This is a strange fic for me, as well as just a sort of quick li'l plot. I've never really thought of taking my story down this sorta path before, until I started reading some of the 'R' rated fanfics and got some ideas. This is about a woman who is sort of the female Legato, not physically but mentally and psychologically, a pet of the Master Knives, and it was somewhat inspired by this one story I heard, trying to explain the relationship between Knives and Legato, I think it was called "Cruelty and the Beast".
To those die-hard Trigun lovers out there, who get mad when they see an episode or two copied down into a fic and warped to the writer's ways, well, screw you :) I'm warpin' this the way I wanna, and if you got problems, sue me!
((No, don't sue me really, I'm as broke as hell, honest...))
This is actually quite a bit more serious than my other fics, so I want to hear some praise or criticism to know what I'm doing right or wrong. ((Not like I'd listen anyways, but, hey, what the hell, if it floats your boat...lol))
Everyone knows the rules about disclaimers and all, but I do own MY characters, though if you want to take something from this just tell me. I'll listen, I promise...((crosses fingers))
Anyways, read and review!
((Oh, anyways, I switch off on different POV's with little ---- lines, since FanFiction won't let me do underbar lines to cut off different parts (evil!). But if it says something between it, like ---flashback--- or such, well, then it's a flashback or such. So, I just wanted to tell ya in case it got too confusing.))
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Let me make your mind
Leave yourself behind
...Be Not Afraid
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She dangled from the chains around her wrists, against the wall, as the metal instrument sliced through her bare flesh. She wanted to cry out, make the agony stop, but knew that if she did, he would only make it worse.
The carving stopped, but the pain still throbbed. "Do you know why I'm doing this?" That cold, chilling voice said an inch away from her ear, as a hand touched her lips almost teasingly.
"Because I have displeased you," she answered in a trembling, weary voice.
"And why is that?" The voice came again. She shuddered.
"Because I am imperfect."
"Yes," he said, and the slicing pain came again, carving along her bare chest, across her stomach, cutting above her navel deep enough to make her gasp. She heard him, her Master, laugh, a cold, cynical sound, and felt his lips caress her mouth, his tongue touching her delicately. It might've been intimate with any other person, but not with Millions Knives, Master. One of His power couldn't, wouldn't ever be intimate with the likes of her. But how she craved it, wanted more. More, she thought, then regretted it. He pulled away, and the metal slicer punctured her flesh, digging deep enough to scrape her ribs.
"Your kind, such weak and vile spiders, caring not for anyone else but themselves. Why do I even keep you with me?" At those last words the cutting lightened considerably, but traced across her stomach in a manner that was delicate but could become threatening.
"To serve you, Master," she answered, her voice monotone from bearing the pain.
"And why do I keep you to serve me?"
She didn't understand the question, and her confusion must've flashed in her dark blue, almost black eyes, for the Plant's face suddenly twisted with anger, and the slicer gouged into her stomach. She choked out a gasp, and wanted to scream, but she had suffered through this enough times in her ten years under his service to understand that to scream was to invite another round of pain. Her head drooped, and her eyes closed. She didn't want to bear this anymore, but her Master was right. She was imperfect, and so she was suffering.
"Look at me, Morgaine," he said, and before she could raise her head herself, his hands grasped her jawbone tightly, raising her face to look into his. Very rarely could she stare into those icy blue depths, but she was so tired and in such pain that she didn't have the energy to feel that flash of nervous self-consciousness that one got when looking into the eyes of one's better. As if reading that in her face, his grip loosened, and he smiled, almost sweetly, almost serenely. He kissed her lips again, his tongue entering her mouth and searching every crevice, and she held deathly still, not even breathing, afraid to invoke Master's wrath at such a fragile moment. Eventually he drew back, and his hand dropped from her face. The pain didn't start again, and she sighed in relief, allowing the pain to wash over her and her mind to go black.
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I hope you like the first chappie. I just wanted to try this from a bit more of a "sensual" point of view. And I also wanted to do something with my god, Knives, in it :)
Next chapter is coming soon!
-Wolf