[Tales of the Abyss] But for Your Pitiful Eyes (1/?)
Title: But for Your Pitiful Eyes
Author: Josie (artistjosie)
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Luke and Asch, predominantly; mentions of and some interaction with most everyone else, however.
Pairing: AschxLuke
Genre: Dark/Angst
Warnings: A fair amount of abuse ... er. And chained!Luke, I guess, if that needs a warning. ... and sex. Again, if that needs a warning. And, no, in spite of how it may seem in this first part, Asch will not rape Luke. Josie is not down with that. Although Luke's consent when that time comes may seem dubious ...
Spoilers? Er ... in this part, only if you've never been to the Desert Oasis; later, only if you've never been to Yulia City.
Summary: How much can a person take before the breaking point? When Luke falls into the God-General Asch's hands, his limits are tested as he's forced to pay for his crime of daring to draw his sword against him, amongst many others.
Notes: Just thought I'd point out a little bit of information on this: the story itself starts from just after the fight against Abaddon in the abandoned factory, and utilizes the very small gap between the party deciding to head outside and the start of the cutscene (the gap being that you're inside one moment, and the very next, you're outside and already at the bottom of the ladder to the ground). It then deviates from the storyline of the game shortly after (even if it does take me more than enough time to get to that point). And no. No, Asch does not play fair at all. And, uh, feel free to question me on any of what I did here. -.- Because I suck at this kind of thing laikwhoa. But hopefully not as much as Luke sucks on Asch. Er, I mean ...
Forwardlink: Part 2
- - -
The factory was dismal at best, but not simply because it had been abandoned for years. There was a gloomy feeling in the stale air of each and every corridor that they'd passed through, made worse by the glares that he could feel going back and forth between his companions. Damnit. All of this is just making me waste too much time. If I don't hurry ... if I don't hurry, Master Van might leave without me, and I'll never get out of this place! I want to go. I want to go with him!
The soft bickering behind him did nothing to improve his disposition (nor had it the entire time they'd been in the damned place, up to and including when they'd run into the Abaddon); it was bad enough that Natalia had blackmailed him into letting her join their unlikely band of peacemakers, but now she couldn't even be bothered to get along with everyone else properly to boot? It all added up to a sickening pounding at the base of his skull - almost as bad as the headaches he was prone to, but not quite anywhere near the same league - that he just couldn't shake. But, in the end, there was nothing for it. He couldn't very well refuse her, or his entire plan would be shot to hell. And he really, really didn't want that. So he'd put up with it, at least until he managed to get to Akzeriuth and eliminated the threat of the miasma. Then he wouldn't have to suffer through any more dank, dismal tunnels or catty girls. For the love of - did Anise just hiss at her? Girls really were an unnecessary headache and a half, he decided. Not that they weren't easy on the eyes or anything, but the attitudes ...
Still, he didn't bother to interfere; it wasn't his problem, after all. Natalia was a big girl, and a princess on top of it; she could take care of herself, he was sure - he probably had the scratch marks to prove it, in fact. All that mattered was getting through the damned factory and then to Chesedonia. Sure, he didn't much fancy the idea of trekking all that way (again), but if that's what it took, then that's what he would do. Besides, Master Van would probably be proud of him for it. It would show character.
Shaking his head slightly, trying to clear it, he let out a deep breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. There was light ahead, at least, which was - if nothing else - promising. It meant they'd be getting out of this place finally. And that was the best thing he could have ever imagined. He felt like they'd been there for ages, even if logic dictated that it had been less than a day, and it felt like it was driving him slowly, oh-so-very-slowly and painfully, insane. Digging his fingers into his hair and pulling slightly, he whirled around before crying out in annoyance, "Would all of you just shut up for a minute?!" He heard Tear's soft 'cluck' of disapproval at his words, but didn't care; he didn't care what any of them thought, really. All he had to do was put up with them for just a little longer, and then he'd never see a single one of them again. Oh, sure, he'd probably miss Guy, but it would be alright; Master Van would be there with him, and he was sure that was all he needed.
"Honestly, Luke!" He cringed as Natalia chastised him, clearly nowhere near being against scolding him for his behavior. Well, she never had been against it, in fact. She was probably the one who called him on his rudeness the most, as much as he resented her for that fact. And it didn't help that she had the upper hand in this situation, since one slip-up from him meant that she was no longer under obligation to keep her end of their little 'bargain.' She stepped up to him, hands on her hips as she looked straight into his eyes. "You truly have no manners whatsoever sometimes; it's shameful, especially for royalty."
He just huffed, waving his left hand carelessly and dismissively as he turned his face away. "Whatever. Let's just go already!"
He didn't miss the suspicious looks that he got. Nor did he miss the strange, almost knowing look in Jade's eyes. But he didn't care, either. Let them think what they want.
Luke didn't bother to wait for any acknowledgement of what he had said, either, before starting for the exit again. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if he even cared if they followed him or not. Yet, as he reached the opening to the outside world and looked at the almost too conveniently-placed ladder that fell from it - at least, it seemed convenient to him, considering that the place had been abandoned; it didn't really register too well to Luke that there was a time where the ladder was probably fairly well-used by the factory's workers - he heard the echoing footsteps of his companions. Oddly (to him, at least), the sound caused a sense of relief to wash over him, but he shook it off quickly as he looked out at the falling rain. Gah ... I really don't like that ...
