Basic Training [Digital Devil Saga, Varin/Bat, NC-17]

[syvia.livejournal.com]

Title: Basic Training
Author/Artist: syvia
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: domination, humiliation, military kink, bloodletting, abuse
Word Count: 1768
Summary: There are many ways to ensure loyalty. Some more effective than others.
Prompt: - Digital Devil Saga: Varin/Bat - Dom/Sub, Military Kink, Restraints and/or Humilitation - "Blindfold the Blind."



The Maribel traitor wanted to join his Tribe.... No, that wasn't quite true. The Maribel traitor wanted amnesty and was willing to work with his Tribe. Problem was, he couldn't be trusted.

He trusted his soldiers- loyal fighters, all of them, all tried and true, all worthy of their colors. Blind faith in this one would be stupid... he wouldn't trust Bat's integrity, but it might be possible to trust his determination. Varin- Colonel Beck- eyed the traitor. He would see how far Bat was willing to go to earn a place among the Brutes.

He paced around the shorter man slowly, letting the anticipation build.

Beck waited, listened to Bat's fingers twitch. He laced fingers through damp locks of hair, tightened abruptly and yanked backward.

Bat let out a startled grunt and reached- and slowly moved his hand away from the knives on his back.

"Good," Beck murmured, voice a low growl. Ravana hovered in his mind, ready to eclipse him, ready to shield him from sight. He pushed the demon back and studied the tightness of Bat's eyes, the pained grimace and flexing muscles.

"From this moment on, you do exactly as I tell you. You will respond to every command by saying 'Sir, yes sir.' and you will follow the command. The first time you fail to do so, I'll kill you."

He let that sink in for a moment.

"Am I understood?"

Grudgingly, through gritted teeth, "Sir... yes sir."

"Your knives. Take them off and place them on the table."

He let go of Bat although he stayed close, tempting- daring the shorter man to attack him.

"Sir, yes sir," he murmured. His voice was more controlled this time, but there was more reluctance in his movements as he reached for the buckles of his harness- then stopped, thought about it, before reaching back and drawing his weapons, slowly, not a threat, and setting them down. Clear insolence in the spread of his fingers and the sidelong glance he threw in Beck's face as he let them go.

"Good boy," Beck said with a smile and more condescension than he felt. Bat twitched, almost grimaced, and that was satisfying. "Your armor. Remove that next."

"Sir, yes sir."

The traitor liked that even less, but tried to bluff, smirking a little and making a show of it, pulling at his armor slowly, opening just enough so that he could remove it- and the edges of the protective covering drew lines across his bodysuit. His muscles twitched. Beck walked a little ways from him, standing where he could watch, could remain in Bat's line of sight and meet the falsely provocative gaze. He looked Bat over as he had once looked at a dog he considered buying.

He couldn't remember when or why.

He didn't know if the traitor could have appreciated his analogy, but Bat didn't like the treatment. His jaw tightened. Beck could almost hear the grind of his teeth. Bat held Beck's gaze for as long as he could- dropped it as he reached for the crotch piece.

"No."

Bat stopped.

When Beck said nothing, Bat straightened up and looked him in the eyes again. "Sir?"

"Leave that. The shoes next."

"Sir, yes sir," Bat said quietly, stepping on the heels to remove his footwear- unwilling to bend and make himself vulnerable. He was already vulnerable but continued to go through the motions of protecting himself.

The traitor did as instructed and stood waiting.

"What color is your pelvic guard?"

Bat's cheek twitched, but he was smart enough not to respond with sarcasm, "Red, sir."

"Why?"

Even more, the look in his face suggested Beck was a moron, but his voice was controlled.

"It's the color of the Maribel Tribe, sir."

"You aren't Maribel anymore."

He hadn't given a command or asked a question. Bat remained still, tensed at the statement, but he didn't respond. Beck set a measured pace forward, stopped at Bat’s shoulder and leaned close.

His tone was harsh, scornful, "There is no Maribel."

There was a flinch there. For all that he'd betrayed them, Bat had belonged to the tribe. He still thought of himself as belonging.

"The Maribel have been eaten." Beck stood close at his back as he stepped, turned on his heel and leaned forward to speak in Bat's other ear. "The Maribel have been devoured and conquered. The Maribel no longer exist." He watched Bat's hands curl into fists, shake with the tightness of his grip. "They no longer exist," Beck softened his voice, "because they were weak."

When he stepped far enough from Bat to see his eyes, the traitor's gaze was trained downward- on his knives.

"But you aren't weak, are you?"

"No, sir."

Varin backhanded him into the wall.

Bat was shocked for a second, it was obvious in his face- then he lunged and Beck caught him- gripped him by the front of his bodysuit and thrust him against the wall.

"Sir, yes sir!" he screamed into the traitor's face. "That is how you answer- do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!" he cried.

Varin punched him in the jaw, letting go as he did. Letting the strike throw him to the floor. He smelled blood- watched it stain Bat's lips.

"You aren't weak, are you?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Bat screamed, even though he still didn't understand and his glare was poisonous as he didn't try to move from his sprawl on the floor. His teeth were red as well.

"You are weak?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Because you weren't strong enough to fight off the Embryon," Beck said, and allowed Bat a moment to take that in. Resentment seethed in his eyes and he said nothing. Beck reached for him and Bat flinched, but didn't move away. He grabbed the traitor's hair again and pulled backward, exposing his neck. "Answer."

