~~~disclaimer. I don't own Inuyasha. Rating is for language, nonconsensual
sex etc. I don't personally feel it merits an "R," but it never hurts to be
on the safe side, no? third disclaimer -- I've never seen the show, only
read the manga in translation. I guess this fic would take place sometime
after the current chapter : 311? Yeah. That's plausible, I think.~~~
Naraku howled in frustration as his body spasmed and writhed against the pit that contained him. Yes, it was that time of the month again. Another month, another unsuccessful attempt to tear out the last shred of Onigumo's heart from his being. His diverse components flowed and seethed with malignant force as he concentrated, bringing together a piece of this demon, a snippet of this one-- yes-- maybe that combination would do it. With an echoing scream of agony, Naraku's newest detachment spewed forth from the primordial ooze that was the hanyou's true form.
"Shit." One of Naraku's many throats uttered succinctly. They/ he/ it could feel a tiny fraction of tenderness lurking somewhere within their body. Once more he'd failed to completely rid himself of that thrice cursed human heart. A gooey miasmic tentacle reached up to snare the still screaming monstrosity that he had so recently birthed, and with a few powerful wrenches, pulled it apart, to be rapidly reabsorbed into Naraku's main body. No sense wasting raw materials, after all.
Goddamn that Priestess bitch! Naraku snarled silently. How often had he tried to eliminate the meddlesome corpse, only to have Onigumo's worthless Human heart interfere? The bitch was an impediment to his goals, and worse. .. . she was one of the few who possessed the capability to actually hurt him.
"I will have her dead!" the words violently ripped from half a dozen of Naraku's throats.
(I will have her) Echoed silently deep within.
"I will shred her flesh to bits!"
(and make love to her bones. . .)
Naraku chuckled silently at the last reverberations of Onigumo's sentiments.
"Now that, I can live with."
It was strange really, though Onigumo refused to let Naraku send the undead priestess back to the death she so rightfully deserved, the emotion he felt for Kikyo couldn't really be called love. It was far too twisted a passion for that. Obsession, lust, and hatred all warred within that corrupted shell. And over all, presided the near-overpowering need to posses her, to control her. For her, he would assemble the Shikon no tama, and use its dark powers to complete the corruption of her once-pure soul. Only for her.
All for her.
Naraku snarled silently at Onigumo's dark dreams, as dawn approached, and his protoplasmic form finally began to coalesce and condense once more into his favored humanoid shape.
"Well, that was a waste." He remarked to no one in particular, as he stood wearily, at the bottom of his melting pit. Once more he'd failed to produce a viable detachment to carry on his work. What was that now? Three months, maybe four, since he'd managed to birth any functional offspring? It was all Onigumo's fault! Fucking weak human half! If he could just get his mind off that pathetic excuse for a female, for once, then maybe, just maybe he could get some work done. It's not as if it was an easy task, trying to corrupt the world, and all. You'd think Onigumo'd understand that, and let him concentrate in peace.. .. But oh no. . . That last little shred of soul was always yammering on, about Kikyo this, or and Kikyo that." Gods it made him sick!
Yeah, Naraku was in quite the pissy mood as he stormed out of his dungeon. If he couldn't make a worthwhile replacement, he was just going to have to rely on that untrustworthy Kagura again.
Naraku's eyes narrowed as he considered his eldest and most independent child. She'd returned two days ago, with defiance in her eyes, and a sneer on her lips, despite the fact, that she was bleeding from numerous wounds, and could hardly walk. Plainly, while she was supposed to be out policing his domain, shed been off sucking up to more powerful demons again -- and by the look of it, as usual, failing to win their support. . Would the bitch never learn her place? Well, she was in the dungeon for disciplining now. .
Naraku licked his lips. Discipline. That was something he never tired of -- the sweet sounds of his offspring's screams of agony, the intoxicating scent of her blood -- his blood really, dripping down his fingers. . . the impotent look of hatred and fear in Kagura's eyes. . Ahhh. . Naraku paused in mid-stride, and headed back towards the deeper parts of the castle. Sleep could wait. Now, yes now, was time for pleasure.
-----
Kagura hung wearily from too-familiar manacles. This particular dungeon was in danger of becoming monotonously familiar. The damp cold of the stone walls had long since numbed her spine, and even the painful dig of the heavy irons on her wrists and ankles had ceased to bother her. Sure, it hurt like hell. But this kind of pain was nothing to what she fully expected to receive at Naraku's "loving" hands, and so she forced the constant sting of bloody skin, and ache of bruised muscles back to the bottom of her consciousness, while she focused on her one goal, and only obsession: freedom.