Turning his back to the outdoors so that he could climb down, he was surprised to find that the rain hadn't really touched the ladder too much, thankfully, so it wasn't too slick and thus he was able to keep his footing on the way. He didn't, after all, fancy the thought of falling flat into the mud below. Still, he was cautious enough as he progressed - as strange as the others might have considered that - all the way until he finally reached the bottom, where he promptly moved out of the way so that everyone else could join him there.
It wasn't until they'd all reached the ground that he started to turn. Before he even managed to focus on what was there, he heard the gasp off to his right; a quick glance at Anise as he continued to turn showed her - and everyone else - staring at whatever was behind him.
Green eyes stared blindly for a moment as Luke's sight adjusted to the scene laid out before him. There, just meters ahead of them, was the commandeered Tartarus. There, before it, were dozens of Oracle Soldiers. There, amidst them, was Ion, held by a soldier on either side of him, prisoner to the same people who should have been sworn to protect him, in spite of the fact that he wasn't even bothering to resist.
There, in front of Ion, was the God-General who had mocked him aboard the Tartarus during their attack on the landship.
Time seemed to slow to a near halt for Luke right then; something possessed him to act, spurred him to rush forward, to draw his sword. Before he even knew what was happening, he heard himself screaming, "Hand over Ion now!" A flash of movement that he almost didn't notice at first signaled that the God-General he was running towards had unsheathed his sword, as well, and, in the same swift motion, had turned to block his almost frantic attack.
Luke was not deterred; adrenaline pumped through him as he pulled back just enough to strike a second time, but this was parried, as well, as was his third attempt at the same. This time, however, both held position, almost weighing each other's ability. And that was when it happened.
In that exact moment, as their blades crossed and held for the third time, Luke felt as though time had rushed back to its normal pace and he could finally see everything clearly once again, although he wished so desperately that it hadn't and that he couldn't. There, before him, he saw green eyes identical to his own on a face that he could only have seen in a mirror. What the - His eyes widened in fear, in shock, and his jaw went slack, if only slightly, as he stared speechless at the young man before him. That can't ... that can't be ... He felt sick, overwhelmingly and horribly sick, and he wanted nothing more than to just run, but he couldn't. He'd come this far, and, besides, Ion was right there, and he couldn't just let this bastard who happened to have his face just leave with him. He couldn't allow for that!
But, even as he was thinking that, he felt the tell-tale sign of the God-General taking advantage of his stunned state, stance shifting and muscles tightening just enough so that he could push Luke back as he stated, "It's you!" He lost his footing just slightly on the wet grass and mud, just barely regaining it before he would fall before straightening up, breathing hard as he held his sword up again in defense before dropping his stance and staring helplessly.
It can't be ... why ... why does he ...
He heard the gasps behind him; he heard Guy scream his name. His mind told him that these sounds were a reaction to what they had seen, not unlike his own reaction. His vision had become blurry - he tried to tell himself that it was simply due to the rain - and he couldn't see anything happening around him, didn't want to see anything around him. He wanted it all to go away, however selfish the desire may have been. He wanted to just turn around and go back home, to shut himself in his room and curl up, and maybe even a small part of him - okay, perhaps a large part - wanted to puke.
He couldn't even see what was happening right in front of him, but he was snapped out of his reverie as a hand grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and pulled him forward roughly. Awareness shot back into him, and he struggled to the best of his ability as an arm wrapped tightly around his body, pinning his own to his sides. "Let go of me, you bastard!"
He felt the other's face move closer before he moved his head just slightly to the side; red hair of the same shade as blood slid over his shoulder, matting down onto his clothes as it became wet and heavy from the rain. A pair of lips pressed against his ear momentarily before a cold voice whispered, "You should feel lucky. I don't usually take prisoners." Said in that stomach-turning kind of a way that told him that what the other boy really meant was that anyone who crossed him, however briefly or foolishly, was long dead.
His struggles renewed as the fear from those words settled into him; why was everyone just standing there?! Why hadn't Jade used any of his fonic artes on these soldiers, or Tear put them to sleep with Nightmare?! Why had ... why had Guy remained still instead of coming to his aid, and why had Natalia not fired a single arrow in his defense? Wasn't he supposed to be her betrothed? Wasn't he supposed to be their childhood friend?! The God-General's grip around his body tightened, and he struggled harder still. "Shut up!" he screamed, finally managing to free his left arm - faintly, he recognized that he must have dropped his sword at some point, as his hand was empty - and punched the young man holding him in the face. A small voice in his mind cried out in triumph for a moment. But only just.
The arm around Luke did not loosen even slightly as the red-haired general turned his head back slowly, angry green eyes glaring into their identical, slightly frightened match. "But you?" he said, voice colder still than before, and loudly enough that his companions could hear the words, as well. "You, I want to break. You, I'm going to enjoy breaking."
"Asch!" someone called out suddenly, warningly; Luke felt the other redhead turn his head slightly, never once letting go of his hold even as he tried once again to break free now that the other's attention was diverted, but there was nothing for it. "Ion takes priority right now."
"Tch. I know that."
Before he knew what was happening, Luke felt himself being pulled forward roughly, towards the Tartarus as the God-General - Asch, he could only assume - dragged him along. He dug his feet into the soggy mess that was the ground as best as he could, fingers gripping at the other's wrist in an attempt to pull himself free even as he looked back towards his companions, one hand reaching out towards them as he screamed out, hoping against any hope, "Guy, help!"
But still, he could see it: not a single one of them moved to his aid. No, even worse was seeing Guy turn away from his plea.
"Shut up, dreck." Even as soon as the words hit his ears, he felt his throat tighten up, and he was pulled roughly back and onto the Tartarus. Helplessly, emerald eyes stared out at his 'friends' - could he even call them that? Had he allowed them to be that? - unable to call to them again as the hatch closed.
