My first attempt at Naruto fanfiction after spending a long time in the
Beyblade fandom. Needed to give leave to some of the weird ideas that have
been running around in my head. .
Pairings: OroSasu, one sided KabuSasu, slight KakaSasu in later chapters WARNINGS: Yaoi, rape, torture, violence, swear words, implied sex, etc etc.
Stockholm Syndrome - Part One
'How long have I been here?'
It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he awoke in the morning from fitful, restless sleep. Days and nights had melted together in murky, muddy blur, and weeks seeped into months without his noticing. During the first torturous days of his captivity, he had attempted to keep track of time with small, unnoticeable scratch marks on the dark wood of the bed post, but over time and through exhaustion, he had fallen out of the habit. When he last counted, there had been 57 notches chipped in the bed.
In his eyes, it didn't matter anyway. His life had become a monotonous cycle of pain and misery; a constant, living nightmare. His stubbornness and pride had ebbed away with time and slowly, the once determined and unshakeable boy had given in to hopeless abandon. He did have any hope of being rescued. Ever since that bloody attack on the village...he couldn't even be sure there still was a Konoha. In hindsight, he regretted going off by himself to slow the next wave of enemies advancing on the village, but pride in himself and pride the Leaf had overridden rational thought.
Not that it would have made any difference, he often pondered. No matter where he had been fighting, the Hidden Village of Sound had been determined to have him.
For all he knew, Konoha thought he was dead. Sure, there had been no body, but after such a violent and chaotic fight...he would be surprised if everyone he knew considered him to have killed in action.
Rescue was out of the question, and not once did his weary mind entertain the thought of escape. His weapons had been taken away immediately upon being carried, half- conscious, into the enemy village, keep under lock and key and returned to him only when he went into the forest to train under the watchful gaze of the Sound army. To them, he was a threat that needed to be closely monitored at all times. Moreover, he was, in a sense, a prisoner of war, and therefore very valuable to the village. He could not be allowed to escape, nor could they allow him the oppertunity to take his own life.
Orochimaru was particularly obsessed with keeping him unharmed. To him, Sasuke was a precious commodity that needed with the utmost care. He was never to be allowed to train alone, where he might suffer accidental, or intentional injury. Within weeks of his arrival, the Snake began to show signs of severe obsession with the boy, and began to develop a strange jealousy. He refused to allow anyone beside the boy's guards to even cast Sasuke so much as a passing glance. Friendliness and even courtesy became misconstrued as flirting, and soon the Sennin was convinced that it was not only he that lusted after the former Leaf nin. Kabuto became the only one Orochimaru trusted alone with the boy.
As Sasuke stretched on the white sheets, stained with blood and sweat, he again tried to decide how many exhausting nights he had spent in that bed. The sheets were thin, barely covering his slim, nude body as he buried his head in a flat pillow. He could suffocate himself, he figured, but never found himself able to go through with it. The pillow smelt vaguely like his lover's hair, and he inhaled deeply, disgusted that he had grown accustomed to Orochimaru's scent.
He was alone in bed, his lover having left sometime in the early morning hours, allowing the rare privilege of sleeping late. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture sleep with little success. As tired as he was, his body recognized it as morning and remained alert. His breathing slowed, growing deeper as he forced his tense muscles to relax.
There were soft, indistinct voices attested of his door, and he groaned. He could recognize one of the voices as belonging to Orochimaru, and thanked his luck that the man wasn't often interested in sex so early in the morning. He stretched out further in the bed, listening more closely to the voices. Part of him enjoyed hearing the slimy voice of his lover, but at the same time he was repulsed. The man was his captor, and he was his prisoner more than anything else; a fact he was never allowed to forget.
TBC
Short first chappie. And kinda slow moving as of yet. Not sure if I'm going to continue with this, mainly because I have so many other neglected fics right now. .; Feedback is appreciated, so please leave a review and let me know what you think. .
Pairings: OroSasu, one sided KabuSasu, slight KakaSasu in later chapters WARNINGS: Yaoi, rape, torture, violence, swear words, implied sex, etc etc.
Stockholm Syndrome - Part One
'How long have I been here?'
It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he awoke in the morning from fitful, restless sleep. Days and nights had melted together in murky, muddy blur, and weeks seeped into months without his noticing. During the first torturous days of his captivity, he had attempted to keep track of time with small, unnoticeable scratch marks on the dark wood of the bed post, but over time and through exhaustion, he had fallen out of the habit. When he last counted, there had been 57 notches chipped in the bed.
In his eyes, it didn't matter anyway. His life had become a monotonous cycle of pain and misery; a constant, living nightmare. His stubbornness and pride had ebbed away with time and slowly, the once determined and unshakeable boy had given in to hopeless abandon. He did have any hope of being rescued. Ever since that bloody attack on the village...he couldn't even be sure there still was a Konoha. In hindsight, he regretted going off by himself to slow the next wave of enemies advancing on the village, but pride in himself and pride the Leaf had overridden rational thought.
Not that it would have made any difference, he often pondered. No matter where he had been fighting, the Hidden Village of Sound had been determined to have him.
For all he knew, Konoha thought he was dead. Sure, there had been no body, but after such a violent and chaotic fight...he would be surprised if everyone he knew considered him to have killed in action.
Rescue was out of the question, and not once did his weary mind entertain the thought of escape. His weapons had been taken away immediately upon being carried, half- conscious, into the enemy village, keep under lock and key and returned to him only when he went into the forest to train under the watchful gaze of the Sound army. To them, he was a threat that needed to be closely monitored at all times. Moreover, he was, in a sense, a prisoner of war, and therefore very valuable to the village. He could not be allowed to escape, nor could they allow him the oppertunity to take his own life.
Orochimaru was particularly obsessed with keeping him unharmed. To him, Sasuke was a precious commodity that needed with the utmost care. He was never to be allowed to train alone, where he might suffer accidental, or intentional injury. Within weeks of his arrival, the Snake began to show signs of severe obsession with the boy, and began to develop a strange jealousy. He refused to allow anyone beside the boy's guards to even cast Sasuke so much as a passing glance. Friendliness and even courtesy became misconstrued as flirting, and soon the Sennin was convinced that it was not only he that lusted after the former Leaf nin. Kabuto became the only one Orochimaru trusted alone with the boy.
As Sasuke stretched on the white sheets, stained with blood and sweat, he again tried to decide how many exhausting nights he had spent in that bed. The sheets were thin, barely covering his slim, nude body as he buried his head in a flat pillow. He could suffocate himself, he figured, but never found himself able to go through with it. The pillow smelt vaguely like his lover's hair, and he inhaled deeply, disgusted that he had grown accustomed to Orochimaru's scent.
He was alone in bed, his lover having left sometime in the early morning hours, allowing the rare privilege of sleeping late. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture sleep with little success. As tired as he was, his body recognized it as morning and remained alert. His breathing slowed, growing deeper as he forced his tense muscles to relax.
There were soft, indistinct voices attested of his door, and he groaned. He could recognize one of the voices as belonging to Orochimaru, and thanked his luck that the man wasn't often interested in sex so early in the morning. He stretched out further in the bed, listening more closely to the voices. Part of him enjoyed hearing the slimy voice of his lover, but at the same time he was repulsed. The man was his captor, and he was his prisoner more than anything else; a fact he was never allowed to forget.
TBC
Short first chappie. And kinda slow moving as of yet. Not sure if I'm going to continue with this, mainly because I have so many other neglected fics right now. .; Feedback is appreciated, so please leave a review and let me know what you think. .