame on me, though. If he gets caught, he'll get arrested for sure. What's going to happen then? He'll stay in jail, and when he comes back, he'll say it was my fault and rape me hard and painfully. Or possibly kill me?

Mom would be really sad, too. Maybe she'd blame it on me, hate me, and disown me? When dad died in the accident, a couple months later she started dating again, and found love again. She'll be crushed if both the people she loves would be out of her reach. She loves him, so I can see her getting rid of me. Whatever.

The alarm clock went off at the right time, bit it seemed way too soon for me.

I sighed. I needed to have a shower, and hide the blankets until I had enough time to wash them. I also needed to eat breakfast, pack my bags, do my hair, and finish the homework I probably forgot to do.

Shower first. Then hide blankets. Then breakfast, hair, bags, and homework for last.

I stepped into the steamy shower. I've always hated having to shower in the morning. I don't know why. It just sucks.

The feeling of water running down my skin was nice, but I could never, ever get the feeling of 'him' touching me. How desperately I wanted it off. I began to rub my body with a sponge, using a shit load of soap. It's not going to work. But can't blame me for trying, right?

I sighed again. Stupid attempt. Getting out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my hair. Taking another one, I dry my body with it and leave it on the floor. Cleaning the bathrooms are 'his' jobs. I try to make it as hard as possible. Even if I have to stuff toilet paper in the toilets, and make them over flow.

Breakfast time. I sighed quietly. What if he was down there? I'll pretend nothing happened. I'm good at pretending. No problem.

I put on some pants and made sure my head towel wouldn't fall off. I decided not to wear a shirt. It wouldn't be able to fit over top of the towel.

After I was dressed, (sorta) I quietly made my way downstairs, one step at a time. I headed to the table and looked around the room to find no one was there. Mom was probably sleeping if she had such a long night. I don't know about 'him' though. I looked in the fridge, trying to find something that looked appetizing in the morning. Usually nothing does. I hate eating breakfast. Today I still couldn't find anything that looked good. I slammed the fridge and cupboard doors loudly.

"Be more quiet." 'He' snapped.

"Sorry, un." I replied. He stared at me. It was like one of those weird blank, but analyzing kind of stares. It creeped me out.

"Wouldn't want to wake your mother, would you?" He asked, inching forward.

"No, un." I inched back, glaring at him. I really can't handle him touching me this morning. I had school.

"Of course not." He said. He put his hand on my cheek. Then he's like, "your check is kind of red. Are you blushing?" He was smirking.

"No, un. You hit me." With that, I slapped his hand away. "School." I muttered, then ran back upstairs. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.

I ran upstairs, getting my bags organized. I lost the little appetite I had. I sighed lightly and put on my school uniform.

I looked out the window, my bags in hand, and calculated a way to get out of the house without using the door. So basically, through the window.

I found a safe-ish route and jumped out. Once I was safely on the ground, I threw my bag in a bush. I'm not going to school today. I'm sore, I don't feel like walking around the hallways, and I just don't feel like handling people today. I'm feeling...emotional.

I started walking in the direction of school. Of course, I had no intention of actually going there. I walked along the road, trying to decide where I should spend the day. I settled for the park, they always seemed to calm me down a little. Usually, there were never any kids there, maybe a couple, but never any students- which I'm glad about.

I sat underneath a tree and closed my eyes. I guess I fell asleep, because before I knew it, I was being poked violently on the arm. "Ow, un." I said quietly.

"What are you doing here, brat?" I froze and looked over to the source of the voice.

"Um..." Panic overtook me. I thought 'he' found me, but it was just a red head staring passively at me. Still, cautiousness is safeness. He came a little closer. I backed up. A lot. He came closer, I went farther. I think he got annoyed at me or something, because he grabbed my wrist and brought his hand to my face. Oh no. I flinched and pulled my wrist out of his grasp, and pulled away from his touch.

"What's wrong, kid?" He asked, confused.

"Don't hurt me, un." I said softly. I'm such a wimp sometimes.

"I'm not going to hurt you, kid." He said gently. Just those words made me relax a little.

"Promise?" I asked weakly, looking up at him.

"Yeah," he said, "promise."

I apologized for being so rude. I mean, I can't help it. I hate people. They're all tortuous haters. All of them. I've lived for sixteen years and the only nice soul I have seen is my mother and father. And one is dead.