And never before in the seven years of his life that he could recall had Luke fon Fabre felt his heart plummet as quickly and as far as it did in that single instant.
- - -
He'd been tossed to a few of the soldiers to be held down once Asch had dragged him further into the landship. They'd manhandled him, gripping his arms tightly as he thrashed and wailed - oh, but did he hate how they'd likened him to an infant at his actions - demanding that they release him at once. They'd simply laughed at his attitude and pulled him off to one of the rooms. He noted that it was larger than the ones he had seen when he had first been on the Tartarus, and could only assume that it would have been an officer's quarters, but that was the most that he was really able to register before he was unceremoniously tossed into the room, landing in a heap on the floor as the door slammed shut behind him. An audible click told him that the soldiers had locked it.
"How good of you to join me." His head was spinning, but that condescending voice broke through to him nonetheless, and his head whipped around - he realized quickly how much of a mistake that was, given his current predicament - so as to glare at his captor. The other young man stood from where he had been lounging on a couch (Luke considered the term used lightly), sauntering over to him and then crouching down so that they were eye-level with each other. "So good of you to not make me wait, dreck. I don't have patience for the likes of you." One gloved hand reached behind Luke, fingers brushing at his scalp and tangling in his hair before he pulled hard, forcing the young noble's head back.
That got him to bare his teeth and growl darkly. "Let go of me!"
"Not a chance." Green eyes studied him calculatedly, scanning over his neck, down to the buttons on his jacket - he could feel Asch's gaze move more quickly over his clothes - and to the exposed skin of his stomach. He could feel the other's gaze slow again as he seemed to drink in what was on display, and it made feel a bit queasy and horribly, terribly exposed. It certainly wasn't the kind of way he wanted his body to be ... 'appreciated.' Luke squirmed a bit, but that only drew a cold chuckle out of the other as his head was pulled back a bit more roughly. "My, my. Someone is certainly unashamed of his body," he said almost admonishingly. "Let's see how far that carries, shall we?"
"What?!" He hadn't meant for it to be the near-squeak that it had ended up as, hated showing any sort of weakness to a bastard like this, but there was no way to take the word back anymore. It was out there, and Asch had most certainly heard it.
But the God-General was silent for the time being, instead using his free hand to undo the buttons of Luke's jacket before pulling it off of him swiftly. "Do I stutter?"
That was too perfect of an opportunity for him to pass up. "You must; it's either that or you're completely insane."
He realized briefly, in that moment, just why Tear called him an idiot so often as the other boy harshly pulled on his hair again. He bent backwards slightly to prevent the alleviate some of the pain in his neck from his head being pulled back much too far, inadvertently making his already too-short t-shirt ride up further. Ow, ow, ow ... let go, let go! He hated the tears that welled up in his eyes from the abuse his poor scalp was being subjected to, and loathed that he wanted to do nothing more than scream, but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a single sound. That, after all, was what the damned general was after, wasn't it? He wouldn't - couldn't - give in to someone like him. If only because Natalia would have my head ...
Gloved fingers traveled down the length of his torso teasingly, tracing the defined muscles on his abdomen lightly before reaching his pants. "What's this?" Asch questioned lightly, yet still mocking. "Feeling shame already, are we?" Luke really had no idea what the other boy meant at first, until he felt the burning of his cheeks - although, whether it had already been there or had just been spawned by the other's comment, he wasn't sure. "If that's so ... you really won't like this." His head was pulled back further, forcing the arching of his spine to become more acute as those fingers danced over his crotch. Luke tried his very hardest to clamp his legs together and curl up in an attempt to force his hand away, but the intent was all for naught, as he couldn't change his position without risking - quite literally - his neck.
He had no choice but to suffer through.
Master ... Master Van ... please help me ...
Asch's touch became a bit more forceful almost as soon as Luke's pleading thought passed his mind - the timing, he was sure, must have been a coincidence - his palm pushing against him. To his horror, Luke felt himself growing hard under the other boy's touch, and the tears in his eyes, no longer simply from the pain, couldn't be contained any longer; he shouted at himself in his own head, disgusted that he would show weakness here, and yet he couldn't even with that thought, he couldn't stop it. They slipped from his eyes, trailed along his temples en route to dripping to the floor as he thrashed his head ever-so-slightly. "Let me go ..." He could have kicked himself for how weak the words sounded. "Let me go, or I swear I'll -"
"- do absolutely nothing," the God-General interjected. "Do you really think you can fight me?" Another sharp tug on his hair; Luke cringed as an unbidden whimper escaped him, but then Asch's grip loosened, and his hand turned to cradle the back of his head. He leaned forward, over Luke's body now, slowly and almost gently lowering him down to the floor, his other hand sliding to one of Luke's thighs and pushing down as he settled between his legs. His entire manner - from his smirk to his narrowed, calculating eyes to the way he kept himself forebodingly over Luke's body - seemed to say that he found the entire situation particularly amusing.
Luke shuddered as Asch's hand crept back up his thigh, bringing his arms up in an attempt to push the other boy off of himself, but all that he succeeded in doing was drawing the other's attention to the fact that he still had the free use of his limbs. Something that he quickly took care of by removing his hand from the back of Luke's head and grabbing onto his wrists, pulling his arms up and over his head before pressing them down to the floor. Shamefully, Luke turned his face away, clenching his eyes shut to avoid having to watch a face that mirrored his own twisted into such a distorted parody of himself. To avoid having to watch the expression of a man who - evidently - took pleasure out of the horrors he inflicted onto others.
