For Dark Ki, for being an amazing (and amazingly patient) friend. This is what you asked for~ :3 Hope you like it. This was probably one of the hardest things I've written in a long time. XD; (And it ended up a lot longer than I thought it would!) 3808 words.
WARNING: The following oneshot contains dark sexual themes including heartless and rape—Anti-Sora/Roxas.
Coup d’etat
-o-o-
When Roxas had returned to his Somebody, he had thought that his existence—or lack thereof—would have been an easy one of quiet acceptance and watching the worlds through Sora's eyes. He hadn't expected to find someone already slumbering deep within Sora's consciousness, let alone a demon.
Sora's subconscious is divided into three realms. The first reflects Sora's life, a patchwork land of his favorite places—Destiny Islands, Hollow Bastion, Traverse Town, mostly, with occasional snippets of others. And with each new world Sora visits, the collaged land of his mind rearranges itself and expands.
The second realm reflects Roxas's own favorite places. Twilight Town, especially, with some of the spots he and Axel had frequented to get away from the others.
And the third realm—a dark land of skyscrapers, wet streets, and machinery only illuminated by neon lights—belongs to another, neither Roxas nor Sora.
Here in Sora's subconscious, Roxas isn't alone. And every night, while the keyblade master sleeps soundly, the darker one comes out to play.
It has a name—Anti-Sora—and it shares Sora's features, only it's a heartless, with those luminescent eyes and colorless skin and clothes. The first time Roxas had ventured to the edges of his small realm in Sora's mind, he saw it scurrying along the edges of its own as if it were a caged animal waiting for the first opportunity to lunge for an open door. Back then, however, there had been a thin wall of light keeping it from finding that escape.
Roxas isn't sure what happened to that wall, but one day it began to fade, and now it no longer exists. With Sora asleep, Roxas and the demon have the chance to gain control of their host, and unlike Roxas, this demon has no quiet acceptance for its hidden life. It wants freedom. It wants to take over. It hungers.
Only Roxas stands between Anti-Sora and Sora's awareness, and so Roxas fights for Sora. He fears what might happen if one day he lets the darkness win. Nightmares, maybe, or worse—maybe Sora will become the demon.
It begins the same every night. When Roxas feels Sora settling down to get some sleep, he pulls away from the forefront of Sora's mind and delves into his subconscious, awakening in his own bed and pajamas in the fake Twilight Town of his patchwork realm. From there, he immediately rushes to the outskirts where the dark fringes of Anti-Sora's domain begin.
Tonight, when Roxas reaches those fringes, he realizes that they've begun to spread, slowly eating away at his own domain. For a moment, he feels fear as he wonders why the darkness is spreading. Roxas has successfully defeated Anti-Sora every night since the wall had disappeared, so shouldn't the darkness be receding, not growing?
Either the darkness is strengthening, or Sora himself is beginning to give into its temptations. If either is true, Roxas knows his nightly mission is going to get even more challenging.
Long before he even senses Anti-Sora's presence, he expects this to be a hard night.
Roxas hears the scampering of feet and sees the shadow in time to prepare himself right before the heartless comes at him from above. It slams into his back, its fingers already clawing at his hair to get a handhold, but Roxas, taking advantage of the creature's momentum, ducks and throws his weight forward to send the creature flying off his back. Anti-Sora scrambles at the air as it goes sailing through the air, and it lands perpendicular, crouched against the side of a building in front of Roxas.
Roxas meets those yellow eyes and narrows his own, feeling a stinging on his neck where the heartless has managed to cut him. Anti-Sora is expressionless, but Roxas can somehow feel the satisfaction simmering there in the creature's hollow chest.
That's strange... Usually Anti-Sora would be on him again in an instant, but, as it pauses to watch him from its perch, it seems to be almost... testing him right now.
Roxas takes this moment of freedom to rub the back of his neck to allay the pain before he summons Oathkeeper and Oblivion, ready to fight. But when the heartless doesn't spring at him to attack, Roxas hesitates, wondering where its usual ferocity is and why it doesn't seem as desperate to bypass Roxas to take advantage of Sora's unconscious state.
And there, as the heartless tilts its head and its lips pull into a knowing little smile, Roxas realizes what's so different. Anti-Sora is playing with him. It isn't acting desperate because it feels in control of the situation, whereas Roxas usually has control.
But why...? What has changed?
When he sees Anti-Sora shift slightly, Roxas tenses and lifts his keyblades, but the heartless doesn't jump. Instead, it relaxes again, still watching him with interest, as if expecting him to relax as well. Roxas doesn't. If he is being tested, he isn't about to fall for its tricks.
"Come on!" he yells, spreading his keyblades to taunt his adversary.
