"is it love that we're making, or some sick attack?"
Oh hey, I have more Kefka/Rosso. This will probably only make sense to those involved in IMverse, but. Whatever. Also I'm not a huge fan of it buuut. 8|
--
The thought hits her as he’s on his knees, driving her to madness (to weakness) with a spellcasters tongue and a generals hands, and she would laugh if she wasn’t groaning (and she wonders then when she became so loose with her tongue around him, but that thought isn’t as important as the first). He’s the source of many things in her new world; shelter, food, amusement, pleasure - he is her most trusted ally and now her lover, though that word means little to her. Sex means little to her, but she’s beginning to find that she craves it - the control, or the lack thereof, and the way, in that moment, he is hers. There are no threats that he’ll be gone, just the knowledge that he is hers and she is his and together, they will destroy everything.
But the thought that hits her even then is that she hates him.
She has taken steps to make sure that he is hers, replacing his tattoos with glowing red mako by her own hand. He has done the same to her, binding Poison-Sleep-Blind-Stop into what she is so that she’ll never be rid of him. She kills for him and he praises her and lets her sleep in his bed, so soft and so very unlike the beds in Deepground and she hates him for it. She hates the way she’s becoming domesticated, though she’s only just now realizing that it has happened at all - she still kills, still fights with him, still threatens to break every bone in his body when he does something she doesn’t like - but it’s still as though he’s fixed a collar around her neck (and the chip in her brainstem is still there and she wonders if he reworked it, if could make it so that she can’t hurt him, and the thought makes her want to kill him right then and there). What makes it worse is the knowledge that he has many little scurrying minions; of course, ego demands that she is the best, the elite (the one the most like him) and she agrees, but…
She works now to avoid disappointing him, and though he has gone with her to capture her Behemoth and though she lives with him, slips through his house like a ghost when she wishes and other times makes the fact that she lives with him very apparent, she has only had one moment of satisfaction. Only one moment has made her smirk slightly, made her think “And so I am not the only one with a leash” and soothed her somewhat, and it’s ridiculous, thinking that she needs-no, wants, she doesn’t need - these things. Just once, when a man who oozes poison made an offer, and she snarled like a caged beast and said “we are destroying the world together” and Kefka didn’t take the offer without thinking of her.
It’s barely anything, when she looks back on it, but she had been pleased. And she hates that it pleased her, almost as much as she hates the fact that she wasn’t given a second glance compared to him - the god, of course, but she’s felt how fragile he is and she knows that, if she planned, if she approached just the right way, she could kill him.
The fact that drives her crazy is that she also knows that she probably won’t.
Hands trace over tattoos, and she tells him that he is hers, though perhaps not in as many words. It sounds sentimental. It’s not. She hates him, hates what he’s doing to her, but she doesn’t say as much. She just tells him that he belongs to her and takes the compliments he gives her with a smug feeling, because of course they’re true. She hates him, and she hates herself for knowing that she still craves whatever he will offer, and she isn’t letting him go.
“You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.” -- Julie de Lespinasse
“You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love. Perhaps he himself prevents you. That is a disguised form of love.” - Sri Chinmoy
--
The thought hits her as he’s on his knees, driving her to madness (to weakness) with a spellcasters tongue and a generals hands, and she would laugh if she wasn’t groaning (and she wonders then when she became so loose with her tongue around him, but that thought isn’t as important as the first). He’s the source of many things in her new world; shelter, food, amusement, pleasure - he is her most trusted ally and now her lover, though that word means little to her. Sex means little to her, but she’s beginning to find that she craves it - the control, or the lack thereof, and the way, in that moment, he is hers. There are no threats that he’ll be gone, just the knowledge that he is hers and she is his and together, they will destroy everything.
But the thought that hits her even then is that she hates him.
She has taken steps to make sure that he is hers, replacing his tattoos with glowing red mako by her own hand. He has done the same to her, binding Poison-Sleep-Blind-Stop into what she is so that she’ll never be rid of him. She kills for him and he praises her and lets her sleep in his bed, so soft and so very unlike the beds in Deepground and she hates him for it. She hates the way she’s becoming domesticated, though she’s only just now realizing that it has happened at all - she still kills, still fights with him, still threatens to break every bone in his body when he does something she doesn’t like - but it’s still as though he’s fixed a collar around her neck (and the chip in her brainstem is still there and she wonders if he reworked it, if could make it so that she can’t hurt him, and the thought makes her want to kill him right then and there). What makes it worse is the knowledge that he has many little scurrying minions; of course, ego demands that she is the best, the elite (the one the most like him) and she agrees, but…
She works now to avoid disappointing him, and though he has gone with her to capture her Behemoth and though she lives with him, slips through his house like a ghost when she wishes and other times makes the fact that she lives with him very apparent, she has only had one moment of satisfaction. Only one moment has made her smirk slightly, made her think “And so I am not the only one with a leash” and soothed her somewhat, and it’s ridiculous, thinking that she needs-no, wants, she doesn’t need - these things. Just once, when a man who oozes poison made an offer, and she snarled like a caged beast and said “we are destroying the world together” and Kefka didn’t take the offer without thinking of her.
It’s barely anything, when she looks back on it, but she had been pleased. And she hates that it pleased her, almost as much as she hates the fact that she wasn’t given a second glance compared to him - the god, of course, but she’s felt how fragile he is and she knows that, if she planned, if she approached just the right way, she could kill him.
The fact that drives her crazy is that she also knows that she probably won’t.
Hands trace over tattoos, and she tells him that he is hers, though perhaps not in as many words. It sounds sentimental. It’s not. She hates him, hates what he’s doing to her, but she doesn’t say as much. She just tells him that he belongs to her and takes the compliments he gives her with a smug feeling, because of course they’re true. She hates him, and she hates herself for knowing that she still craves whatever he will offer, and she isn’t letting him go.
“You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.” -- Julie de Lespinasse
“You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love. Perhaps he himself prevents you. That is a disguised form of love.” - Sri Chinmoy