He felt something tickle his cheek just moments before hot breath washed over his ear. The other boy bit him, not exactly hard but certainly not gently, before whispering, "Don't deny yourself; you know how much you really want this." He applied pressure to Luke's growing erection, and his captive gasped, eyes shooting open as he thrashed under the young general, trying to dislodge him from his far more advantageous position. "Dreck like you can't possibly hope to hide from the truth for too long. Look at you; you crave everything that I'm doing. Pathetic." He sounded disgusted as he continued, "I was hoping you'd put up a better fight than this. You make it too easy."
I'm not ... you haven't ... He pulled his right leg back towards his chest before managing to get his foot in line with Asch's chest and kicking out, but the hand that had just been at his crotch easily caught the sole of his shoe before he could connect; the general tisked, shaking his head slightly at his reaction, and Luke couldn't help but wonder if this was what a caged animal felt like. "Don't," he warned, flinching as he heard his voice crack slightly. "Don't think you've won ... I haven't ..." He took a breath, steadying himself as best as he could manage before turning his head so that he could look right into the other's face, eyes blazing in rage. The knowing smirk he saw there made him see red, and he growled. Another breath, and he screamed, "I haven't given up yet!"
Yet, in spite of his words, the other redhead's expression became more triumphant still. "Bravo."
It was as though that was exactly what he'd been waiting for all along: that one instant of explosive rage that Luke was nearly always all-too-eager to display. Like it was the trigger for all of his plans. His grip on Luke's wrists tightened as Asch pulled off of him, dragging him up halfway as he did so and hauling him a short way before neatly tossing him back some. Luke couldn't stop the momentum as he continued to slide along the floor for a few moments and his head collided with the wall behind him. A mumbled groan escaped his lips just an instant before a gloved hand grabbed onto his collar and pulled him forward again. "It seems I underestimated you," he heard Asch murmur, some humor in his tone as he grabbed Luke's left wrist and pulled it up and out slightly; he released his hold on his captive's black t-shirt and reached over to where his wrist was held. Dazed, Luke couldn't help but follow the action, eyes widening slightly as he first felt something cold and hard close over his skin before it registered to him. He tugged slightly in vain, trying to free himself from the manacle that had been placed on him, fist clenching with his efforts as his entire body began to writhe. He never even noticed that his right arm was being given the exact same treatment as his left until it, too, was held fast.
Green eyes widened further, traveling up the length of the chains that were connected to his shackles; it all seemed too unreal to him. Why ...? What is this?! Let go ... let me go ...
But Asch did nothing of the sort. Instead, his hands found their way to Luke's pants again, slowly unbuckling his belt, tossing the item to the side before he quickly pulled the pants down with a victorious smirk. They, along with his shoes, were also tossed off to the side as Asch pulled back slightly, eyes scanning his body again almost appreciatively. His expression seemed like an artist admiring his work, and Luke felt bile rise in his throat at that. "You look good like this," he purred, reaching up to run one finger down Luke's cheek. "Friendless. Helpless. Hopeless. Defenseless." A pause; he was considering slightly. "Spineless."
That does it! Luke's rage boiled again, and he spit in Asch's face. "Bastard." For once, it didn't bother him that the word sounded weak and almost broken.
It didn't faze the God-General, however. He simply reached up and slowly wiped the spit off of his cheek before wiping his hand on his fiery captive's t-shirt, leaning close again in the process to growl softly into Luke's ear, "So you want me to get rough with you, do you?" His voice was filled with a bit of dark promise and a lot of malice, and Luke felt himself shiver involuntarily at it. A hand closed on the back of his head again, tugging back before Asch pulled him forward again, their lips meeting in a crashing, harsh kiss. He felt the other boy's tongue slide against his lips, and his first instinct was to clamp his mouth shut tighter before the possibility of using this as an opportunity to fight back floated through his mind. A glimmer of hope. So he parted his lips, fully intending to clamp down hard again the moment Asch's tongue entered his mouth, but before he could, the boy's other hand was under his chin, thumb on one cheek and two fingers on the other, applying pressure so that he couldn't bite him even if he tried.
Guy ... where are you? Why ... why are you letting this happen to me?
He wanted to recoil at the feeling of Asch's tongue against his own, at the taste of the other's spit even as the other plundered every last bit of his mouth. He felt Asch forcefully push at the side of his cheek, cringed as his tongue ran across the soft ridging at the roof of his mouth, nearly gagged as he felt the tip of the other's tongue near the back of his own. He wanted it to stop, he wanted it over, and he wanted to get out of there. He'd settle for being locked away in his father's manor again, he really would, if only it meant that Asch could never touch him again.
Are you sure about that, dreck? Seems to me you're enjoying yourself.
He almost choked at the sound of Asch's voice reverberating in his head. What?! The other boy pulled back with yet another smirk - Luke was fairly certain by this point that it was a permanent fixture on his face - before wiping just under his own mouth. His hand was, then, once again wiped off on Luke's shirt, and the captive noble youth came close to spitting on him once more. In fact, he probably would have, if only the back of that same hand didn't connect hard with his mouth. A whimper escaped him again, and he was fairly positive that his lip had split from the blow, a suspicion furthered by the feeling of something wet dripping down his chin. And Asch drew closer, impossibly closer, until they were staring straight into each other's eyes. Luke's were widened slightly in shock and fear, Asch's narrowed in anger and something that the other couldn't quite place his finger on.
How pitiful you are.
They stayed there, just staring at each other. The only sound either could hear was Luke's soft, gasping breaths. And then Asch's lips twitched upwards ever-so-slightly.
