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the Evitable a.k.a. LunarGeography
Warnings: Dark in theme, but
not entirely unrelentingly. Nasty things implied, but left to the
Last Updated: 2 February 2008
"There, there – I assure you, really, there's no need to work so hard
to fight back the tears. Go ahead, let them flow. You can even sob a
bit if you like. There, there."
Wetness overflowed stinging eyelids, ran down. A brief trailing of
warmth down a cheek, and then a moment of more intense chill from the
lingering wet. Then another trail of warmth, and another, faster yet.
"Goodness, no, I'd never mock you for weeping. Why ever should you
think such a thing? It's perfectly appropriate to the situation. You
know very well that what I'm going to be doing to you is going to be
quite horrific. You're not foolish, you know you're facing a very
prolonged and nasty death, at best. I mean, really, it's rather
flattering to me that I'm pulling this reaction out of you when I've
scarcely begun to touch you."
A gentle pressure down the side of a cheek, the edge of a jaw – gentle
pressure, but a searing heat, as though a branding iron had caressed
"That inability to hide your feelings – it's endearing, really. One of
so many things to love about you." Whimpers echoed from walls. "It's
adorable when you try, but I'd be even more pleased if you gave in and
responded honestly to me."
A long vowel noise of pain, that surged and was choked off, only to
"Oh, that's very good. You really are a darling boy. Now let's get
these out of the way – I won't have anything blocking my access to your
A sound of tearing cloth. A burning scent, not entirely unpleasant.
"My, my. You're actually trying to hide out of shame. Actual shame!
You're not just trying to protect those vulnerable bits. How precious!
Really, I'm starting to feel very fond of you. I can't remember how
long it's been since I've had something this adorable. Listen, little
one, just for you – because you are pleasing me so greatly – once I'm
done with you, I'll use the tiniest portion of it to take your
revenge on the one who handed you over to me."
"Handed me... over?" Voice hoarse and soft, as though the throat was
"Oh yes, you were betrayed. Your very own Judas, though you were spared
the kiss. If it makes you feel any better, he didn't entirely know what
he was doing when he collected a few items from you, made a few
inquiries about you. He doesn't really believe I am what I say I am –
he'd rather think I'm some eccentric rich freak, and was happy to
co-operate with my delusions in return from some paltry material gain.
He actually thinks he got a cheap bargain – well, so do I. You're such
a rare vintage; I would have paid far more for you.
"I hate to spoil my palate with one like him, but because you're so
delightful, I'll make sure he pays for doing this to you – pays in
A shaking of the head from side to side brought about a lurching
"No? Really? You don't want me to take your revenge? Such a sweet boy.
I would not have believed it. No wonder they're so enraged at your
loss." A rich, throaty chuckle. "So sweet, so appealing, here I am,
telling you things I ought not! Against my better judgment, I will let
you know. They're quite frantic."
Touching again, obscene, gentle agony in too-intimate places. The raw
interior of the throat vibrates with a plea, and more heat spills from
"Tell me, have you --"
Nothing. Sudden silence, falling like an iron portcullis.
Nothing. No taste, no scent, no sensation. Empty, bleak. At least
despair would be something.
Then the pain flooded back.
"Ooooh, yes. Ahhh... so nice, lovely one, so very nice."
A shrill scream, then hitching sobs, like a child's. The taste of blood
in the back of the mouth.
"You're curious, aren't you? You naughty boy! There were conditions on
my acquisition of you, rules, and you're coaxing me to break them.
You're so sweet, I do so want to spoil you... I will tell you this
much. Her hands are tied. All the wards, all the curses, all the
protections in all the universes that could be placed on you, they do
no good with what your Judas gave me. You're being rubbed out. You will
have never been. All the consequences she has created to punish any who
dare to to this – Oh, yeeeesssss, yessss, yesss, bleed for me! Ah! –
any who dare do this to you, amount to nothing if you've never been. If
you're plucked out entirely."
Motion, a body being lifted, suspended, repositioned – dizzying,
disorienting swinging motions.
"Oh, don't cry. I'll remember you. So will she. There are a few of us
that exist who can remember what never was, and trust me, you'll be a
memory I cherish deeply. This time we're spending together will be a
warm treasure to bide me though the cold eons. All the stars will be
burnt away, and the last heat will fade into the blackness, and I will
still remember you. I will still love you, in my own way. You'll
want to take a deep breath, now."
