Larathia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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femslashficlets2015-08-14 10:14 pm
larathia) wrote in femslashficlets2015-08-14 10:14 pm
Entry tags:
#020 (#012: The Five Senses) The Limits of Exploration
Title: The Limits of Exploration
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Pairing: Celes/Terra
Rating: PG
Prompt: #012 - The Five Senses (during remainder week)
Word Count: 200
Summary: Limits in play
It was something of a peculiar blessing, Celes sometimes reflected, that their past time together in the Empire's service was the key to their current compatibility.
What minefields we would be to others, Celes thought.
Terra enjoyed sense play, for example. Delicate stems of melting ice traced gently across her limbs. Heated silks. Gently blown exhalations, the vibration of humming with lips against flesh.
But never, ever, to be bound or held down. Not in play, not in any other way. She wouldn't react well to so much as fingertips brushing her wrists. She would grip leather straps or a bedpost or whatever might help - like Celes, her innate powers made actual attempts to grip another person perilous - but never, ever, could she be restrained by another. Never gagged, either - never silenced.
And that was Kefka's legacy.
Celes could not submit. She had to be the actor, not the acted-upon. To bow, to retreat, to let another take charge, had become an abhorrent abdication of responsibility. There was no protection, no safety in following orders, no joy. To obey, to submit, was to allow another Maranda. Not even in the bedroom, now.
And that was Gestahl's legacy.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Pairing: Celes/Terra
Rating: PG
Prompt: #012 - The Five Senses (during remainder week)
Word Count: 200
Summary: Limits in play
It was something of a peculiar blessing, Celes sometimes reflected, that their past time together in the Empire's service was the key to their current compatibility.
What minefields we would be to others, Celes thought.
Terra enjoyed sense play, for example. Delicate stems of melting ice traced gently across her limbs. Heated silks. Gently blown exhalations, the vibration of humming with lips against flesh.
But never, ever, to be bound or held down. Not in play, not in any other way. She wouldn't react well to so much as fingertips brushing her wrists. She would grip leather straps or a bedpost or whatever might help - like Celes, her innate powers made actual attempts to grip another person perilous - but never, ever, could she be restrained by another. Never gagged, either - never silenced.
And that was Kefka's legacy.
Celes could not submit. She had to be the actor, not the acted-upon. To bow, to retreat, to let another take charge, had become an abhorrent abdication of responsibility. There was no protection, no safety in following orders, no joy. To obey, to submit, was to allow another Maranda. Not even in the bedroom, now.
And that was Gestahl's legacy.