Admittedly, she could just have torn these chains off the wall, and fled from the castle. She was sure she was strong enough for that. There was no way these crumbling walls could withstand the force exerted by an angry demon-- or angry half-demon for that matter. But that would have been a mere short term victory. Short term, like useful for maybe the next five minutes or so, maximum. No. She needed to get her heart back. That was all that mattered. If she only had her own heart, in her body where it belonged, then she'd gladly kill Naraku herself. So what if she was once part of him? The asshole deserved to die as excruciating a death as she could devise. . . . But first, she needed her heart. .. Kagura had no idea how to obtain it, so she had no choice but to hang here and await Naraku's pleasure.
She didn't have to wait much longer.
-----
Naraku strode into the dungeon with a jaunty stride.
"Ah. . Kagura. . " He purred maliciously, "And how are we doing today? Still hanging in there I see?" Yes, even this most evil of hanyous had been known to stoop to low punning at times.
Kagura fixed him with a glare so heated it would have vaporized a lesser being into ashes and component water molecules.
Naraku just laughed, and with a flick of his wrist produced an all-too familiar object from . . . somewhere.
"Now don't be like that, my dear." Naraku admonished, casually flipping the pulsating heart into the air and catching it one handed, "Is that any way to greet your Master?" The last comment was punctuated with a brief squeeze of the disembodied organ in his grasp.
Though her body spasmed in agony at the sudden constricting pressure in her chest, Kagura refused to give Naraku the satisfaction of her screams. She had no choice but to obey his commands in other matters, but in this, she would not yield.
"Really, now." Naraku eyed his recalcitrant detachment with the beginnings of true irritation. "You're becoming as silent as Kanna. I think we're just going to have to do something about that. Hmm?" He lifted one eyebrow questioningly, not that he really expected a reply, and while his suddenly hard eyes locked on Kagura's, he brought her heart to his lips and licked slowly up its quivering surface. Kagura's entire body shivered with chills at the sensation, and at the foreknowledge of what always came next. . . Naraku let himself bite down on one ventricle-- not quite enough to break the heart's muscle, but quite enough that Kagura spasmed in pain, her manacled body thrashing even more painfully against the unyielding wall. He bit harder, this time drawing blood, enjoying the utter agony warring with the hatred in her eyes. He watched as a trickle of blood leaked from Kagura's lips from where she'd bitten herself to prevent any screams from escaping.
Naraku could feel himself heating up. The power he had over this pitiful creature before him was almost as intoxicating as the scent of her blood in his nostrils. He regarded the blood on Kagura's heart, the blood dribbling down her chin. He wanted to hear her scream. Wanted to hear her pant her submission, and her fear. Of Him. He squeezed the heart longer, harder; his eyes growing bright as Kagura's involuntary spasms inflicted new damage on her already wounded body. She gasped in agony. But still, she would not scream.
Naraku stepped closer to his disobedient offspring, "Why will you not scream for me, my lovely? When you have such a beautiful voice?" His hand reached out to stroke her cheek, as she glared venomously back at him. The caressing hand slipped lower to trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck. . . he could feel her shivering at his touch, the involuntary tensing of muscles giving away her fear, even if she allowed no expression but hate to cross her face.
Kagura watched in despair, as Naraku vanished her heart back to wherever it was he usually hid it.. . . What came next was usually the worst part of her punishments. But she would be strong. She had a role model now-- one who undoubtedly would have been displeased by the comparison-- but nevertheless it was true, Kagura was teaching herself to be as imperturbable, as calm, as strong, as the great Sesshoumaru-sama. And so Kagura once more refused to scream as Naraku's deceptively gentle caress slid down inside her kimono, while his other hand undid the ties that held it shut.
Kagura tensed, as her clothing slid open. For now, Naraku's caress grew suddenly violent, as his nails raked the sensitive flesh of her breast and ribs, drawing blood. She could do nothing to stop the violation, chained as she was, to the wall. If Naraku got close enough, she'd bite him, though she knew from experience, that'd only bring her more pain. All she could do was strain against her chains and plot revenge, while trying to ignore the violations Naraku perpetrated upon her.
But it was really damned hard to ignore the pain as he indulged his baser desires; nipping at her nipples until he drew blood; licking the blood up like mother's milk. She could feel him pressing against her, his arousal growing and strengthening as he bit and scratched and licked, until at last he undid his trousers and buried himself inside her unwilling, unready body. And this time, Kagura couldn't prevent the whimper that fell from her lips.