"I'm not letting you go."
Author: Josie (artistjosie)
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Luke and Asch, predominantly; mentions of and some interaction with most everyone else, however.
Pairing: AschxLuke
Genre: Dark/Angst
Warnings: A fair amount of abuse ... er. And chained!Luke, I guess, if that needs a warning. ... and sex. Again, if that needs a warning. And, no, in spite of how it may seem in this first part, Asch will not rape Luke. Josie is not down with that. Although Luke's consent when that time comes may seem dubious ...
Spoilers? Er ... in this part, only if you've never been to the Desert Oasis; later, only if you've never been to Yulia City.
Summary: How much can a person take before the breaking point? When Luke falls into the God-General Asch's hands, his limits are tested as he's forced to pay for his crime of daring to draw his sword against him, amongst many others.
Notes: Just thought I'd point out a little bit of information on this: the story itself starts from just after the fight against Abaddon in the abandoned factory, and utilizes the very small gap between the party deciding to head outside and the start of the cutscene (the gap being that you're inside one moment, and the very next, you're outside and already at the bottom of the ladder to the ground). It then deviates from the storyline of the game shortly after (even if it does take me more than enough time to get to that point). And no. No, Asch does not play fair at all. And, uh, feel free to question me on any of what I did here. -.- Because I suck at this kind of thing laikwhoa. But hopefully not as much as Luke sucks on Asch. Er, I mean ...
Forwardlink: Part 2
- - -
The factory was dismal at best, but not simply because it had been abandoned for years. There was a gloomy feeling in the stale air of each and every corridor that they'd passed through, made worse by the glares that he could feel going back and forth between his companions. Damnit. All of this is just making me waste too much time. If I don't hurry ... if I don't hurry, Master Van might leave without me, and I'll never get out of this place! I want to go. I want to go with him!
The soft bickering behind him did nothing to improve his disposition (nor had it the entire time they'd been in the damned place, up to and including when they'd run into the Abaddon); it was bad enough that Natalia had blackmailed him into letting her join their unlikely band of peacemakers, but now she couldn't even be bothered to get along with everyone else properly to boot? It all added up to a sickening pounding at the base of his skull - almost as bad as the headaches he was prone to, but not quite anywhere near the same league - that he just couldn't shake. But, in the end, there was nothing for it. He couldn't very well refuse her, or his entire plan would be shot to hell. And he really, really didn't want that. So he'd put up with it, at least until he managed to get to Akzeriuth and eliminated the threat of the miasma. Then he wouldn't have to suffer through any more dank, dismal tunnels or catty girls. For the love of - did Anise just hiss at her? Girls really were an unnecessary headache and a half, he decided. Not that they weren't easy on the eyes or anything, but the attitudes ...
Still, he didn't bother to interfere; it wasn't his problem, after all. Natalia was a big girl, and a princess on top of it; she could take care of herself, he was sure - he probably had the scratch marks to prove it, in fact. All that mattered was getting through the damned factory and then to Chesedonia. Sure, he didn't much fancy the idea of trekking all that way (again), but if that's what it took, then that's what he would do. Besides, Master Van would probably be proud of him for it. It would show character.
Shaking his head slightly, trying to clear it, he let out a deep breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. There was light ahead, at least, which was - if nothing else - promising. It meant they'd be getting out of this place finally. And that was the best thing he could have ever imagined. He felt like they'd been there for ages, even if logic dictated that it had been less than a day, and it felt like it was driving him slowly, oh-so-very-slowly and painfully, insane. Digging his fingers into his hair and pulling slightly, he whirled around before crying out in annoyance, "Would all of you just shut up for a minute?!" He heard Tear's soft 'cluck' of disapproval at his words, but didn't care; he didn't care what any of them thought, really. All he had to do was put up with them for just a little longer, and then he'd never see a single one of them again. Oh, sure, he'd probably miss Guy, but it would be alright; Master Van would be there with him, and he was sure that was all he needed.
"Honestly, Luke!" He cringed as Natalia chastised him, clearly nowhere near being against scolding him for his behavior. Well, she never had been against it, in fact. She was probably the one who called him on his rudeness the most, as much as he resented her for that fact. And it didn't help that she had the upper hand in this situation, since one slip-up from him meant that she was no longer under obligation to keep her end of their little 'bargain.' She stepped up to him, hands on her hips as she looked straight into his eyes. "You truly have no manners whatsoever sometimes; it's shameful, especially for royalty."
He just huffed, waving his left hand carelessly and dismissively as he turned his face away. "Whatever. Let's just go already!"
He didn't miss the suspicious looks that he got. Nor did he miss the strange, almost knowing look in Jade's eyes. But he didn't care, either. Let them think what they want.
Luke didn't bother to wait for any acknowledgement of what he had said, either, before starting for the exit again. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if he even cared if they followed him or not. Yet, as he reached the opening to the outside world and looked at the almost too conveniently-placed ladder that fell from it - at least, it seemed convenient to him, considering that the place had been abandoned; it didn't really register too well to Luke that there was a time where the ladder was probably fairly well-used by the factory's workers - he heard the echoing footsteps of his companions. Oddly (to him, at least), the sound caused a sense of relief to wash over him, but he shook it off quickly as he looked out at the falling rain. Gah ... I really don't like that ...
Turning his back to the outdoors so that he could climb down, he was surprised to find that the rain hadn't really touched the ladder too much, thankfully, so it wasn't too slick and thus he was able to keep his footing on the way. He didn't, after all, fancy the thought of falling flat into the mud below. Still, he was cautious enough as he progressed - as strange as the others might have considered that - all the way until he finally reached the bottom, where he promptly moved out of the way so that everyone else could join him there.
