Kingdom Hearts: "Needing"
Featuring: Namine/Roxas, some Namine/Sora implications
Rating: R for sexuality
Timeline: Day Six of KHII
Words: 756
Some fairly enormous spoilers on Roxas's identity. So, don't read it if you haven't gotten to Memory's Skyscraper, really. Maybe not until you're at the final boss. Also? This is not the happiest semi-smut in existence. What can I say? Despite the claims of fandom, Namine/Roxas isn't a fluffybunny pairing.
HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY, kay_willow! I promise you something not-miserable shortly! ♥
Needing
When the idea first occurred to her, Namine dismissed it out right. Just thinking about it was enough to make her feel guilty. How could she ever actually go through with it?
But then Riku left and the days went by and she was alone with only his sleeping body and her own thoughts and the idea stayed there in the back of her mind, a shadow slowly growing. A bittersweet temptation.
Soon she found herself thinking that, after all, it needn't be permanent. She could do it and then undo it very quickly. And afterwards, when she put everything right again, neither one of them would have to remember. It would be hers and hers alone, a single moment of bliss to cling to when she had nothing else.
And to have someone really want her, to have someone really touch her, to have someone really make her feel anything at all in the sterile white room...
She knew just how she would do it. She would fill his dreams with pictures of her, images of the two of them together, her bare body trembling softly and his hands like careful explorers, gentle, responsive, coaxing ecstasy from her attentively. Show him what to do, and when, and how fast; guide him to all the secret places where no one else had ever touched her. When they finally met, he would know just how to please her.
She could make it exactly what he wanted, could make it the thought that consumed his every waking moment. She had done it before.
And Roxas was so much like him, wasn't he? His other half.
Her second chance.
Her first chance.
Because with Sora, she'd had to take somebody else's place, build everything around feelings for somebody else, but Roxas would have no one like that, especially not once they were through with him. And she was in charge of that "restoration," the euphemism that meant feeding him pieces of Sora until he was enough like Sora to not mind so much if he had to be sacrificed for the greater good--
Nothing like who he had been. Nothing like any Nobody.
What they were doing was already brainwashing. A little more, and he would fight for her, cry for her, the way Sora had. And DiZ never paid much attention to the memories she chose...
Maybe she couldn't make him love her. But she could make him think he did.
Then Riku came back, but he wouldn't look at her anymore, and to DiZ she was nothing but a reminder of a mistake he had made once.
It would be so very, very easy, and she was so desperately alone.
Just a few hours, she told herself. Roxas -- Sora -- they could spare that much, couldn't they? Maybe she wouldn't even have to make them forget. Maybe Roxas would understand, maybe he would feel the emptiness too, maybe he would look at her the way Sora had, impossibly forgiving, impossibly caring...
It was so very, very easy.
Only then she went to see him. And everything was wrong.
Because the desire in his eyes was her own reflected back at her, and the way his lips parted, the soft hungry sound that came out of him when he reached for her, they were familiar, too. Because his tongue in her mouth had no taste.
Because she'd seen him before, in the hazy distant past, on the day she woke cold and naked at the edge of the real Twilight Town.
He had been beside her then, but asleep he'd looked so different, so much more vulnerable than the boy they called XIII. She hadn't realized, hadn't seen it through the distance and distortion of the monitors, hadn't recognized Roxas as being half of Sora, but half of her too.
She couldn't respond to his urgent kisses, but she couldn't pull away from him, either -- not even when the sickness rose in her almost unbearably. It was her fault, after all. Her callous manipulation that now made his hands slick with sweat as he tugged her white dress gently, so horribly gently, up her thighs.
Her fault.
And even in the midst of it, as she turned her head and closed her eyes and tried not to cry because he'd said once that it was easier on him if she didn't cry--
--it was still nice to feel something.
(she would erase his memory later, if only she could erase her own)
Anything at all.
Rating: R for sexuality
Timeline: Day Six of KHII
Words: 756
Some fairly enormous spoilers on Roxas's identity. So, don't read it if you haven't gotten to Memory's Skyscraper, really. Maybe not until you're at the final boss. Also? This is not the happiest semi-smut in existence. What can I say? Despite the claims of fandom, Namine/Roxas isn't a fluffybunny pairing.
HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY, kay_willow! I promise you something not-miserable shortly! ♥
Needing
When the idea first occurred to her, Namine dismissed it out right. Just thinking about it was enough to make her feel guilty. How could she ever actually go through with it?
But then Riku left and the days went by and she was alone with only his sleeping body and her own thoughts and the idea stayed there in the back of her mind, a shadow slowly growing. A bittersweet temptation.
Soon she found herself thinking that, after all, it needn't be permanent. She could do it and then undo it very quickly. And afterwards, when she put everything right again, neither one of them would have to remember. It would be hers and hers alone, a single moment of bliss to cling to when she had nothing else.
And to have someone really want her, to have someone really touch her, to have someone really make her feel anything at all in the sterile white room...
She knew just how she would do it. She would fill his dreams with pictures of her, images of the two of them together, her bare body trembling softly and his hands like careful explorers, gentle, responsive, coaxing ecstasy from her attentively. Show him what to do, and when, and how fast; guide him to all the secret places where no one else had ever touched her. When they finally met, he would know just how to please her.
She could make it exactly what he wanted, could make it the thought that consumed his every waking moment. She had done it before.
And Roxas was so much like him, wasn't he? His other half.
Her second chance.
Her first chance.
Because with Sora, she'd had to take somebody else's place, build everything around feelings for somebody else, but Roxas would have no one like that, especially not once they were through with him. And she was in charge of that "restoration," the euphemism that meant feeding him pieces of Sora until he was enough like Sora to not mind so much if he had to be sacrificed for the greater good--
Nothing like who he had been. Nothing like any Nobody.
What they were doing was already brainwashing. A little more, and he would fight for her, cry for her, the way Sora had. And DiZ never paid much attention to the memories she chose...
Maybe she couldn't make him love her. But she could make him think he did.
Then Riku came back, but he wouldn't look at her anymore, and to DiZ she was nothing but a reminder of a mistake he had made once.
It would be so very, very easy, and she was so desperately alone.
Just a few hours, she told herself. Roxas -- Sora -- they could spare that much, couldn't they? Maybe she wouldn't even have to make them forget. Maybe Roxas would understand, maybe he would feel the emptiness too, maybe he would look at her the way Sora had, impossibly forgiving, impossibly caring...
It was so very, very easy.
Only then she went to see him. And everything was wrong.
Because the desire in his eyes was her own reflected back at her, and the way his lips parted, the soft hungry sound that came out of him when he reached for her, they were familiar, too. Because his tongue in her mouth had no taste.
Because she'd seen him before, in the hazy distant past, on the day she woke cold and naked at the edge of the real Twilight Town.
He had been beside her then, but asleep he'd looked so different, so much more vulnerable than the boy they called XIII. She hadn't realized, hadn't seen it through the distance and distortion of the monitors, hadn't recognized Roxas as being half of Sora, but half of her too.
She couldn't respond to his urgent kisses, but she couldn't pull away from him, either -- not even when the sickness rose in her almost unbearably. It was her fault, after all. Her callous manipulation that now made his hands slick with sweat as he tugged her white dress gently, so horribly gently, up her thighs.
Her fault.
And even in the midst of it, as she turned her head and closed her eyes and tried not to cry because he'd said once that it was easier on him if she didn't cry--
--it was still nice to feel something.
(she would erase his memory later, if only she could erase her own)
Anything at all.