Naraku heard the whimper and grinned, slamming his offspring harder against the wall. He loved the sound of her pain, the way her body trembled in fear and hatred. His lips were sticky with her blood, his fingers too. She was tight and hot around him, and he knew that each thrust brought her more pain. Oh gods, if only this were Kikyo! How he'd love to have that one spread-eagled beneath him; her purity clouded by his seed inside her; her virginity torn from her as painfully as he could devise; her icy perfection marred by his teeth, his claws. Naraku's breath came harder and faster; panting as he neared his climax-- buried in his detachment, dreaming of the undead.
Kagura bit back a sigh of relief as she felt Naraku's release. Well, thank the gods that was over. He was always in a good mood after he raped her. Not that he'd consider it rape, of course. After all, technically speaking, she was merely a part of him. Kagura cared little for semantics; she knew what it felt like, and as Naraku pulled his pants back on, she let herself fantasize revenge once more. A revenge that involved cutting off his penis one millimeter at a time and feeding it to him.
"You go back on patrol tomorrow." Naraku's commanding voice cut through her reverie like a knife through butter. "Don't try getting any clever ideas this time. You haven't the brain for it. Remember, bitch, just who you belong to."
As if she could ever forget it. Kagura merely nodded.
Naraku eyed her suspiciously, then shrugged. It didn't matter what she planned, she couldn't do shit to hurt him. Not when he had her heart. And she knew it. "Kanna will let you out in a bit. Don't disappoint me again."
Again Kagura nodded stoically, only allowing her true misery to show after he'd left the dungeon, locking the door behind him. Then, and only then, could she let her whole body go limp, ignoring the agony of the manacles that supported her weight, as she shuddered and sobbed, letting the tears that dripped from her cheeks onto her naked chest leave little tracks in the slowly drying blood that adorned her skin.
As long as she lived, there was hope for freedom. But sometimes, she really did wish she could die.
To be continued.
~~~A/N:: hey there folks! I started this here fic as a break from my usual genre. Needed to get some hardcore angst out before my HYD fics got any more fucked up then they already are. So let me know if this story is worth continuing? 'cause fiik. Reviews Reviews. And yes. I adore flames! So feel free to mock to your heart's content, and I will sit here laughing. ~~~
Naraku howled in frustration as his body spasmed and writhed against the pit that contained him. Yes, it was that time of the month again. Another month, another unsuccessful attempt to tear out the last shred of Onigumo's heart from his being. His diverse components flowed and seethed with malignant force as he concentrated, bringing together a piece of this demon, a snippet of this one-- yes-- maybe that combination would do it. With an echoing scream of agony, Naraku's newest detachment spewed forth from the primordial ooze that was the hanyou's true form.
"Shit." One of Naraku's many throats uttered succinctly. They/ he/ it could feel a tiny fraction of tenderness lurking somewhere within their body. Once more he'd failed to completely rid himself of that thrice cursed human heart. A gooey miasmic tentacle reached up to snare the still screaming monstrosity that he had so recently birthed, and with a few powerful wrenches, pulled it apart, to be rapidly reabsorbed into Naraku's main body. No sense wasting raw materials, after all.
Goddamn that Priestess bitch! Naraku snarled silently. How often had he tried to eliminate the meddlesome corpse, only to have Onigumo's worthless Human heart interfere? The bitch was an impediment to his goals, and worse. .. . she was one of the few who possessed the capability to actually hurt him.
"I will have her dead!" the words violently ripped from half a dozen of Naraku's throats.
(I will have her) Echoed silently deep within.
"I will shred her flesh to bits!"
(and make love to her bones. . .)
Naraku chuckled silently at the last reverberations of Onigumo's sentiments.
"Now that, I can live with."
It was strange really, though Onigumo refused to let Naraku send the undead priestess back to the death she so rightfully deserved, the emotion he felt for Kikyo couldn't really be called love. It was far too twisted a passion for that. Obsession, lust, and hatred all warred within that corrupted shell. And over all, presided the near-overpowering need to posses her, to control her. For her, he would assemble the Shikon no tama, and use its dark powers to complete the corruption of her once-pure soul. Only for her.
All for her.
Naraku snarled silently at Onigumo's dark dreams, as dawn approached, and his protoplasmic form finally began to coalesce and condense once more into his favored humanoid shape.
