Title: Toybox

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: I'm sorry I'm weird, but I am. Reading it over, it sometimes feels like I'm making light of rape and violence—I definitely do not consider such actions light at all. But this from Yazoo and the brother's perspective and they are very warped. Reviews are welcome, as always.

Warnings: Dark. Not strictly yaoi or het. Adult language, violence, rape, murder, and just general nastiness. Nothing is extremely graphic—the story is more reflective and the rape/violence/etc doesn't happen "during" the story, but it does mention it quite a bit and in some detail. You've been warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7 or its characters. I don't claim to own them.

Yazoo didn't like to break his toys - he just wanted to play with them.

Fuck them, of course - they all did. But he didn't get off on their screams or the trickle of blood that inevitably came from between their legs. (Although he would admit when that blood was because he was their first and not just because it was rape, he allowed himself to enjoy the sight.)

He got off on brushing away their tears and whispering sweet-nothings against their skin as he trailed soft kisses along their neck. He could practically taste the confusion in their sweat, and he found it just wonderful.

He was well practiced by now, and he could usually get them to relax against him and sometimes even orgasm - which seemed to be easier with the men than the women, although he'd heard that women were hard to please even without the fear of a demon-eyed stranger over them. Even if said stranger tried to be nice about the whole ordeal and never hurt them too much.

He would rather keep them in good shape and return them - how did that pawn shop refer to their used toys? - ah, well loved. He would return them well loved, with clean skin and shampooed hair, a full meal in their stomachs, and a shiny trinket to remember him by.

His brothers were a different story all together.

Loz broke his toys, but only accidentally. He's just too big and rough and unable to realize his horrible strength until the body under him oozed crimson or emitted a bone-crunching crack, treating everyone to the poor thing's screams. Of course, Loz was always apologetic and did his best to avoid smashing a toy completely to pieces, even if he'd already broken an arm or snapped a leg in a way it should never bend. If they were in too much pain, or would most likely die from their injuries anyway, he would snap their neck before continuing -- he was kind and merciful in that respect.

But Kadaj...

Kadaj wanted to break his toys. All of them. He gave no exceptions for the women or almost-adults or the man pleading about his wife and two kids and childhood dog to take care of at home.

Yazoo gave no exceptions either, but then again, he let them live. It was more fun that way. Something about seeing a girl he broke two weeks ago still afraid to even hug her boyfriend pleased him very, very much. And seeing her still wearing the bracelet he clasped on her wrist that night almost forced him over the edge.

Kadaj also liked to smash them into pieces and then cut up the remains. Or cut them into pieces and then smash the remains. It was all the same to him, really.

In fact, Yazoo couldn't recall a single toy of Kadaj's that had survived. If they managed to make it past the first round of fucking, cutting, kicking and bruising, then Kadaj would simply resort to more extreme measures to break them. Like using the power tools Loz left out after working on their bikes. Now that always got them screaming.

It didn't really bother Yazoo - what was one more dead human? And they were Kadaj's toys and not his, after all - but the mess it left afterwards was always a bitch to clean up. Although he supposed it didn't cross Kadaj's mind, because he was their little princeling and was exempt from household chores. But having to fish out a festering eyeball from the heater vent and get that rotting smell from the carpet was never an enjoyable experience for the longhaired Remnant.

Not that Yazoo was complaining, of course. He just didn't understand his brother's reasoning. And Kadaj teasingly comparing him to Cinderella whenever he had to sweep up the human-ashes from the fireplace was none too amusing.

He asked Kadaj why, once. Why did he have to ruin every toy he got his greasy child-fingers on? (He didn't voice the last part, of course, but Kadaj knew him so well he probably heard it anyway.)

Kadaj had answered in a tone that was matter-of-fact.

"Because it is Mother's will."

Yazoo hadn't understood, and mentally added it to the ever-growing list of things that Kadaj told them were "Mother's will." He was the only one of the three that could hear Her, so who was Yazoo to argue?

But he couldn't help but wonder (although he knew he shouldn't, as Kadaj had never lied about Mother) if She would really want Her children to commit such horrible acts. He knew that what he did was bad, too - but wasn't it better to treat them like precious porcelain dolls than to drill a hole through their cheek or stomp their skulls in?

He consulted Loz, who had only told Kadaj and earned Yazoo a dizzying punch to the jaw. No answers, there, aside from "keep your questions to yourself from now on."

He consulted his newest toy, who had only gone still at the mention of violence and muttered that he didn't know and please please don't hurt him.

He even consulted the uncooperative Shinra president, who gave him an answer in a voice that was aggravatingly calm for someone with the flare of Geostigma and a threat of teeth-shattering pain hovering over him.

"Jenova does not care for you, Loz, or even Kadaj. It only seeks to bring back Sephiroth, nothing more. What you do with your so-called toys does not even register on it's mind, Remnant."

Yazoo had bristled at the word Jenova and every it that tumbled from the president's mouth only served to make him angrier.

It's She, he hissed, and he slapped the tight smile from the president's face before leaving Loz to watch their captive. He rode into the town and began to window shop in the fading light.

She cared about what they did. She had to. And when they were finally with Her, She would pat his head with affection and tell him that he was the good son, and that Kadaj was going to be put in time out until he thought about what he had done.