Anti-Sora's mouth parts with a grin at this, and Roxas abruptly feels another consciousness brush against his own like a caress of fingers. It's getting impatient, how funny, it whispers, and though Roxas has never heard it speak before, he knows they're Anti-Sora's words.
And it had just called him an it!
"I'm not like you!" he snaps at the heartless, who continues to grin.
The expression annoys him, makes him want to make the first move on his own, but he doesn't. He waits. He can be patient. He doesn't know what the heartless is planning, but he doesn't want to set himself up for failure.
The two of us are brothers, the voice slithers through his mind again. It feels like it wants to envelope his senses, take control of them, and a chill runs through Roxas as he thinks it might be the darkness doing it. The statement seems to be more of a certainty than a suggestion, and the thought of it being true sickens him deep down where he can feel.
"Shut up!"
But as the words leave his mouth, Anti-Sora suddenly moves, melting into the shadows on the wall, and Roxas has a split second to react to its disappearance before he senses the heartless under him, inky hands now grabbing at him from below. He jerks away from them and swings his keyblades around, cutting at Anti-Sora as it springs from the ground, reflecting the fluid movement of a large predator pouncing on its prey.
Though Roxas's aim is perfect, he somehow still misses because, with Anti-Sora prowling on all-fours and ducking and twisting away from the blades like a damn contortionist lion, he can't find a good opening. And when Roxas brings his weapons around to slice at his enemy from both sides, it almost seems as if the heartless is two steps ahead of him, predicting the attack and acting ahead.
Anti-Sora lunges forward, hands outstretched, and before Roxas can stop himself, he's been caught. Icy hands clamp around his wrists and sharp nails dig into his skin as Anti-Sora jerks him close and narrows its glowing eyes at him, speaking into his mind again.
Two halves of a whole, born from the same self-sacrifice.
Roxas tries to wrench his arms away from the heartless, but the creature's grip is relentless, only tightening as Roxas struggles more, traces of panic and anger rising inside of him. "Let go—!" he yells.
This has never happened before, and it almost frightens him. He's not sure what to do with the heartless acting this way, with intelligence and trying to manipulate him. And Roxas has never lost before—except to Riku—but not this easily, not without both of them taking multiple wounds. This time, he hasn't even touched his opponent.
Surprised?
Roxas grimaces more at the voice than the pressure on his wrists, not quite feeling pain. Here, pain is only as real as he makes it—like the feeling of being stabbed in a dream and, though painless, still feeling the effects of the wound when waking up. Though the strength behind Anti-Sora's grip and the ease in which it had caught Roxas is enough to draw suspicion—suspicion that the heartless might have had this planned all along.
"I can't feel," he replies, keeping his voice curt.
I think you're lying.
One of Roxas's arms is freed, and without thinking, he jerks his keyblade forward for an attack. It hits the heartless and cuts into its shoulder, but hardly fazes the creature, who is concentrating on something else. Roxas isn't expecting a dark hand to sink right into his chest, and he's definitely not expecting the hand to find anything there. But it does.
Fingers wrap around something inside of him and gently squeeze, and Roxas's entire body gives out on him instantly. He gasps, the sound piercing the air as he collapses against the heartless, his keyblades disappearing from his hands as his world momentarily blacks out. As he comes to a second later, he finds himself being shoved onto his stomach, his knees scraping against the ground. Fingers tighten in his hair and press his cheek against the wet pavement, and as much as he struggles, he can't push against the cold, firm body suddenly pinning him.
Did you feel that?
"Rrrgh... Get off..."
It's not a real heart—just a shadow of one—but it's
enough.
Enough for what, Roxas doesn't want to know. "You could have done this to me last night, or any of the other nights before," he says, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles more, disbelieving that he's in this situation, refusing to acknowledge that he's been beaten by his own heartless. "You've been studying me all along, haven't you? Losing on purpose!"
You're strong—but anyone can determine how strong someone is.
And by hiding its own strength, it had led Roxas into a false sense of security, and now Roxas has to try to determine what he doesn't know about the heartless, what strength he hasn't seen, and fear what he doesn't know.
Roxas shivers as the street's moisture seeps into his
clothes, and an icy palm slips under his night shirt to trace up his spine, a
gentleness to the touch that makes him think about Axel.
You can feel him, too, can't you?
The voice curls against the edges of his mind and trickles darkness through him. Roxas is having a hard time following the heartless's statements. "Who?" he asks with effort, distracted by the touches and the reminder of Axel.
Our host.
Sora.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Roxas fights back another shiver, this time as Anti-Sora's hand presses between his shoulder blades and slowly begins to sink into his chest again, sharp fingernails brushing against the ghost of the heart that Roxas hadn't been aware of. The small touches are like pinpricks, but each one slackens his body and numbs his mind, leaving him defenseless, open to the heartless's whims.
