Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Devil You Know ❯ The Devil You Know ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Luna Rain Glimmer 
A dance of deceit brings the birth of a son, a new world order, and a fresh beginning. Tifa/Sephiroth
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Romance | Type: Poetry | Uploaded On: 06.10.2011 | Updated On: 11.20.2011 | Pages: 4 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 336 | Status: Completed
A dance of deceit brings the birth of a son, a new world order, and a fresh beginning. Tifa/Sephiroth
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Romance | Type: Poetry | Uploaded On: 06.10.2011 | Updated On: 11.20.2011 | Pages: 4 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 336 | Status: Completed
I was so inspired by Drizzit's Solitude, that I emailed the author and asked for permission to do a sequel/long poem on what I perceived would happen after the last chapter. To my extreme delight, I was granted permission.
Warning: this is a pretty dark tale. It involves mentions of sex, blood and gore, as well as a lot of Cloud manipulation. This is what I thought would happen after the last chapter. Written from Tifa's POV first, and then at the end we are given Sephiroth's perspective. I personally think these two would bring on the Apocalypse.
All rights belong to SE, Nomura, and of course, Drizzit for making such an amazing tale. I own nothing.
Straddled, cornered, ushered
Into the corner of the bed.
Sheets rustle, crinkling with the touch
Of warm bodies, of my body all over yours.
Blue eyes go wide, those eyes I was once so in thrall of.
They never once looked at me with anything other than
Friendship, apathy, and concern.
Watch me undress, watch me twirl for you.
Fabric goes everywhere, littering the floor-boards
Bringing life into this drab room, a drab life.
Watch me gyrate, spin.
Watch me tease you.
Place your hands on me, all over me.
Place your hands there, tease me there.
Lick, caress, nudge…that's the spot.
There's a good little puppet.
Don't think I was blind to the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
In your passion, in your libido.
I'm flattered that my seduction was that lingering.
You will never satisfy me however.
My heart, my soul, my body belongs to only one.
I belong to my beloved phantom.
Look at me now with new infatuation, with new delirium.
Kiss my mouth, my lips.
Touch me.
My hips, my breasts, my legs...touch as if you have never touched before.
Slide into me now and there's no pain.
Pretending to whimper has never been such a fun pretense.
Thrust, gasp, moan.
Pretend, play, push.
My hands reach for your hair, and I tangle my fingers within.
I close my eyes and imagine not the gold of sunlight
But the mercurial strands of moonlight that I adore.
In my fantasy, blue-eyes become slitted-peridot
Your unsightly build becomes all muscle.
How I could have thought that this pathetic reality
Was better than my dreams will always be beyond my understanding.
One night, several hours.
Lips, a swollen mouth.
A satisfied sigh marks a permanent smirk on my mouth.
Mission complete, my love.
Pretend once more to "adore" you.
Entwine your fingers with mine, and you look at me tenderly.
I return the look with wide, caring eyes.
Time passes, slipping through the hour-glass.
Sand through glass, glittering like gold-nuggets.
I can hide it no longer, that beautiful bulge of life.
Reveal my secret to you, this beautiful secret within me.
"It's yours."
Panic fills your eyes and then...endless love.
Love from you? What a joke.
Touch my stomach, speak to my child.
The child that you think is your own.
Whispers of painting a room, of making a nursery.
Murmurs of apologies fall upon deaf-ears.
I am blinded towards you, towards everything and everyone around me.
Shapes blur, forming a new reality.
Sounds waver, uncovering a new world.
Victory has never tasted better.
Sin has never felt so sweet.
Desire fills me, and hope stirs my soul.
On tainted-wings you'll return.
I'm growing, ever-growing.
Instinctively, my hands surround my stomach.
A warm glow dusts my face, my cheeks.
Maternal natures, a future of nurturing awaits me.
I am the Nightmare's Lover, the Queen upon a throne of bones.
The world will envelop in flames and his arms will encircle me.
His arms will hold our child, and we'll play in the ashes together.
A kick, a plea, a moan: it's time.
Lock the door, exclaiming I want to do this myself.
As if any of them would understand.
The child isn't yours, little puppet.
Not with pure lapis-eyes, or a head full of messy, spiked-hair.
But a beautiful baby with clear Mako eyes, silver-hair, and the most perfect skin.
To the bed now;
Push, mumble, groan.
Force back the screams, and push once more.
I am the mother of the world's demise; I can't afford to be weak now.
The door knocks, banging several times against the hinges.
Pleas of insistence, of "helping. "
As if you could ever help me.
Hours pass, dripping like the sweat down my face.
My throat is raw from withholding screams.
Water, sweet water and then once more.
Pain, intense and searing, ripping and tearing from my womb.
Blood, blood everywhere...so much red.
And then…a cry.
A small, beautiful cry.
Ignoring the gore, the mess, I reach down and cradle my little son.
Perfect in every way: white-hair, green-eyes, a small mouth, pinched and open.
Screaming, announcing that he is alive.
"There there beloved, momma's here."
Hours pass once more, hours of bliss, of complete warmth.
My child is beautiful, our child is beautiful.
He is mine, ours.