A noise. A noise that no human throat could make. Dear god, let
it not be. Let it not be that something could be done to a human
body and soul that would make possible – make necessary – that
noise. Please let it not be. Please.
It went on and on, that noise no human should make. And on even longer.
"Precious, precious, beautiful boy. Your magic is the sweetest taste
I've had since the firmaments were laid down. I've been hungry for so
long, and your magic and your pain, they almost gave me a moment's
surcease then. So good. For that, sweet one, I shall grant you a boon.
Not your freedom, and not your life – nothing quite so expensive,
Aftershocks of agony, limbs convulsing in rhythm with heartbeat. Worse
than the spiking pain was the hollowness. Something taken, and the cold
left behind wasn't of the flesh. Apathy, anhedonia, despair – these
were like the spreading cold of the soul.
"A question first? Ask away, precious."
But there was still some fire left.
"Him? Oh, yes, beloved, he's fighting himself bloody to try and get to
you. He's quite impressive, I admit, but having tasted you myself, I
understand why he's so desperate to retrieve you! It's quite hopeless
for him, I'm afraid, though I do look forward to seeing how much damage
he does to himself in the attempt."
More tears, and they burned as they fell down the temples to the
hairline, trailing over damaged skin.
"Tears for him? You have them left to shed... You are a wonder. You
wish to save him from suffering? Give me his true name, and with it,
for him alone, I will hasten the erasing. You will not have existed for
him, and he will feel no need to keep pushing himself beyond human
limits to reach you – he will not even have the grief of having lost
you. Because you have pleased me so, precious Kimihiro, I will spare
him from the suffering – but you have to give me his true name."
Air moved, a susurrus, and the mouth formed shapes, but the voice was
incapable of making anything other than a scratching sound.
"No, he would not thank you for doing that. That is true. Well, if you
don't wish to do so... Your hope is a thing to marvel at, little one,
but he can not reach you. I have taken away your sight to ensure that.
I know you share an eye with him, and if you could see... If you could,
there would be the smallest chance that the link could lead him to you.
Though it is highly unlikely he would survive the trip. But I have
taken your vision. There is no link, because there is no sense for him
to share. He cannot reach you."
Stubborn. Irrational. The tremendous overflowing of energy that usually
forced an escape through wildly spastic actions was still there...
still hoped. And a will, bent and mangled but not broken, chose a boon.
"You wish me to swear to do him no harm? Ahhh, precious. He cannot
reach you, but I am old enough to have seen how unexpectedly costly
such promises can be. And he is her servant. This may not be the only
time he and I are at odds. It is not a small boon you ask, lovely one."
A pause, as though all the universe held the same breath.
"A bargain. Your word. What we did a few moments ago – I wish to do
that again. To hear that scream again. To feel my hunger cease once
again, no matter how briefly. And of course, precious, I need nothing
from you to do it again, not even your permission – but I felt your
heart stutter. I felt your soul nearly flicker out, felt how much you
wanted it to flicker out so that what you were feeling would stop. If
you die in the process, I do not get what I want – and I will have
squandered all the lesser pleasures I can exact from you. So. Pledge to
me that you will live through it. Endure it, survive, and I will take
no action to willingly and knowingly harm him. I swear this by the cold
darkness that devours all things."
A wash of cold, horror. Again? Could that be survived again?
Defeat moved away, just a little. What would flow forward to take its
A memory. The night before the world
had faded into darkness and pain.
Stronger than hope was the burning need in the chest, the need to
protect. From that came the thinnest rasp, a mockery of a voice:
The moon was high, as he sat next to
her on the long porch. She handed him a cup, and told him to drink. It
wasn't sake, he realized when he was done – this was intoxicating, but
She'd looked at him, eyes too solemn,
and had asked, "Watanuki, have you ever heard of synaesthesia?"
From immeasurably far away, Doumeki held to the the sounds, the scents,
the sensations, and most of all the pain, following the fragile thread
they made, and pushed forward.
Watanuki was expecting him.
Author's Note: My muse should
be taken out and shot. I asked for nice uncomplicated porn, and she
gave me this weird little dark experiment in point of view. Can you
help me out by answering a question or two if you comment, just to help
me with my writing technique?
First: Whose point of view do you think this is?
Second: Did the weird voice get in the way of the story? Did it break
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