It wasn't until they'd all reached the ground that he started to turn. Before he even managed to focus on what was there, he heard the gasp off to his right; a quick glance at Anise as he continued to turn showed her - and everyone else - staring at whatever was behind him.
Green eyes stared blindly for a moment as Luke's sight adjusted to the scene laid out before him. There, just meters ahead of them, was the commandeered Tartarus. There, before it, were dozens of Oracle Soldiers. There, amidst them, was Ion, held by a soldier on either side of him, prisoner to the same people who should have been sworn to protect him, in spite of the fact that he wasn't even bothering to resist.
There, in front of Ion, was the God-General who had mocked him aboard the Tartarus during their attack on the landship.
Time seemed to slow to a near halt for Luke right then; something possessed him to act, spurred him to rush forward, to draw his sword. Before he even knew what was happening, he heard himself screaming, "Hand over Ion now!" A flash of movement that he almost didn't notice at first signaled that the God-General he was running towards had unsheathed his sword, as well, and, in the same swift motion, had turned to block his almost frantic attack.
Luke was not deterred; adrenaline pumped through him as he pulled back just enough to strike a second time, but this was parried, as well, as was his third attempt at the same. This time, however, both held position, almost weighing each other's ability. And that was when it happened.
In that exact moment, as their blades crossed and held for the third time, Luke felt as though time had rushed back to its normal pace and he could finally see everything clearly once again, although he wished so desperately that it hadn't and that he couldn't. There, before him, he saw green eyes identical to his own on a face that he could only have seen in a mirror. What the - His eyes widened in fear, in shock, and his jaw went slack, if only slightly, as he stared speechless at the young man before him. That can't ... that can't be ... He felt sick, overwhelmingly and horribly sick, and he wanted nothing more than to just run, but he couldn't. He'd come this far, and, besides, Ion was right there, and he couldn't just let this bastard who happened to have his face just leave with him. He couldn't allow for that!
But, even as he was thinking that, he felt the tell-tale sign of the God-General taking advantage of his stunned state, stance shifting and muscles tightening just enough so that he could push Luke back as he stated, "It's you!" He lost his footing just slightly on the wet grass and mud, just barely regaining it before he would fall before straightening up, breathing hard as he held his sword up again in defense before dropping his stance and staring helplessly.
It can't be ... why ... why does he ...
He heard the gasps behind him; he heard Guy scream his name. His mind told him that these sounds were a reaction to what they had seen, not unlike his own reaction. His vision had become blurry - he tried to tell himself that it was simply due to the rain - and he couldn't see anything happening around him, didn't want to see anything around him. He wanted it all to go away, however selfish the desire may have been. He wanted to just turn around and go back home, to shut himself in his room and curl up, and maybe even a small part of him - okay, perhaps a large part - wanted to puke.
He couldn't even see what was happening right in front of him, but he was snapped out of his reverie as a hand grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and pulled him forward roughly. Awareness shot back into him, and he struggled to the best of his ability as an arm wrapped tightly around his body, pinning his own to his sides. "Let go of me, you bastard!"
He felt the other's face move closer before he moved his head just slightly to the side; red hair of the same shade as blood slid over his shoulder, matting down onto his clothes as it became wet and heavy from the rain. A pair of lips pressed against his ear momentarily before a cold voice whispered, "You should feel lucky. I don't usually take prisoners." Said in that stomach-turning kind of a way that told him that what the other boy really meant was that anyone who crossed him, however briefly or foolishly, was long dead.
His struggles renewed as the fear from those words settled into him; why was everyone just standing there?! Why hadn't Jade used any of his fonic artes on these soldiers, or Tear put them to sleep with Nightmare?! Why had ... why had Guy remained still instead of coming to his aid, and why had Natalia not fired a single arrow in his defense? Wasn't he supposed to be her betrothed? Wasn't he supposed to be their childhood friend?! The God-General's grip around his body tightened, and he struggled harder still. "Shut up!" he screamed, finally managing to free his left arm - faintly, he recognized that he must have dropped his sword at some point, as his hand was empty - and punched the young man holding him in the face. A small voice in his mind cried out in triumph for a moment. But only just.
The arm around Luke did not loosen even slightly as the red-haired general turned his head back slowly, angry green eyes glaring into their identical, slightly frightened match. "But you?" he said, voice colder still than before, and loudly enough that his companions could hear the words, as well. "You, I want to break. You, I'm going to enjoy breaking."
"Asch!" someone called out suddenly, warningly; Luke felt the other redhead turn his head slightly, never once letting go of his hold even as he tried once again to break free now that the other's attention was diverted, but there was nothing for it. "Ion takes priority right now."
"Tch. I know that."
Before he knew what was happening, Luke felt himself being pulled forward roughly, towards the Tartarus as the God-General - Asch, he could only assume - dragged him along. He dug his feet into the soggy mess that was the ground as best as he could, fingers gripping at the other's wrist in an attempt to pull himself free even as he looked back towards his companions, one hand reaching out towards them as he screamed out, hoping against any hope, "Guy, help!"
But still, he could see it: not a single one of them moved to his aid. No, even worse was seeing Guy turn away from his plea.
"Shut up, dreck." Even as soon as the words hit his ears, he felt his throat tighten up, and he was pulled roughly back and onto the Tartarus. Helplessly, emerald eyes stared out at his 'friends' - could he even call them that? Had he allowed them to be that? - unable to call to them again as the hatch closed.