You can feel it, too. His innocence, his heart...
He can.
Sora's an open book when it comes to his heart, but Roxas always avoids tapping into that part of his consciousness. Those are memories and feelings that no longer belong to him, but Sora, and Roxas doesn't want to be reminded of what he can't have.
All of those ripe emotions waiting to be harvested...
Devoured...
Trapped here beneath Anti-Sora with its hand around his not-heart, he can't shield himself from the darkness. Even as the heartless speaks, Roxas can feel its presence inside of him, influencing him.
He's asleep. Vulnerable. You can become him.
Become Sora? A chance to live again?
It's tempting... Roxas has to admit it's tempting.
But what would happen to Sora?
All you have to do is... reach in... find his heart...
The hand holding his cheek against the ground pulls away, and he lifts his face, blinking dazedly at the street leading into Anti-Sora's domain. The darkness has spread, the fringes have crept farther into his peaceful Twilight Town, and seeing that, it almost hurts.
He wants to fight. He wishes it was as easy as protecting himself, but he's not—he's protecting Sora. The heartless wants him to tap into Sora's heart, and he knows he can. But the first time he had done it had been his last, for good reason.
So he lies. Or tries to.
"I c-can't..." he says, hardly noticing his stammer as his body shudders at the cold.
If you can use those weapons of his, the heartless hisses, you can access his heart. Do it.
The hand inside of him squeezes again, this time not gently, and he clenches his jaw, writhing underneath the heartless, his fingers clawing at the ground. "Rr-rgh..." The growl vibrates in his throat as he struggles, but the more he does, he can sense Anti-Sora's own feelings wash through him, a mixture of delight and hunger for more.
Roxas doesn't want to do this—he doesn't want to feel Sora's emotions. He's safer in his numb little world where he feels only nuances of emotion, and he wants it to stay that way. If he reaches into Sora's heart, he knows what he'll find.
Memories of friends that aren't his, of loves he can't have, of a home that isn't his, of experiences good and bad that he doesn't remember doing. Memories that, even though they don't belong to him, still fill him with envy.
Use it. Use his emotions.
But at the same time, a piece of him thinks the heartless is right. He does want to exist. He doesn't want to fade away inside of Sora like a forgotten conversation. He wants to draw his own breath, he wants to look in the mirror and see himself, he...
He wants.
Desire is an emotion, too.
Roxas wrenches his eyes shut again and fights back the pressure building there, a burning, and though he never felt this as Roxas, instinct reminds him what it is. Tears. But he can't cry—he's a Nobody. Nobodies don't have hearts.
...but Sora does.
Feel them.
Emotions begin to filter through him, things he would have been feeling on his own right now, had he been real. Pain—a deep ache inside of him, gnawing, a twisting anxiety. And panic—he doesn't want to hurt Sora. Fear, one of the most powerful, filling him with trepidation, his body beginning to shiver nonstop as he thinks about what Anti-Sora might have in store for him. And, yes, there was also that desire, that longing for existence.
They all swell inside of him, a rising storm of feelings that are his but aren't at the same time—just borrowed from Sora—but because Roxas has felt only their shadows for the longest time, the blend of so many powerful emotions hurts. The stinging in his eyes intensifies, and warmth pools on his lashes, dripping onto the wet stone beneath him.
Yes... Like that. Just like that...
Anti-Sora's voice has become a pleased purr, and the heartless shifts on top of him, pressing closer, its fingers lovingly stroking his heart before pulling away. Roxas shudders, and this time it feels nice, his not-heart missing the touches.
Disgusted with his unbidden feelings, Roxas tries to focus on something else. Why is this happening to him? Why does the heartless bother going to him instead of Sora himself?
"What... what do you want from me...?" he asks, and the heartless first responds by touching him again, its cold hands cupping his waist, fingers brushing his warm skin in admiration. Then they begin to slide his shorts down his hips, sending Roxas's mind reeling with alarm. He flinches, then tenses and begins to try throwing the heartless off again, but that cruel hand slips back between his shoulder blades and curls around him again, making him immobile.
You should have figured it out by now.
The other chilly hand draws down his abdomen and into his lowered shorts, shamelessly touching him and making him cringe at the nice thrills that move through him.
He doesn't want to feel this of all things while he can feel anything at all—he doesn't want to feel it like this, not from... it...
"S-Stop...!" he gasps out, trying to rise onto his knees, one of his own hands reaching down to dig into the heartless's wrist. "What are you doing?!"
He trembles as Anti-Sora's feelings creep into him again with his words, a deep, festering lust beneath everything, and his stomach churns as his body involuntarily responds to it, warmth spreading through him as the heartless's touches turn sensual, caressing him into arousal as he tries to deny that this is happening.
"A-Ahhn.... no..."
