Redemption : Vincent x Kuja **NC17 With New Chapter
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Redemption
Vincent x Kuja
NC - 17
WARNINGS:
Non con, hints of gender bending and more, strong yaoi/slash
Summary:
Vincent Valentine finds himself a stranger in a strange land, faced with stopping a massacre --and his only chance for Redemption: reaching the twisted and bizarre psyche of the would-be mass murderer.
Chapter One
The promised Land - In the Before:
"You understand, then, the situation?"
"I think so, yes, but..."
"You are not to take his life. Therin lies your own salvation. Know that he would reach out a hand and end this entire existence, if he could do so."
"Then he is insane--and you do not need to remind me again--killing is a last resort, and not a first choice. I have never delighted in the taking of any life!"
"That is why we have selected you. Perhaps from this there can come a dual redemption. We shall see. First, sustain the universe and restrain the madman. Go now, and good luck to you."
In the Now:
The creature---for he could only be properly called a 'creature', with the long, silver furred tail, and oddly fashioned platinum hair, adorned at the top with a twinned featherage-- glared and sighed and snorted in unhappiness as he was bound by the dark haired gunman. Bound hands and feet, trussed like a common whore.
Sex was nothing he was innocent of, even though the secrets under that protecting cover between the full thighs remained untouched, unknown by others.
Vincent had secured him in the only fashion that would prevent the manifestation of Ultima, nearly spread eagled, long legs and arms cast out in useless confinement, fastened to the point of near-pain but stopping just at discomfort.
Infinite scorn in his voice, Kuja snarled a mocking jibe at him, as the last of the cuffs was secured on the slender wrist:
"Fool, so wise and yet so stupid in your arrogant conceit. I can do my Will any time I desire, and you cannot stop it. You remind me of my brother, before I took care of his ill thought out ideas. Think you have all the answers, don't you? But you are in for a bad surprise, you'll see!"
Brother?
That hadn't been mentioned.
"What brother? I see no one here in this place but yourself. What have you done to him?"
Kuja laughed his cold, merciless melody, velvet encased in ice and edged with razors.
"Oh, he still lives. How could even I get along without a pet, in my Palace? Even I have need of a buffoon and favorite simpleton to crawl at my feet. But I won't tell you where he is. He can starve now, and that will be on your conscience as well."
Suddenly blackly furious, Vincent slapped the unreal, too perfect doll's face, biting back at your glance with its hateful beauty. "That's not going to happen, and before we go on to other things, you WILL tell me where he is. I assure you of that."
Shocked and then enraged, Kuja squirmed in his bonds, hissing like a rabid wildcat. "The UNIVERSE will die, stranger! I will go down with this ship to see it dashed on the rocks, peace will be mine in the knowing that all others die with me! And my brother?! He will DIE, stranger in my kingdom! He will die long and lavishly, crying out for help, to no avail, in sad travail, so ends his tale! And TAIL, as well, ha!"
Vincent stared at him, appalled and impressed at the scope and depth of his madness. Even Hojo had never been this way, willing to sacrifice himself happily, if only he could bring death to all in the process.
"You............need help. You are very ill. Stop all this, calm yourself, and talk to m--"
Kuja had spit at him, missing woefully, but the bright insanity in his dark blue eyes gleaming. "I have no more to say to you! No more! No MORE!!"
Screaming.
The last refuge of the mad.
Vincent sat down, and studied him at his leisure. There was so much wrong with him, mentally, emotionally, and physically as well, for beyond the beauty and allure there were many things that were dreadfully off kilter, skewed, just...WRONG.
The curve of his hips, the skin ---Vincent had taken off the leather glove on his human hand, and had felt it as he secured the restraints. Soft as delicate new satin, feminine and --- he had felt that first unwanted twinge of arousal, to his dismay and horror, as he had handled this being. The body writhing hotly under his grasp was like a narcotic temptation, hideous in its draw and attraction --but--there was more than just that.
He knew there was.