Step from the bed, strip the sheets and turn on the tub.
My son comes first, always first.
Wash his precious body, his tiny hands and feet, that small stomach and fragile head.
Lather and repeat.
Pain is a part of the journey; pleasure awaits me.
Screams fill the air then, coating the air with agony and malice.
Cries of hatred, of shock, of death.
He is killing them all, one by one, to get to me.
Do it, my specter.
I hum sweet songs amidst the symphony of slaughter.
Toy with the water, play with my son's hands.
Patticake, patticake...
When silence emulates and the sunlight fades, I know it's time to leave.
Step from the water, holding my little son close.
To the mirror first, to the mirror that was once so broken and splintered.
In the reflection stands a woman, strong and endearing, with her infant son.
I'm the Queen of Nightmare, of foreboding.
Walk out, walk on, walk into your arms.
stststststst
There she is, the woman who bares my scar, the woman who bore my son.
Perfect, dark, and sinister
So like myself.
For her, I lit up the skies with fire.
For her, I burnt the old life to the ground.
Flames cleanse, flames heal.
Ashes swirl, teasing her face, her lips, that mouth that I reveled in kissing.
For my Queen of Nightmare, I killed off all the lullabies
The soothing sounds of her friends, her haunts, her old life.
Never again will they touch her.
The shadows beckon with a willing hand, gesturing for the guiding darkness.
Blackness will be our cowl.
Ruby eyes, eyes of the fire, of the phoenix.
Burning, blazing, beatific
Such joy when she sees me, a joy that lights up her face.
I am her specter, her shadow, and her very voice.
She gestures to her arms and I nod, wishing to hold the child.
My son is precious, beautiful, perfect.
Small-eyes meet mine and in them I see a world of possibilities.
He is my heir to destruction, and a beautiful Queen reigns with me.
"You will never again know solitude."
She smiles, and her embrace is my willing void.
Wing of the dusk, wing of the night.
Feathers of ebony, of velvet.
To the skies, to a new world.
Plans, such plans...no man has ever accomplished such a mission alone.
Oblivion comes, oblivion smiles.
From the vantage point, she sees the destruction of her once home.
The 7th Heaven, the cloud-nine she once owned and lived in.
She smiles, watching it burn, and I love her all the more for that smile.
Carnage delights her, and manipulation becomes her.
The puppet strings fall off her arms, dissolving into thin-air.
Oxygen permeates her bones, making her a real body.
Never will she be anything but my equal.
"I love you." Fingertips into my gloved hands.
Love is a fickle thing, tempting mankind, making them sing, cry...weep.
But with her it's something to be enjoyed, a different sort of love.
"If I knew love before you, it was hidden."
More smiles.
I gather her in my arms, and my son looks towards me, up at me.
Almost as if he knows what is to come, what brillancy is about to be conjured.
The world will be mine and I will split it in quarters: for me, for my Queen, and for my heir.
Something has come from solitude: a new world order.
Converting /tmp/phpwxsgFA to /dev/stdout
Warning: this is a pretty dark tale. It involves mentions of sex, blood and gore, as well as a lot of Cloud manipulation. This is what I thought would happen after the last chapter. Written from Tifa's POV first, and then at the end we are given Sephiroth's perspective. I personally think these two would bring on the Apocalypse.
All rights belong to SE, Nomura, and of course, Drizzit for making such an amazing tale. I own nothing.
Straddled, cornered, ushered
Into the corner of the bed.
Sheets rustle, crinkling with the touch
Of warm bodies, of my body all over yours.
Blue eyes go wide, those eyes I was once so in thrall of.
They never once looked at me with anything other than
Friendship, apathy, and concern.
Watch me undress, watch me twirl for you.
Fabric goes everywhere, littering the floor-boards
Bringing life into this drab room, a drab life.
Watch me gyrate, spin.
Watch me tease you.
Place your hands on me, all over me.
Place your hands there, tease me there.
Lick, caress, nudge…that's the spot.
There's a good little puppet.
Don't think I was blind to the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
In your passion, in your libido.
I'm flattered that my seduction was that lingering.
You will never satisfy me however.
My heart, my soul, my body belongs to only one.
I belong to my beloved phantom.
Look at me now with new infatuation, with new delirium.
Kiss my mouth, my lips.
Touch me.
My hips, my breasts, my legs...touch as if you have never touched before.
Slide into me now and there's no pain.
Pretending to whimper has never been such a fun pretense.
Thrust, gasp, moan.
Pretend, play, push.
My hands reach for your hair, and I tangle my fingers within.
I close my eyes and imagine not the gold of sunlight
But the mercurial strands of moonlight that I adore.
In my fantasy, blue-eyes become slitted-peridot
Your unsightly build becomes all muscle.
How I could have thought that this pathetic reality
Was better than my dreams will always be beyond my understanding.
One night, several hours.
Lips, a swollen mouth.
A satisfied sigh marks a permanent smirk on my mouth.
Mission complete, my love.
Pretend once more to "adore" you.
Entwine your fingers with mine, and you look at me tenderly.
I return the look with wide, caring eyes.
Time passes, slipping through the hour-glass.