And never before in the seven years of his life that he could recall had Luke fon Fabre felt his heart plummet as quickly and as far as it did in that single instant.
- - -
He'd been tossed to a few of the soldiers to be held down once Asch had dragged him further into the landship. They'd manhandled him, gripping his arms tightly as he thrashed and wailed - oh, but did he hate how they'd likened him to an infant at his actions - demanding that they release him at once. They'd simply laughed at his attitude and pulled him off to one of the rooms. He noted that it was larger than the ones he had seen when he had first been on the Tartarus, and could only assume that it would have been an officer's quarters, but that was the most that he was really able to register before he was unceremoniously tossed into the room, landing in a heap on the floor as the door slammed shut behind him. An audible click told him that the soldiers had locked it.
"How good of you to join me." His head was spinning, but that condescending voice broke through to him nonetheless, and his head whipped around - he realized quickly how much of a mistake that was, given his current predicament - so as to glare at his captor. The other young man stood from where he had been lounging on a couch (Luke considered the term used lightly), sauntering over to him and then crouching down so that they were eye-level with each other. "So good of you to not make me wait, dreck. I don't have patience for the likes of you." One gloved hand reached behind Luke, fingers brushing at his scalp and tangling in his hair before he pulled hard, forcing the young noble's head back.
That got him to bare his teeth and growl darkly. "Let go of me!"
"Not a chance." Green eyes studied him calculatedly, scanning over his neck, down to the buttons on his jacket - he could feel Asch's gaze move more quickly over his clothes - and to the exposed skin of his stomach. He could feel the other's gaze slow again as he seemed to drink in what was on display, and it made feel a bit queasy and horribly, terribly exposed. It certainly wasn't the kind of way he wanted his body to be ... 'appreciated.' Luke squirmed a bit, but that only drew a cold chuckle out of the other as his head was pulled back a bit more roughly. "My, my. Someone is certainly unashamed of his body," he said almost admonishingly. "Let's see how far that carries, shall we?"
"What?!" He hadn't meant for it to be the near-squeak that it had ended up as, hated showing any sort of weakness to a bastard like this, but there was no way to take the word back anymore. It was out there, and Asch had most certainly heard it.
But the God-General was silent for the time being, instead using his free hand to undo the buttons of Luke's jacket before pulling it off of him swiftly. "Do I stutter?"
That was too perfect of an opportunity for him to pass up. "You must; it's either that or you're completely insane."
He realized briefly, in that moment, just why Tear called him an idiot so often as the other boy harshly pulled on his hair again. He bent backwards slightly to prevent the alleviate some of the pain in his neck from his head being pulled back much too far, inadvertently making his already too-short t-shirt ride up further. Ow, ow, ow ... let go, let go! He hated the tears that welled up in his eyes from the abuse his poor scalp was being subjected to, and loathed that he wanted to do nothing more than scream, but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a single sound. That, after all, was what the damned general was after, wasn't it? He wouldn't - couldn't - give in to someone like him. If only because Natalia would have my head ...
Gloved fingers traveled down the length of his torso teasingly, tracing the defined muscles on his abdomen lightly before reaching his pants. "What's this?" Asch questioned lightly, yet still mocking. "Feeling shame already, are we?" Luke really had no idea what the other boy meant at first, until he felt the burning of his cheeks - although, whether it had already been there or had just been spawned by the other's comment, he wasn't sure. "If that's so ... you really won't like this." His head was pulled back further, forcing the arching of his spine to become more acute as those fingers danced over his crotch. Luke tried his very hardest to clamp his legs together and curl up in an attempt to force his hand away, but the intent was all for naught, as he couldn't change his position without risking - quite literally - his neck.
He had no choice but to suffer through.
Master ... Master Van ... please help me ...
Asch's touch became a bit more forceful almost as soon as Luke's pleading thought passed his mind - the timing, he was sure, must have been a coincidence - his palm pushing against him. To his horror, Luke felt himself growing hard under the other boy's touch, and the tears in his eyes, no longer simply from the pain, couldn't be contained any longer; he shouted at himself in his own head, disgusted that he would show weakness here, and yet he couldn't even with that thought, he couldn't stop it. They slipped from his eyes, trailed along his temples en route to dripping to the floor as he thrashed his head ever-so-slightly. "Let me go ..." He could have kicked himself for how weak the words sounded. "Let me go, or I swear I'll -"
"- do absolutely nothing," the God-General interjected. "Do you really think you can fight me?" Another sharp tug on his hair; Luke cringed as an unbidden whimper escaped him, but then Asch's grip loosened, and his hand turned to cradle the back of his head. He leaned forward, over Luke's body now, slowly and almost gently lowering him down to the floor, his other hand sliding to one of Luke's thighs and pushing down as he settled between his legs. His entire manner - from his smirk to his narrowed, calculating eyes to the way he kept himself forebodingly over Luke's body - seemed to say that he found the entire situation particularly amusing.
Luke shuddered as Asch's hand crept back up his thigh, bringing his arms up in an attempt to push the other boy off of himself, but all that he succeeded in doing was drawing the other's attention to the fact that he still had the free use of his limbs. Something that he quickly took care of by removing his hand from the back of Luke's head and grabbing onto his wrists, pulling his arms up and over his head before pressing them down to the floor. Shamefully, Luke turned his face away, clenching his eyes shut to avoid having to watch a face that mirrored his own twisted into such a distorted parody of himself. To avoid having to watch the expression of a man who - evidently - took pleasure out of the horrors he inflicted onto others.