He still did not really understand what Kuja was, not really.
"Are you-------male or female---or---both?"
There. Asked. Confronted.
But Kuja was in no mood to divulge secrets and unravel mysteries.
"None of your BUSINESS, fool! Can't you TELL? Are you THAT stupid?"
Vincent sighed, and leaned back, lighting a cigarette, and eyes scanning every inch of his bizarre and deadly prisoner. There was the scent of floral and musk, heat, sex, lust and evil. Heavy lidded eyes of azure and red rouged paint. The sense of the masculine and the feminine, spicy male and warm, lustrous female.
Vincent began to ache, just a little. And he shook his head. No. He could NOT tell.
"Idiot."
The doll spoke thickly, in slurred, hateful speech. He sounded deranged, his voice off kilter and strained, soft and yet not welcoming.
"When are you going to let me go? You have to, you know. You want the death of an innocent on your hands? Zidane hasn't been fed for a day now. I bet he's thirsty too, you big oaf! Have you no sense of honor at all?!"
Vincent finally spared him a look, and it was not a kind one. "You little liar. You aren't concerned with your brother, or I hardly think you would have locked him up like a wild animal. You fool no one, except, maybe, yourself. I think you've been doing that for a very long time, haven't you?"
"I HATE you!"
He was getting sick of hearing this. It was mundane, really, at this point--- just stupid, senseless. Kuja wasn't even trying now, he thought, a little bemused. There was nothing of interest coming from the pouty, tightly pressed lips. Only bitterness and hate, yes, there was hate, of course, Vincent understood that. But he was very tired of hearing it.
"What a spoiled, boring little shit you are. Have you always been so dull? You are a theme repeated endlessly, in drab colors that go nowhere. You're alright to look at, at least you have that..."
He wanted to get a response, force Kuja out of the seething silence of the last hours.
This might do it.
The Genome looked as if he might actually explode, literally, and his eyes flared up again in the hate filled anger, while long elegant fingers clenched in savage want to rake out eyes and cause pain.
"You........PIG! You stinking gutter puke shit sucker! How DARE you talk to me that way, why do you tempt fate?! How furious do you want to make me?!"
His tail lashed from side to side, and he didn't care that it was clearly seen now. When the anger was enough, he really didn't care about anything except making someone hurt, making someone pay. "You are going to be sorry, so sorry, oh YES so VERY sorry!"
Valentine was not impressed. He'd seen his own son do far worse, and this small, rather scrawny creature was not really giving him too much in the way of alarm. Gods, but he was built like a woman though. The hips were, well, it was true, even though he didn't really want to voice it in his own head: they were CHILDBEARING hips, full, lush and rounded, and the whole lower portion of the being was built in a lavishly feminine fashion, as he had been noting for the last 5 hours.
Didn't WANT to note it, but he had.
"Alright, this is enough, I'll give you that. I've had enough. I want a look. There. I have to know."
Indicating the darkly secretive codpiece -thong between the soft-looking thighs. "I have to know. And I'm going to find out. Maybe there's a reason down there, for all your madness, hmm?" He moved forward, lunging for it.
Bound, Kuja shrieked.
Chapter Two
The little creature was fetching in his frightened feigned innocence and desire for chastity, but Vincent Valentine was not fooled. He had BEEN fooled before, to be sure, but that was precisely why he could manage such powers of discernment now. And so the talented and wise hands were yet reached out to the bound prisoner, to see just what might be of such incredible worth to warrant all this squealing, cursing and thrashing about, as if he were about to be flayed alive.
“Come on now, it’s going to happen, there isn’t anything you can do, and if I see you even attempting to cast Firaga or some such on me, I promise you will regret it dearly. Lie still, you have made this a game now, incited interest in me, and I will see the hidden treasure, like it or not…”
The codpiece was ridiculously difficult to remove, but finally there was success. Vincent was treated to the sight of rather nice shaven loveliness, perfectly shorn of all hair, clean and sweet scented with the oils and exotic perfumes that Kuja loved. But even as it stood at magnificent half-staff, quite impressive even as it was now, there was more to be had, to be found.
