chaos_anomaly: (Fanart Dissidia ♞ Ulti x Squall; Mine)
C. Anomaly ([personal profile] chaos_anomaly) wrote2010-03-26 09:54 pm

Springkink Fic | Bloodied Dance; DFF; R

Title: Bloodied Dance
Author/Artist: Cyr Anomaly, [ profile] chaos_anomaly
Rating: R (not explicit enough for any higher, I think)
Warnings: Rape, Violence, implied Sex
Prompt: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Ultimecia/Squall: rough hatesex – Dance with me.
Word count: 840
Summary: She danced with him but not in the way he imagined it.

A/N: orz Sorry about the lateness! I'm not quite satisfied with this and I've tried my best but I think I still missed the point with the prompt. *sighs* Much apologies! Is Hatesex supposed to be like... explicit? Cause it doesn't look that way to me... *sighs* Originally Posted Here. Part I of Beast's Story

Red talons raked across where his biceps rested against the stone floor. Warmth engulfed him as cold air brushed against his bare legs and torso. On top of him, the Witch smirked darkly at him, a hand fingering the solid spear of crystal impaled in his right shoulder, in the same spot another spear had wounded him so long ago.

Pain engulfed his body, tearing away any and all pleasure he might have (something to be thankful for if he was ever considerate of her; he wasn’t; he never will be; she was his enemy; she must be destroyed). He could feel himself growing weaker by the second, another Knight Arrow had pinned his left hand to the ground.

A clenched right hand gripped hard on the Sorceress’s neck was all he could do. He didn’t have the strength to make her choke, make her gasp out of her own pain. Still he tried.

He tried to make her stop, make her get off him.

He did not want this. He will never want this. He was taken off guard. He should have been more vigilant, more aware.

When she said, “Dance with me,” he thought he meant battle. He should have known it would not be as simple as then the moment he struck with Revolver and the precise moment that Arrow slammed into his flesh, embedding itself in the same place Edea’s Ice Spear had been.

He fell, pain electrifying his senses, blurring his vision. This was no ordinary shard of crystal but something more. He hated to admit it but he might have passed out. The time after the Sorceress’s attack hit and the next moment he knew of coherent thought, she was on top of him, laughing.

He was nude, pinned to the stone of the Old Chaos Shrine. Her heat engulfed him as she slid up and down his body, thrusting herself onto him.

When he made a grab at her with both hands, she threw yet another (but smaller) arrow at him. He dodged the one that made toward his right hand, but his left was struck, pinned suddenly to the floor. He was submerged in pain once more but she giggled and laughed, slashing his chest, drawing blood with her claws.

She might have said something, might have done more than just laugh and smile darkly. He couldn’t remember, instead he focused on trying to choke her with his right hand alone; focused on trying to ignore the sensations she placed on his body, the mixture of pain and underlying pleasure.

He snarled loud. His eyes flashed, a raging storm.

Revolver was out of reach but he could see it. It rested against the stone concrete floor of the shrine some distance away. There was no time to reach it, even if he had the concentration to bring it to his hand. Her body on his, her claws making bloody drawings on his flesh, her lips forming what could be words or sounds of amusement occupied his mind.

He had to escape. Had to leave. Had to stop her.

A surge of energy rushed through his veins like thunder. For a moment he felt as if he was back in D-District. She giggled and leaned down, taking advantage of his open mouth, delving her tongue inside his.

He bit hard on the invader, drawing blood. She smiled. Her blood filled his mouth.

Growling low, he jerked his head away, the back slamming against the floor in his effort. Her laughter filled his ears. His hips buckled, his body quivered with anger, with almost certain release. He could feel something inside him, burning him from the inside out. She moved faster, up and down, fisting her talons against his chest, claws digging into his flesh, one hand over where his heart was.

The explosion came next, he roared in disgust, in hatred. A new energy engulfed him, giving him the strength to pull his left hand from the ground to throw her off him, hard against the floor. He reversed their positions, ripping his shoulder away from the spear that kept him pinned all this time. He glared down, his eyes flashed.

He could see himself, a bloody mess in her eyes, his reflection taunting him with the evidence of what they just done. For a moment, he could have sworn that in her treacherous gold eyes, his own eyes turned into something more than just his usual blue-grey.

His right hand slammed against her throat.

Her legs wrapped against his hips, pulling him back toward her, back inside her. She leaned up and kissed his neck, just underneath his ear. He couldn’t hear the murmur she had spoken, couldn’t her what she said over the pounding of raging blood in his head. He could only hear her laughter after wards as she forced him back to moving inside her.

Her talons pierced through skin as she said finally, the only words he could remember speaking during all of this. “And now, you’re all mine.”