He felt something tickle his cheek just moments before hot breath washed over his ear. The other boy bit him, not exactly hard but certainly not gently, before whispering, "Don't deny yourself; you know how much you really want this." He applied pressure to Luke's growing erection, and his captive gasped, eyes shooting open as he thrashed under the young general, trying to dislodge him from his far more advantageous position. "Dreck like you can't possibly hope to hide from the truth for too long. Look at you; you crave everything that I'm doing. Pathetic." He sounded disgusted as he continued, "I was hoping you'd put up a better fight than this. You make it too easy."
I'm not ... you haven't ... He pulled his right leg back towards his chest before managing to get his foot in line with Asch's chest and kicking out, but the hand that had just been at his crotch easily caught the sole of his shoe before he could connect; the general tisked, shaking his head slightly at his reaction, and Luke couldn't help but wonder if this was what a caged animal felt like. "Don't," he warned, flinching as he heard his voice crack slightly. "Don't think you've won ... I haven't ..." He took a breath, steadying himself as best as he could manage before turning his head so that he could look right into the other's face, eyes blazing in rage. The knowing smirk he saw there made him see red, and he growled. Another breath, and he screamed, "I haven't given up yet!"
Yet, in spite of his words, the other redhead's expression became more triumphant still. "Bravo."
It was as though that was exactly what he'd been waiting for all along: that one instant of explosive rage that Luke was nearly always all-too-eager to display. Like it was the trigger for all of his plans. His grip on Luke's wrists tightened as Asch pulled off of him, dragging him up halfway as he did so and hauling him a short way before neatly tossing him back some. Luke couldn't stop the momentum as he continued to slide along the floor for a few moments and his head collided with the wall behind him. A mumbled groan escaped his lips just an instant before a gloved hand grabbed onto his collar and pulled him forward again. "It seems I underestimated you," he heard Asch murmur, some humor in his tone as he grabbed Luke's left wrist and pulled it up and out slightly; he released his hold on his captive's black t-shirt and reached over to where his wrist was held. Dazed, Luke couldn't help but follow the action, eyes widening slightly as he first felt something cold and hard close over his skin before it registered to him. He tugged slightly in vain, trying to free himself from the manacle that had been placed on him, fist clenching with his efforts as his entire body began to writhe. He never even noticed that his right arm was being given the exact same treatment as his left until it, too, was held fast.
Green eyes widened further, traveling up the length of the chains that were connected to his shackles; it all seemed too unreal to him. Why ...? What is this?! Let go ... let me go ...
But Asch did nothing of the sort. Instead, his hands found their way to Luke's pants again, slowly unbuckling his belt, tossing the item to the side before he quickly pulled the pants down with a victorious smirk. They, along with his shoes, were also tossed off to the side as Asch pulled back slightly, eyes scanning his body again almost appreciatively. His expression seemed like an artist admiring his work, and Luke felt bile rise in his throat at that. "You look good like this," he purred, reaching up to run one finger down Luke's cheek. "Friendless. Helpless. Hopeless. Defenseless." A pause; he was considering slightly. "Spineless."
That does it! Luke's rage boiled again, and he spit in Asch's face. "Bastard." For once, it didn't bother him that the word sounded weak and almost broken.
It didn't faze the God-General, however. He simply reached up and slowly wiped the spit off of his cheek before wiping his hand on his fiery captive's t-shirt, leaning close again in the process to growl softly into Luke's ear, "So you want me to get rough with you, do you?" His voice was filled with a bit of dark promise and a lot of malice, and Luke felt himself shiver involuntarily at it. A hand closed on the back of his head again, tugging back before Asch pulled him forward again, their lips meeting in a crashing, harsh kiss. He felt the other boy's tongue slide against his lips, and his first instinct was to clamp his mouth shut tighter before the possibility of using this as an opportunity to fight back floated through his mind. A glimmer of hope. So he parted his lips, fully intending to clamp down hard again the moment Asch's tongue entered his mouth, but before he could, the boy's other hand was under his chin, thumb on one cheek and two fingers on the other, applying pressure so that he couldn't bite him even if he tried.
Guy ... where are you? Why ... why are you letting this happen to me?
He wanted to recoil at the feeling of Asch's tongue against his own, at the taste of the other's spit even as the other plundered every last bit of his mouth. He felt Asch forcefully push at the side of his cheek, cringed as his tongue ran across the soft ridging at the roof of his mouth, nearly gagged as he felt the tip of the other's tongue near the back of his own. He wanted it to stop, he wanted it over, and he wanted to get out of there. He'd settle for being locked away in his father's manor again, he really would, if only it meant that Asch could never touch him again.
Are you sure about that, dreck? Seems to me you're enjoying yourself.
He almost choked at the sound of Asch's voice reverberating in his head. What?! The other boy pulled back with yet another smirk - Luke was fairly certain by this point that it was a permanent fixture on his face - before wiping just under his own mouth. His hand was, then, once again wiped off on Luke's shirt, and the captive noble youth came close to spitting on him once more. In fact, he probably would have, if only the back of that same hand didn't connect hard with his mouth. A whimper escaped him again, and he was fairly positive that his lip had split from the blow, a suspicion furthered by the feeling of something wet dripping down his chin. And Asch drew closer, impossibly closer, until they were staring straight into each other's eyes. Luke's were widened slightly in shock and fear, Asch's narrowed in anger and something that the other couldn't quite place his finger on.
How pitiful you are.
They stayed there, just staring at each other. The only sound either could hear was Luke's soft, gasping breaths. And then Asch's lips twitched upwards ever-so-slightly.
"I'm not letting you go."