Perhaps to be sampled, enjoyed.
Not that Vincent had anything of a rapist in his nature, on the contrary he was a deeply honorable man, with a high moral sense. But he sinned, did he not? He had sinned and he would sin again, for such was the mortal coil.
“Open your thighs.” Rebellious, though clearly aroused, Kuja did just the opposite, as much he was able to do, for he was fairly well opened up already by his bonds. Vincent’s impatient, eager fingers slid along the crevice that remained under the soft but firm sack, sparing it one squeeze that elicited a sharp cry from Kuja. The beautiful sword of his questionable valor was now fully aware and awakened, standing to its destiny like a lone and forgotten soldier on a mountaintop.
But Vincent was already on to something else, equally appealing and attractive, at least in his eyes and senses.
Finding what he suspected, he smiled very slightly, and his fingers flicked lightly over what he had found in the sacrosanct holy of holies, making the Genome gasp loudly and give a deep grind of his hips, the pleasure of the mystery occurring something that even his vindictive soul could not refrain from expressing.
“Stop it! Stop, you have no right--!!” Vincent did not even hear, he was by now far too intent, too deeply immersed in this joyous adventure, and wild chocobos could not have driven him from here.
“You fight what you desire, that is counter to reason, little one. It makes no sense, just let it happen, can you stop it anyway?”
Furious even in the dawn of bliss, Kuja snarled and struggled hard, one last time, giving it all he had, or at the very least, desiring to make it appear so. Vincent was nonplussed, barely even heeding the frantic bucking and arching of the angry ‘victim’ of his attack. When at last he slumped down again in what was going to pass for defeat and angry submission, Vincent knew the game was nearly done.
“Better, then. Now relax, or try to calm your fevered mind and heart. I have no wish to harm you…”
He was, very much needless to say, getting quite aroused himself by this point, and his trousers were far too restrictive to be anything even approaching comfortable. But as he only had one hand to really work with, the other being the damnable clawed monstrosity, Vincent would have to wait to release the already straining, weeping beast in his pants. The one good hand he had was still exploring, find sweet and delicate places, cream spilling over and out, rising to the top, as it were.
Delicious places.
It was not anything he could really have tried to resist, even if he had wanted to-and of course by now he did not want anything of the kind at ALL.
The tongue flickered out, teasing, tasting, while Vincent took hold of the admirable rod that loomed above in needy attention, almost pleading for that touch.
Kuja began to make a sound very like a soft crooning purr, hips rolling in slow, rapturous response to Vincent’s skilled ministrations. How furious he still was, of course he was, this changed NOTHING, the stupid cur was ATTACKING him, FORCING him, and this was a crime, really. It was a highly punishable offense, and when this was all settled, when he somehow got loose and free again, he would see the bastard SCREAM for mercy as he roasted him.
Yes.
That WAS how it was going to play out, Kuja reassured himself of that, even as Vincent’s impossibly warm tongue slid against a particularly fragile place of pleasure, forcing a slurred exclamation from the helpless Genome’s lush lips. Yes, it was, he was going to---to---pay---and ---dearly---and---the deep jarring orgasm came so suddenly and so violently that as the lovely eyes squeezed shut, the pouting mouth opened once more in a shuddering wail of ecstasy.
“Ohhhh-ohhhh there oh SHIVA oh its good-------!!”
Such a TRAVESTY.
Forced into this-this-unspeakable violation of his sovereign PERSON, and Kuja was going to exact due vengeance for it, of that you might be very, very certain. Just as soon as the throbbing pleasure died down, just as soon as he got free, somehow, and just as soon as ----
“WHAT are you doing now, you beast?!” Vincent did not spare him an answer, but his hand was now occupied at another task, freeing up something that was troubling him terribly. But it was no matter, Kuja would very soon be crystal clear on what he was doing, and there would be no more mystery of it.