"Well, that was a waste." He remarked to no one in particular, as he stood wearily, at the bottom of his melting pit. Once more he'd failed to produce a viable detachment to carry on his work. What was that now? Three months, maybe four, since he'd managed to birth any functional offspring? It was all Onigumo's fault! Fucking weak human half! If he could just get his mind off that pathetic excuse for a female, for once, then maybe, just maybe he could get some work done. It's not as if it was an easy task, trying to corrupt the world, and all. You'd think Onigumo'd understand that, and let him concentrate in peace.. .. But oh no. . . That last little shred of soul was always yammering on, about Kikyo this, or and Kikyo that." Gods it made him sick!
Yeah, Naraku was in quite the pissy mood as he stormed out of his dungeon. If he couldn't make a worthwhile replacement, he was just going to have to rely on that untrustworthy Kagura again.
Naraku's eyes narrowed as he considered his eldest and most independent child. She'd returned two days ago, with defiance in her eyes, and a sneer on her lips, despite the fact, that she was bleeding from numerous wounds, and could hardly walk. Plainly, while she was supposed to be out policing his domain, shed been off sucking up to more powerful demons again -- and by the look of it, as usual, failing to win their support. . Would the bitch never learn her place? Well, she was in the dungeon for disciplining now. .
Naraku licked his lips. Discipline. That was something he never tired of -- the sweet sounds of his offspring's screams of agony, the intoxicating scent of her blood -- his blood really, dripping down his fingers. . . the impotent look of hatred and fear in Kagura's eyes. . Ahhh. . Naraku paused in mid-stride, and headed back towards the deeper parts of the castle. Sleep could wait. Now, yes now, was time for pleasure.
-----
Kagura hung wearily from too-familiar manacles. This particular dungeon was in danger of becoming monotonously familiar. The damp cold of the stone walls had long since numbed her spine, and even the painful dig of the heavy irons on her wrists and ankles had ceased to bother her. Sure, it hurt like hell. But this kind of pain was nothing to what she fully expected to receive at Naraku's "loving" hands, and so she forced the constant sting of bloody skin, and ache of bruised muscles back to the bottom of her consciousness, while she focused on her one goal, and only obsession: freedom.
Admittedly, she could just have torn these chains off the wall, and fled from the castle. She was sure she was strong enough for that. There was no way these crumbling walls could withstand the force exerted by an angry demon-- or angry half-demon for that matter. But that would have been a mere short term victory. Short term, like useful for maybe the next five minutes or so, maximum. No. She needed to get her heart back. That was all that mattered. If she only had her own heart, in her body where it belonged, then she'd gladly kill Naraku herself. So what if she was once part of him? The asshole deserved to die as excruciating a death as she could devise. . . . But first, she needed her heart. .. Kagura had no idea how to obtain it, so she had no choice but to hang here and await Naraku's pleasure.
She didn't have to wait much longer.
-----
Naraku strode into the dungeon with a jaunty stride.
"Ah. . Kagura. . " He purred maliciously, "And how are we doing today? Still hanging in there I see?" Yes, even this most evil of hanyous had been known to stoop to low punning at times.
Kagura fixed him with a glare so heated it would have vaporized a lesser being into ashes and component water molecules.
Naraku just laughed, and with a flick of his wrist produced an all-too familiar object from . . . somewhere.
"Now don't be like that, my dear." Naraku admonished, casually flipping the pulsating heart into the air and catching it one handed, "Is that any way to greet your Master?" The last comment was punctuated with a brief squeeze of the disembodied organ in his grasp.
Though her body spasmed in agony at the sudden constricting pressure in her chest, Kagura refused to give Naraku the satisfaction of her screams. She had no choice but to obey his commands in other matters, but in this, she would not yield.
"Really, now." Naraku eyed his recalcitrant detachment with the beginnings of true irritation. "You're becoming as silent as Kanna. I think we're just going to have to do something about that. Hmm?" He lifted one eyebrow questioningly, not that he really expected a reply, and while his suddenly hard eyes locked on Kagura's, he brought her heart to his lips and licked slowly up its quivering surface. Kagura's entire body shivered with chills at the sensation, and at the foreknowledge of what always came next. . . Naraku let himself bite down on one ventricle-- not quite enough to break the heart's muscle, but quite enough that Kagura spasmed in pain, her manacled body thrashing even more painfully against the unyielding wall. He bit harder, this time drawing blood, enjoying the utter agony warring with the hatred in her eyes. He watched as a trickle of blood leaked from Kagura's lips from where she'd bitten herself to prevent any screams from escaping.