Sand through glass, glittering like gold-nuggets.
I can hide it no longer, that beautiful bulge of life.
Reveal my secret to you, this beautiful secret within me.
"It's yours."
Panic fills your eyes and then...endless love.
Love from you? What a joke.
Touch my stomach, speak to my child.
The child that you think is your own.
Whispers of painting a room, of making a nursery.
Murmurs of apologies fall upon deaf-ears.
I am blinded towards you, towards everything and everyone around me.
Shapes blur, forming a new reality.
Sounds waver, uncovering a new world.
Victory has never tasted better.
Sin has never felt so sweet.
Desire fills me, and hope stirs my soul.
On tainted-wings you'll return.
I'm growing, ever-growing.
Instinctively, my hands surround my stomach.
A warm glow dusts my face, my cheeks.
Maternal natures, a future of nurturing awaits me.
I am the Nightmare's Lover, the Queen upon a throne of bones.
The world will envelop in flames and his arms will encircle me.
His arms will hold our child, and we'll play in the ashes together.
A kick, a plea, a moan: it's time.
Lock the door, exclaiming I want to do this myself.
As if any of them would understand.
The child isn't yours, little puppet.
Not with pure lapis-eyes, or a head full of messy, spiked-hair.
But a beautiful baby with clear Mako eyes, silver-hair, and the most perfect skin.
To the bed now;
Push, mumble, groan.
Force back the screams, and push once more.
I am the mother of the world's demise; I can't afford to be weak now.
The door knocks, banging several times against the hinges.
Pleas of insistence, of "helping. "
As if you could ever help me.
Hours pass, dripping like the sweat down my face.
My throat is raw from withholding screams.
Water, sweet water and then once more.
Pain, intense and searing, ripping and tearing from my womb.
Blood, blood everywhere...so much red.
And then…a cry.
A small, beautiful cry.
Ignoring the gore, the mess, I reach down and cradle my little son.
Perfect in every way: white-hair, green-eyes, a small mouth, pinched and open.
Screaming, announcing that he is alive.
"There there beloved, momma's here."
Hours pass once more, hours of bliss, of complete warmth.
My child is beautiful, our child is beautiful.
He is mine, ours.
Step from the bed, strip the sheets and turn on the tub.
My son comes first, always first.
Wash his precious body, his tiny hands and feet, that small stomach and fragile head.
Lather and repeat.
Pain is a part of the journey; pleasure awaits me.
Screams fill the air then, coating the air with agony and malice.
Cries of hatred, of shock, of death.
He is killing them all, one by one, to get to me.
Do it, my specter.
I hum sweet songs amidst the symphony of slaughter.
Toy with the water, play with my son's hands.
Patticake, patticake...
When silence emulates and the sunlight fades, I know it's time to leave.
Step from the water, holding my little son close.
To the mirror first, to the mirror that was once so broken and splintered.
In the reflection stands a woman, strong and endearing, with her infant son.
I'm the Queen of Nightmare, of foreboding.
Walk out, walk on, walk into your arms.
stststststst
There she is, the woman who bares my scar, the woman who bore my son.
Perfect, dark, and sinister
So like myself.
For her, I lit up the skies with fire.
For her, I burnt the old life to the ground.
Flames cleanse, flames heal.
Ashes swirl, teasing her face, her lips, that mouth that I reveled in kissing.
For my Queen of Nightmare, I killed off all the lullabies
The soothing sounds of her friends, her haunts, her old life.
Never again will they touch her.
The shadows beckon with a willing hand, gesturing for the guiding darkness.
Blackness will be our cowl.
Ruby eyes, eyes of the fire, of the phoenix.
Burning, blazing, beatific
Such joy when she sees me, a joy that lights up her face.
I am her specter, her shadow, and her very voice.
She gestures to her arms and I nod, wishing to hold the child.
My son is precious, beautiful, perfect.
Small-eyes meet mine and in them I see a world of possibilities.
He is my heir to destruction, and a beautiful Queen reigns with me.
"You will never again know solitude."
She smiles, and her embrace is my willing void.
Wing of the dusk, wing of the night.
Feathers of ebony, of velvet.
To the skies, to a new world.
Plans, such plans...no man has ever accomplished such a mission alone.
Oblivion comes, oblivion smiles.
From the vantage point, she sees the destruction of her once home.
The 7th Heaven, the cloud-nine she once owned and lived in.
She smiles, watching it burn, and I love her all the more for that smile.
Carnage delights her, and manipulation becomes her.
The puppet strings fall off her arms, dissolving into thin-air.
Oxygen permeates her bones, making her a real body.
Never will she be anything but my equal.
"I love you." Fingertips into my gloved hands.
Love is a fickle thing, tempting mankind, making them sing, cry...weep.
But with her it's something to be enjoyed, a different sort of love.
"If I knew love before you, it was hidden."
More smiles.
I gather her in my arms, and my son looks towards me, up at me.
Almost as if he knows what is to come, what brillancy is about to be conjured.
The world will be mine and I will split it in quarters: for me, for my Queen, and for my heir.
Something has come from solitude: a new world order.
Converting /tmp/phpwxsgFA to /dev/stdout