“I -SAID-what-are you doing--??”
Vincent smiled, and let him see, and the cries echoed off the stars at his understanding.
Chapter Three
“You cannot think to do that, you will regret it, I promise you that!”
Kuja wanted loose, this couldn’t be allowed to commence, this was something he wasn’t even sure he would even survive, really. And the damnable dark man was closing in on him now, the last of his clothes discarded. Not that it was a bad sight, of course. It was an ominous sight, but it was a pleasant one, nonetheless, a summer storm arriving on the horizon of Kuja’s tumultuous mind, the lightning flashing dangerously before him-and he was utterly bereft of shelter.
“So you are a rapist then? No man of honor? I see… but again, you will regret this, trust me on that.”
The man sported the most beautiful erection he had ever seen-except for baby brother, of course, but that was family and that was just different. Of course it was. But this was something to see, looming and hotly engorged, riveting his eyes to it with the magical attraction of lust.
Suddenly, he wished Zidane were here, and free, and not chained. He would save him, he might end Kuja’s life now but it would be him doing it, that sweet brother-hand of well-meaning love-and he would be fast, he would be merciful. Beautiful death, in the form of the beloved.
But it was not to be.
And he was about to be taken, molested, violated in this terrible fashion.
The man had found him out, found that secret which had been so very well deceived away, so very carefully controlled and out of reach.
“You cannot do this. I will die if you do. A butterfly shorn of its wings will surely fail.”
Vincent laughed. Laughed at him.
Moving closer, his human hand reaching to caress one soft nipple, pressing it gently between his fingers and finally leaning in to lick and taste---and Kuja moaning under the hateful assault, hating, hating, hating, even as his loathsomely treacherous body writhed and squirmed. Vincent was not troubled by the exclamations of outrage or the constant flow of curses that had spilled forth from the lovely lips, that ought really to have been lush petaled vessels of love.
And not the carriers of the fell disease of madness.
His tongue teased and dallianced over the now swollen rosebud, fingers adding to the pleasure by attending to the similarly perfect mate on the other side, till both were hardened to the point of pebbling stiffly.
“Please.”
He was not sure what he was pleading for now, really.
“Hush, don’t speak.”
Eyes closed, hips arched in need, thighs opened at last in yearning, fearful dread overcome by simple hunger.
Ravage me.
The feeling was of pressure-pain, the unyielding part still fighting, though the rest of his hot-blooded being was arcing in not submission but merely an allowance-exhaling hard through the wet open mouth, Kuja cried out once, wanting it to stop and wanting it to never end at once, the paradox of misery and bliss warring in him. One cry, and it was lodged inside him, this vast-spanning invader, this opener of secret worlds.
Vincent’s hand grasped him from below, bracing him for each deep surge, and the silver haired genome lashed his tail out from under himself, wrapping it around that strong arm, body responding despite all the declarations to the contrary.
“Please!”
That word.
Felt so wrong.
Every inch.
You’re killing me with your kindness.
It came suddenly, with the sharp and merciless intent of something drastic and wild, the dark man rocking into the now-ruptured flower with the power and glory of a rampaging dragon---forcing it to come-the dam burst with more haste than ever anticipated by either participant, seed filling a too-ready receptacle. Bodies crashing together, sweat flowing and the genome’s head thrown back in the totality of ecstasy, drool slipping from the soft lips, uncaring.
The scream was heartrending, though it was of release, and not death, as it truly sounded.
Zidane heard, and closed his eyes. It sounded like someone had finally caught up with Kuja, and he was, at last, being murdered.
Help had come, but………..
No.
Not like this, damn it.
A tear dropped from a crystal blue eye, and the little genome settled back in his chains, the fire in his belly forgotten for the moment. Help was likely to arrive soon, anyway, but he hadn’t wanted this to happen.
O gods, no.
“I’m so sorry, Kuja. So very sorry. Maybe now you can find peace…………..and sanity.”
TBC