He groans, trying to close himself off, but it's already too late. Anti-Sora's fingers rape his not-heart and rob him of his own free will, leaving Sora's emotions bare for him to feed upon. Roxas can't fight it, but he tries, and while he can't stop the heartless completely, he manages to squirm and fight off the hand inside of him.
I can't reach him directly like you can, the voice continues, still purring a little.
The heartless's fingers tighten around his erection and
stroke, coaxing him to respond. Roxas doesn't. He grits his teeth and holds
himself back, a shred of defiance remaining inside of him.
He can't reach me, either, Anti-Sora says, and Roxas
feels the heartless draw closer, hips brushing against his backside, and a
hardness nudges against him. He knows what the hardness is, but how a heartless
can feel desire this intense is beyond his knowledge. It must be from feeding
on Sora's emotions, the ones Roxas can't protect. But through you,
with you channeling his heart... I can do anything I want to him.
The sickness is fading, his mind beginning to succumb to his body as the pleasure rises, not even the heartless's cold body bothering him anymore as heat builds in his gut. He tries to fight this, but he's never felt emotion this deep before, and it's intoxicating, rendering him almost willing.
And soon, I won't even need you anymore.
He tells himself not to give in, not to enjoy this—it's so wrong on so many levels, and if he lets this heartless win control, Sora will suffer.
Playing martyr?
A face nuzzles into the back of his neck as Anti-Sora's hand strokes harder, fingers pressing in exactly the right areas, sending more pleasure spiraling through him. He shakes his head, unable to hold back a groan, and when it fills the air, it sounds strained, bordering on broken.
He gave us life, but now he denies us freedom.
He lifts his hips, his body quivering as Sora's emotions escalate, and Anti-Sora takes advantage of the space to slip Roxas's shorts down farther. He flinches again when the heartless's free hand touches the back of his thigh and slides upward. Fingers push into him, and he chokes out a cry.
He denies we even exist.
It hurts.
Everything hurts.
The fingers working inside of him, stretching and tearing him. His own fingers as they scrape at the pavement. His eyes with salty tears stinging them.
And this tide of emotions threatening to spill out of him, worse than all of the others.
Let's show him. Let's show him we exist.
"I-I don't care anymore...!" he forces out, his voice ringing and reverberating throughout the tall, dark buildings, mocking him as it returns to him as shrill echoes. "I gave up, so he could..."
But he trails off, biting his tongue as the fingers press deeper inside of him and Anti-Sora's other hand slips down to rub at the base of his cock. He fights back another groan, and instead, a whimper escapes him, tense and angry.
Could live? the heartless finishes for him.
Roxas pushes against the ground, his knees raw from the effort, but it's all he can do to keep from rocking forward into the heartless's hand and giving in to this torturous pleasure. His body feels like a taut string, every one of his muscles tense and quivering, ready to be strung or snapped. He wants more than anything to snap right now, just so he won't have to feel anymore.
The fingers slide out of him, allowing him a moment of relaxation, but his nerves are left alert, expecting something worse, something that actually might break his resolve.
You can't lie to me.
The voice has become low, dangerous, still sinfully soft as it wraps around his mind, a velveteen blanket of darkness. And when Anti-Sora, bare and rigid, presses into him, he doesn't tense at first, not until it really hurts, not until his mind clears and he remembers that this is supposed to be wrong, and he's supposed to be protecting Sora.
Protect Sora...
It seems like a joke, now.
You want to be free as much as I do.
And as the heartless rocks against him, sinking deeper, Roxas feels something else filling him to the core with chilling depth, all of his emotions bleeding away into nothing. All of his emotions except two. The pleasure remains, as does the pain, but the fear, the panic, the anxiety and everything that had held Roxas back—they all fade, and he realizes that this chilling depth is the same hollowness he's felt all of his so-called existence.
Another little piece of his resolve crumbles, and he presses his face against the wet street, giving in to the heartless's desire, its hunger. It can drain these emotions if it wants, just as long as Roxas doesn't have to feel again.
One day, he knows, there won't be anything left for Anti-Sora to fight. And when that happens, Sora will come face to face with his inner demon.
For now, he prays his sacrifice is enough.
-o-o-
When Leon finally managed to wake Sora up from his troubled sleep, he didn't ask the boy why he had been groaning or why there were dried tear tracks on his cheeks. Sora felt slightly delirious, groggier than usual, and when he repeatedly insisted he was fine, Leon got the hint and left him alone. Which was good. For some reason, despite how horrible his sleep had felt, he had still managed to wake up with a damn woody.
Not for the first time cursing his teenage body, Sora rolled over onto his stomach and hugged the pillow of his borrowed bed in Hollow Bastion. He couldn't remember what his dreams had been about, but for some reason, he didn't ever want to fall asleep again.
-o-o-
Fin.