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Fic: Erosian

Title: Erosion
Fandom : Battlestar Galactica
Rating : R
Characters/Pairings : Kara Thrace/ Leoben Conoy
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and its fraked-up characters belong to their creators, not me.
Summary : And so it goes. The mountain of her will pitted against his stupid fraking streams.
Warnings: Violence and murder, coercive sexual relations, dub/non-con, seriously unhealthy relationships

It’s not like she’s expecting when he takes her. He doesn’t rape her, doesn’t torture her, doesn’t hold her face down in a barrel of water. He just talks, not threats even. It’s all whispered endearments, psychobabble and crazy prophecy bullshit. Kara Thrace and her special destiny as his personal frak-toy.

She finds a way to kill him before the end of the week. It’ll probably come back to bite her in the ass, but she needs to show him that she won’t play his little mind games. A few days later he comes back, just as gentle and patient as before, and they start all over again.


He goes away sometimes. Not just when he’s dead, but like he has a job, something better to do than play this frakked-up game of house. There’s nothing to do while he’s gone, no books, no wireless, nothing. She does push-ups, runs up and down the stairs and imagines what she’d paint on the walls if she could. She talks to herself, pounds out angry tunes on an invisible piano and wonders if she’s going crazy.

The first time she finds herself relieved to see him she kills him messy. She spends the next day scrubbing his blood from the carpet just to have something to do.


She wakes in the night from a dream of them fraking, frantic, covered in paint, against a wall. It wasn’t making love, but it wasn’t quite hate-sex either and now she’s wet and gasping. Her hand is already down the front of her sweats, ready to scratch that itch, when she feels his weight on the bed beside her. He’s naked and hard, a little smile on his face like he’s sharing her dream and liking it a whole lot more. She straddles him, grinding a pillow into his face. She rides him as he bucks, his fingers frantically grasping for purchase on her face, in her hair. He comes all over her as he dies and she spends the rest of the night in the shower.


And so it goes. The mountain of her will pitted against the steady flow of his patient love, seeping into her, seeking out her cracks like one of his stupid fraking streams. It’s been months now but she’s holding out, she won’t give in. Where he is gentle, she is violent, stabbing him as he cuts her meat. They’ll keep playing this game until one of them finally breaks. Tonight his body is the one cooling on the floor, but she’s not really sure she’s winning.


( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 19th, 2013 02:09 am (UTC)
Powerful and frightening. Not a single wasted word. The last line is especially good.
Apr. 19th, 2013 01:20 pm (UTC)
Thank you for commenting. I'm used to writing what are effectively 100 word history essays for work, so I'm always glad to hear it works in my fiction too.
Apr. 19th, 2013 05:18 am (UTC)
You show Kara's quiet self-disgust and slow creeping terror in such vivid details. Beautiful.
Apr. 19th, 2013 01:20 pm (UTC)
Thank you. Glad you liked it.
Apr. 19th, 2013 06:25 pm (UTC)
Really lovely, so much tension and longing and pain.
Apr. 19th, 2013 07:35 pm (UTC)
Thanks for saying.
Apr. 20th, 2013 06:32 pm (UTC)
This is vibrant and dark and perfect.
Apr. 20th, 2013 11:22 pm (UTC)
( 8 comments — Leave a comment )


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