Title: Hunt
Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)
Notes: My first AC fiction. A short, dark take on the brothers. Reviews are always welcome! Edited 3.10.2008.
Warnings: Dark. Rated for language, talk of rape, violence, noncon.
Disclaimer: Don't own Final Fantasy: Advent Children or its characters.
He could always tell if his current victim was a virgin long before he stripped off their clothes, or purred the question against a trembling ear.
Yes, Yazoo mused, watching tonight's prey preparing to close up shop. Something about the way a virgin struggled was very very different from someone who had experienced it before.
Maybe it was the desperation. Not that the others weren't desperate to get away of course, but there was something simply primal about the look of realization that came over a virgin's when they realized what was going to happen. At least someone with experience had the benefit of having felt someone inside them before, but the special ones had no idea what to expect and this act would probably color their view of sex for the rest of their lives.
Yazoo found it absolutely beautiful that he could cause fear, denial, repulsion, panic, desperation - a medley of human emotions he would never experience, all displayed on a single face because of that lovely thing the humans called sex.
Some of them held an illusion that they could get away and tried to fight back, attempting to scratch or bite or kick him. But he was patient, and would hold them tightly from behind they until gave in and went slack in his arms.
He was different than Loz in this aspect – Loz simply wanted the instant gratification of the sex, and had been known to break a few bones to get his victim to lay still long enough for him to get off. And for Loz, "getting off" meant thrusting as hard into a body as physically possible, touching the other person only to shift himself into a better position.
It was something Yazoo couldn't begin to understand. Where was the fun in a simple physical fuck? It was more enjoyable to take in the fear, the pain – and, something which he prided himself on, an occasional humiliating cry of orgasm. The entire experience was something to be cultivated carefully, if one was to achieve the desired results.
Although, he supposed, ducking into a darkened alleyway, Loz was simply uncultured in that respect. He couldn't appreciate the fine art of the hunt, the sharp thrills that went up his spine when he felt them whimpering against his gloved hand, or the pleading whispers as he lay above them, silver hair ghosting along their face.
He liked it when they begged him with wide eyes and seemingly endless tears running down their cheeks. It made it all the more pleasurable when he gave them a soft kiss, or brushed the hair away from their eyes, murmuring shhh or words of pseudo-comfort. Don't cry, now, don't cry. It'll be good. I promise.
"You like to mindfuck," Kadaj told him once, after spying on one of Yazoo's earlier hunts.
Tonight's victim rounded the corner, and a too-kind smile crept onto his lips.
Mindfuck. Yes, that was the right word.