Naraku could feel himself heating up. The power he had over this pitiful creature before him was almost as intoxicating as the scent of her blood in his nostrils. He regarded the blood on Kagura's heart, the blood dribbling down her chin. He wanted to hear her scream. Wanted to hear her pant her submission, and her fear. Of Him. He squeezed the heart longer, harder; his eyes growing bright as Kagura's involuntary spasms inflicted new damage on her already wounded body. She gasped in agony. But still, she would not scream.
Naraku stepped closer to his disobedient offspring, "Why will you not scream for me, my lovely? When you have such a beautiful voice?" His hand reached out to stroke her cheek, as she glared venomously back at him. The caressing hand slipped lower to trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck. . . he could feel her shivering at his touch, the involuntary tensing of muscles giving away her fear, even if she allowed no expression but hate to cross her face.
Kagura watched in despair, as Naraku vanished her heart back to wherever it was he usually hid it.. . . What came next was usually the worst part of her punishments. But she would be strong. She had a role model now-- one who undoubtedly would have been displeased by the comparison-- but nevertheless it was true, Kagura was teaching herself to be as imperturbable, as calm, as strong, as the great Sesshoumaru-sama. And so Kagura once more refused to scream as Naraku's deceptively gentle caress slid down inside her kimono, while his other hand undid the ties that held it shut.
Kagura tensed, as her clothing slid open. For now, Naraku's caress grew suddenly violent, as his nails raked the sensitive flesh of her breast and ribs, drawing blood. She could do nothing to stop the violation, chained as she was, to the wall. If Naraku got close enough, she'd bite him, though she knew from experience, that'd only bring her more pain. All she could do was strain against her chains and plot revenge, while trying to ignore the violations Naraku perpetrated upon her.
But it was really damned hard to ignore the pain as he indulged his baser desires; nipping at her nipples until he drew blood; licking the blood up like mother's milk. She could feel him pressing against her, his arousal growing and strengthening as he bit and scratched and licked, until at last he undid his trousers and buried himself inside her unwilling, unready body. And this time, Kagura couldn't prevent the whimper that fell from her lips.
Naraku heard the whimper and grinned, slamming his offspring harder against the wall. He loved the sound of her pain, the way her body trembled in fear and hatred. His lips were sticky with her blood, his fingers too. She was tight and hot around him, and he knew that each thrust brought her more pain. Oh gods, if only this were Kikyo! How he'd love to have that one spread-eagled beneath him; her purity clouded by his seed inside her; her virginity torn from her as painfully as he could devise; her icy perfection marred by his teeth, his claws. Naraku's breath came harder and faster; panting as he neared his climax-- buried in his detachment, dreaming of the undead.
Kagura bit back a sigh of relief as she felt Naraku's release. Well, thank the gods that was over. He was always in a good mood after he raped her. Not that he'd consider it rape, of course. After all, technically speaking, she was merely a part of him. Kagura cared little for semantics; she knew what it felt like, and as Naraku pulled his pants back on, she let herself fantasize revenge once more. A revenge that involved cutting off his penis one millimeter at a time and feeding it to him.
"You go back on patrol tomorrow." Naraku's commanding voice cut through her reverie like a knife through butter. "Don't try getting any clever ideas this time. You haven't the brain for it. Remember, bitch, just who you belong to."
As if she could ever forget it. Kagura merely nodded.
Naraku eyed her suspiciously, then shrugged. It didn't matter what she planned, she couldn't do shit to hurt him. Not when he had her heart. And she knew it. "Kanna will let you out in a bit. Don't disappoint me again."
Again Kagura nodded stoically, only allowing her true misery to show after he'd left the dungeon, locking the door behind him. Then, and only then, could she let her whole body go limp, ignoring the agony of the manacles that supported her weight, as she shuddered and sobbed, letting the tears that dripped from her cheeks onto her naked chest leave little tracks in the slowly drying blood that adorned her skin.
As long as she lived, there was hope for freedom. But sometimes, she really did wish she could die.
To be continued.
~~~A/N:: hey there folks! I started this here fic as a break from my usual genre. Needed to get some hardcore angst out before my HYD fics got any more fucked up then they already are. So let me know if this story is worth continuing? 'cause fiik. Reviews Reviews. And yes. I adore flames! So feel free to mock to your heart's content, and I will sit here laughing. ~~~