"Relax." I said, "What's gotten you so freaked out?"

"Sorry," I apologized again, "You just...scared me."

"Right." He said, "Why are you here? You have a uniform so don't you have school right now?"

"Yeah, I, uh, accidentally fell asleep, un." There's truth in that tiny lie.

"Then go back to school." He replied, sitting next to me.

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"No," I pressed, "I can't. Not today."

"Why not?" He asked.

"See this bruise on my cheek?" I asked, staring at him, "do you?" He nodded. "Then the other kids will, too."

"...what's your name, kid?"

"Iwa Deidara." I replied, staring at the swings. "Yours?"

"Akasuna Sasori." He looked at me.

"So what's so bad about the kids seeing a bruise on your cheek?"

"Nobody likes me at school," I said quietly, "I look to feminine, but my voice is deep. Nobody would care at all if I just suddenly disappeared. They would probably have a party, yeah. They'll look for anyway possible to pick on me." I looked down, examining the mouths on my palms. In my rush, I forgot to put gloves on. "It's also because of these." I say, sticking my hands in front of Sasori's face. Righty's tongue whipped out and licked Sasori on the cheek, causing him to wince slightly. "Sorry, un." I mutter, "They have minds of their own." Silence over took the conversation. "It's okay," I whispered, "you can hate me if you want." He had to lean in to hear me.

"I don't hate you, Dei. I was just surprised."

"D-did you just call me Dei, un?

"Sorry, do you not want me to call you that?"

"No, it's fine." I smiled slightly. I think I like Sasori calling me Dei, but never 'him'. It's only okay when Sasori says it.

"Good." That's all he said. I wasn't really sure what else to say, so I changed the subject.

"So why are you here, un?"

"I was on my way to my apartment."

"Oh. Where is it?"

He pointed down the walking path of cement. "Down there."

"Oh." I reply. I kept looking in the direction that he pointed, trying to see if I could spot it. Of course, I had no clue what it looked like so it was impossible. "I live in the opposite direction, un." He nodded his head.

There was silence again. I wanted to keep the conversation up, maybe just to distract him from making me go to school. "So what kind of things do you like?" I asked, my blue eyes staring into his brown eyes.

"Hm..." He thought for a moment, "I like art, especially puppets."

"Art, un?" I smiled, my eyes felt like they were gleaming. "I do too!"

"Yeah?" He asked. I nodded happily. Art truly was my passion, it made me feel happy about my life, and made me forget.

"Un! I like explosions a lot. Like, fireworks."

"Fireworks?" He asked, "that's not true art. It's only there for a second, and then it's gone. Art is always there."

"No, un," I argued, "art is fleeting! Something so flashy and colorful that it'll be pressed into your mind forever!"

"No." He disagrees with me. Of course, he's wrong. "Art is eternal."

"It's not!"

"Yes, it is."

"No, un!"

Sasori sighed deeply. "I got to go, brat. You're annoying the hell out of me with your fucked up view on art." He stood up and began walking.

"Eh? It's your view on art that's giving me a headache!"

"Whatever, brat. Don't skip anymore school. Maybe school can fix your ridiculous 'art is fleeting' belief." He paused.

"Fuck you, Sasori!" With that, he continued walking down the concrete path. I considered following him to know where he lived, but uh, that seems kind of stalker-ish...

I sat in silence, staring at the path Sasori was on just a few seconds ago, but now he's long gone. I hadn't taken my eye off of it. I quickly snapped out of it though, and turned my attention to my hands. I watched Righty and Lefty's tongues dart out. I put my hands closer to each other, and the mouths automatically touched tongues. It felt...good. Very good. But I'm sure it would be nothing compared to a real kiss with love involved. And I mean love. Not lust. Compared to what I've been through, I know very well that love and lust are definitely not the same thing.

The only emotions I remember feeling are pain, hate, shame, depression and loneliness. So many negative emotions.

I want to feel happiness.

I want to feel love.

I can just hear you saying: "What?! Hurt my poor Dei-chan in the first chapter?! You bastard!" Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but this story will have many characters hurt. I'm trying to make this story deep and thoughtful. Do you think I'll need a beta? Also, did I get Deidara and Sasori's personalities pretty good?

Review!