"Sir," Bat hissed, "yes sir."

"Everything that was Maribel is gone or absorbed into another tribe," Varin shouted in Bat's face. "All the Maribel are now Embryon!" Bat was still furious, tense and wanting to attack, and violet lines crawled over his right arm. Varin drove further, backhanding him across the face.

"Change and I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" Bat lay on the ground, hissing as he breathed in and out, leaning on his forearms. He didn't try to get up, and Varin stood up, widened his stance. There was blood on his knuckles. It wasn't his own, and he ignored it.

"The color red does not signify any tribe," Varin said coldly. "Why do you wear it?"

Bat turned his face, breathing heavily from his nose as he looked up. The threat of his demon subsided and he licked his lips, swallowed.

"Sir," he said deliberately, "because I am not Embryon."

Varin nodded inwardly, moved not a muscle. "Get up."

Bat climbed to his feet, never moving his gaze from Varin's face.

"The color red belongs to no tribe," he said. "Therefore you belong to no tribe."

"Sir," Bat murmured, "yes sir."

Still bleeding. He wanted more. No. Fuck Ravana, he was a soldier. He knew control.

"You live on the Brutes' sufferance."

He didn't like that either. "Sir," each word was bitten off at the end. "Yes. Sir."

"You will continue to wear red," he pressed two fingers to the tattoo on Bat's face, scraping them across the traitor's skin. Bat's mouth twitched, although his lips never parted, and Varin knew he wanted to bite. "Because you are not one of us. Because you are a traitor to your Tribe, and everyone will remember it." He gripped Bat's jaw in that hand, hard enough to hurt him. He still smelled blood, always smelled it, and Ravana snarled.

"Sir, yes sir."

"You aren't one of us," Varin said and he could hear the growl in his own voice, "but you belong to us." A flinch. Varin didn't wait for an answer this time, the roaring in his mind had words and command and fuck the bastard in his head for wanting to claim- to mark and devour and if Varin wouldn't do that, he would at least do something. "You belong to me." Bat watched him lick the blood from his knuckles, breathed slowly as Varin released him.

"Kneel on the floor."

Bat said nothing as he complied, staring with a gaze that reminded Beck of the still-senseless AIs. Dead, but in a different way. Something in him denied the action- told him this was going too far. Varin knew this was war time and people couldn't afford morals. Beck wanted the fuck out of this hell. Ravana wanted blood and violence. None of them trusted the traitor and they would not. Bat had to fear them. He had to understand the consequences of disobedience and if he were going to rebel, he would do it now. Before Varin gave him a difficult task- gave him something that put his men at risk.

He stepped around Bat and stood behind him.

"All fours."

Bat complied again, no resistance in his body. Varin groped impersonally at the garishly colored codpiece and opened it, tossed it away before hooking fingers in the lower half of the bodysuit and pulling until it slipped the rest of the way, pooling on the ground at Bat's knees.

It meant nothing. Nothing as he pressed his finger into Bat's body, roughly stretching, and ignored the pained grunts of the traitor beneath him. Ravana howled its approval of the pliant warmth, flesh, and it was the demon's pleasure that made him hard, guided his free hand to open his pants and bare his erection. Ravana's instincts that drove his body into the traitor's, made his mouth water at the pain and smell of freshly spilt blood.

He felt his Atma burn- felt Ravana's greed and lust, the demon's need, and he moved faster, sneering as he thrust again and again.

He came with his teeth clenched and lines wrapping his arm round. His nostrils flared and he pulled out, stood and reassembled himself.

"Get dressed," he said.

Bat moved slowly, climbing to his feet and turning to face Varin before replacing his body suit. There was something in the traitor's eyes. Something calm, as if he'd gained some advantage or knowledge from what had just happened. He stared, face shining faintly with sweat, hair damp around the edges. He was hard, and Bat was staring at his face when Varin raised his eyes.

"Sir," Bat said.

It wasn't respect that caused the difference in his voice. Varin would have to watch him yet.

"Yes. Sir."

Comments

[daniela-lynx.livejournal.com]

Owowow. When Varin was telling Bat there was no Maribel... and then: "Sir," he said deliberately, "because I am not Embryon." *Flails! Squees!*

Good piece, and even more great as a follow-up of the prior one. The power-dynamics here and the dialogs are priceless indeed. *applauds*

[syvia.livejournal.com]

XD THANK YOU~!

I worked with that scary but horribly understandable idea of basic training- break down the n00b and then build them up again. The idea of Varin/Beck/whatev screaming at Bat was kind of freaky and yet I was filled with such glee as I wrote this. XD

^^ Believe it or not, I wrote this first- but the idea of Bat still retaining loyalty (of a sort) to the Maribel stuck with me, and helped as I wrote the other fic.

Thank you so much! :D

[qara-isuke.livejournal.com]

I totally second this. I loved that particular line and reasoning for his still wearing his old Color.

Also, seconding all other comments involved.

I came. Twice. DAMN YOU AND EM FOR MAKING ME EXPLODE WITH AWESOME.

[syvia.livejournal.com]

*GLOMP* YAYYYYYYYYYYY~ finally delivered after all these months. XD

But what a way to go!