Twisted- during KotOR 2 DSF Exile, Atton, Mical triangle
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the game Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords belong to Obsidian Ent. and LucasArts.
Summary: Drama and angst involving a DS Exile, the Disciple, and Atton
A/N: Don't expect this to be cannon, or fit into the game in any way. This is just some sick, made up nonsense to go with my sick, twisted mind. It's going to be pretty dark. And it'll contain mature language and sexual content. Some readers will not like the way I've depicted the characters here. If you think any of these things might bother you, don't read this.
Twisted- by PrincessJaden
He hated her. She was beautiful and strong and ruthless and selfish. She was a tyrant. She was stubborn, and she cared about nothing, really.
But he loved her.
He didn't know when or how it had happened, but he'd become obsessed. Atton shuffled his Pazaak deck, not seeing the cards, but seeing her face. A cruel face.
From the moment he first laid eyes on her, strolling up to his cell in her underwear, he'd felt attracted to her. She had shimmering brown eyes, dark, almost black, and so much different from the dull shade that he saw in the mirror. Her hair was long and beautifully waved, as dark as his own, and endlessly more alluring. Her skin was soft, pale and translucent. It made him ache to touch her.
But it was more than that. He's watched her pretty lips spew filth his way, taunting him into thinking she'd leave his ass there to rot.
And the crueler she was to him, the more fascinated he'd become.
It was like a mission for her, spreading misery and dissension everywhere they went.
Maybe it was just who he was. A messed up part of his inner psyche that attracted him to powerful, dark sided women.
He couldn't forget how he'd felt each time he'd entered the presence of Revan after her "fall". He'd felt an almost overwhelming urge to beg her, "hurt me". He'd only held back because every time he'd seen the beautiful Sith, Malak had been at her side, and everyone knew how possessive he was.
But this was different. Infinitely more powerful. He wanted to control her. He wanted her to control him.
He'd been content with what the two of them had going until just recently. Every second the two found themselves with time to burn, she'd been all over him. She was passionate and wild, and she took everything he had to give, leaving him drained and content, if only briefly.
And she kissed him in such a way that she had to feel a bit of what he felt, didn't she?
But then they'd found that useless simpering Kath pup on Dantooine, and she'd decided it would be amusing to bring him along.
He didn't like the feel of jealousy. It tasted bitter, and it was such an unfamiliar emotion, he couldn't find a way to block it. He tried drinking, counting cards, but no dice. So he found himself doing this all to often. Brooding.
To hell with it. He thought angrily, sliding his boots down from the cockpit's command console and slamming them down to the floor with a bang. He stood up and slid his deck back into his jacket pocket. If she thinks I'm just going to cool my heals up here while she plays with her new toy, she's got another thing coming.
It was his turn to take control.
He considered using his stealth skills to sneak up on the pair, but why the hell be subtle? He stomped his way back to the cargo hold and jabbed at the door control. It slid open with a hiss, and he made his was into the room, sealing the door behind him.
The tableau that met his eyes was about what he'd expected. She lay beautifully sprawled on her back, naked amidst a pile of discarded robes. Her hair was loose, curling about her bared breasts. And Mical knelt at her feet, fully dressed, his hands in binders behind his back. His face was buried between her pale, widestretched legs, and he was using his pointed tongue to lap at her pink flesh.
Her heavy lidded eyes slid open and she gave him a lopsided smile as he approached.
He shrugged off his jacket, his gloves, and his shirt, and came to her. He knew how much of a sucker she was for his muscled chest, his tattoos, and the scars that marked his flesh. It drove her crazy.
He set a booted foot on pretty boy's shoulder and shoved, sending the younger man sprawling to the floor, away from his woman. With his hands bound, he landed heavily on his backside, and it would take him a while to right himself again.
Then Atton climbed on top of her, crushing her naked breasts with his chest, and captured her mouth in a brutal kiss.
He could feel her smiling against his lips. She thinks it's funny, huh? He felt red hot anger begin to build up inside him, and with it, a heavy dose of arousal.
He'd learned lots of useful things at his former occupation. Pleasure and pain were sides of the same coin, and he loved using random tricks from his repertoire on her.
He pulled her arms up over her head, securing them there with one strong fist. Then he grasped her throat in the other hand and started to squeeze. Softly at first, like a caress. Then more forcefully, wanting to leave bruises, cutting off her air supply. Just to let her know who was in charge.
He continued kissing her. Lingering, and after a while, he felt her body begin to shudder from the lack of oxygen.
It was all just some nasty head game, for he knew she could free herself had she tried. But she didn't want to try. She liked when he made her feel helpless. And this was something that only he, not that whimpering waste on the floor, could give her.
He waited until the delicate skin of her face was tinged blue, then he let her loose, man-handling her body into position and crouching behind her. He would take her like this. While she gasped for air, facing the weak blond kid that lay helplessly before her.
He squeezed one breast roughly as he loosened his pants, hoping to leave more bruises, more hand prints upon her body. He wanted Mical to see them and feel sick inside, like he did, when he thought of anyone touching her but himself.
It didn't matter that she refused to listen to the young Jedi wanna-be's lectures on the dark path. It didn't matter that she'd trained him, Atton, but refused to show Mical how to use the force. He hated him, for being weak and good, and everything that he couldn't be himself.
He curved his body behind hers and used his knees to spread her wide. He wanted Mical to get an eyeful.
He set his teeth against her, on the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder, biting down until his teeth touched. When her heard her cry of pain, he thrust into her body.
She was soft and warm and wonderful. And for a few short minutes, he lost himself in her. She came quick and hard, crying out like a bitch in heat. He grasped her chin in his right hand, pulling her face back enough so he could kiss her.
She belonged to him. Or at the least, he belonged to her. He held tight to her as he felt his climax wash over him, starting at the base of his balls, and flooding over his entire body.
She pulled free of him, turning in his arms. On their knees, he still towered over her, and she reached a pale hand up, brushing the hair back from his forehead.
"It's OK." She whispered.
He clutched her to him again, burrying his face in her sweet-smelling hair. He didn't want to let go, but he knew instinctively that she wanted him to.
"Shh." She whispered, as if she were comforting a child. "Just be good for me, and head back to the cockpit." He felt her small hand rubbing his bare back.
He sighed, and released her, looking into her dark eyes. Why the hell he wanted to please her so damn much was beyond him. He scooped up his things, pausing a moment to look at her again. She was beautiful. He hair was mussed, and her pale body was already beginning to show bruising around her throat, wrists, and on the outer curve of her right breast. He'd left a very nasty love bite on the side of her neck, and it appeared to be bleeding. He hoped it hurt.
He kicked Mical viciously in the stomach as he passed, and left the room.
A/N: This is my first attempt at writing things from Atton's point of view. Hope it turned out OK (and ya'll aren't thinking I'm psycho).