the final fantasy anonymous kink meme

[shanaqui]

I have made this post public again despite leaving LJ to allow people to save their own fics, etc.

Since this kind of thing seems to be spreading LJ-wide, I thought it was time we had one. ;) The original, I believe, is the Bleach Kink Meme, and there's a master list of others here. ;)

So...
The Final Fantasy Anonymous Kink MemeWhat is it? It's

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The Absence of Pleasure [1]

[anonymous]

Author's Note: Perhaps not what you were expecting, but I hope you like it anyway!

Ashe held her eyes shut, lids clamped so tightly together that not even tears could squeeze through. She could hear the cold hiss of a blade, almost like that of an animal, as it thrust into her shoulder. She bit her lip, teeth gouging her skin until blood flowed onto her tongue like a tepid river. A moment of silence passed before steel spun, wrenching sinew and cartilage from bone. She let out a cry, hoarse and unbridled, slurring curses along her breath.

“So this is the mighty queen of Dalmasca, is it?” a voice sliced through her senses, sharper than the sword jammed into her flesh. It was concise, cooler than marble and darker than coal. “Won’t her highness gaze upon me?”

Ashe kept her eyes closed, but they snapped open as the blade dug farther in, tip scratching the wall behind her. Her vision was a blur of red and black, and she shuddered. The dungeon was dank, but she was sweating, exhausted by adrenaline and the rapid beat of her heart. Blood caked her clothes, seeping through the weavings and scalding her skin. She raked her fingers into the damp cobblestone beneath her, nails squealing and snapping. When her eyes stayed glued to the ground, the blade rounded again, tearing upwards and scoring her collarbone. She screamed, a noise that simmered and echoed along the watery walls.

“I won’t look at you,” she hissed between clenched teeth, pain glowing from her wound. Agonizing sensations spidered outwards, coursing through her veins like liquid fire.

“Won’t you?” he asked, and in a flash of silver the blade tore free from her body. Searing pain ripped through her, every muscle clenched. An anguished cry caught in her throat, too proud to be released. Rather than scream, a small whimper escaped her lips, which she found so much more mortifying.

The tip of the blade glinted in her vision, tenderly skimming her throat. It drifted down her collarbone, stopping at the dip between her breasts. Her clothes, thoroughly soaked in scarlet, clung to her body. Every last outline was enunciated, showcased in bright red spotlight, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so naked. “Look at me.”

Her left hand refused to move, so she raised her right and knocked the blade away. Her shackle rattled and clinked as her arm fell listlessly back to her side. She tried to drag herself up to at least sit against the wall rather than lean helplessly, but her muscles protested. “I will not look at those who are beneath me.”

A dark chuckle bubbled from above, followed by the swift streak of steel as the blade bit into her cheek. It was a shallow wound, but cinders of pain sparked wildfire in her already broken body. She hadn’t a moment to say anything when the sword caught on her clothing, slicing through it as easily as air. His body descended upon her, ungloved hands ripping the fabric from her body.

She resisted, drawing on reservoirs of hidden strength. Her left arm, numb from blood loss, lunged to gouge out his eyes. He effortlessly resisted her attacks, shoving the blade into her right shoulder to stifle all movement. She hissed, toxic curses flowing from her lips like the blood from her gashes.

Long, cold fingers grasped her chin, turning it towards him. His thumb dug into the cut on her cheek, crimson flowing down his hand in ribbons. “At this point, I don’t think you’ve any reason to find me wanting.”

Ashe closed her eyes, but they were soon yanked open by his other hand. Through wet lashes, she had no choice but to stare into to the face of her aggressor. Upon her gaze, Vayne’s lips split into a wicked, triumphant grin.

Ashe spat, blood and saliva spattering just below his eye. His smile did not falter, and rather than yell he moved a hand to the sword. He twisted it, and the familiar sensation of muscle being shredded flooded Ashe’s brain. She howled, a moment seized by Vayne as he crushed his lips against hers. Manacles chimed as she fought to rip out his throat in blind rage. He shifted the steel again and her mouth opened wider, unwillingly inviting him to deepen their contact.