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"Agglomeration"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Very
dark, Slavery, Bondage, Voyuerism, Graphic Violence, Non-Graphic Noncon,
Angst, Drama,
Yaoi, Death Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 13x6, 6x5, 13x1x2x3x4x5 Summary:
Alternate Universe. The colonies lost the war and Treize's faction
reigns supreme. He takes the Gundam pilots for his own personal collection. "Agglomeration " ag·glom·er·a·tion a,gläma'raSH(a)n/ noun 1) a mass, or a collection of things, an assemblage His most resplendent collection by far. He'd always been quite the connoisseur for rare and beautiful things, but the idea to collect people was his newest stroke of genius. When the Gundam pilots, such extraordinary and breathtaking specimens, works of art they were, were initially going to be executed for war crimes when the colonies lost the final battle, Treize immediately placed a stay and put in a public bid for ownership of the prisoners of war. The only thing more beautiful than the Gundam pilots, was the Gundam pilots in chains. And they were all his. Such unique and exquisite creatures, anomalies of the human race in strength, agility, endurance, intelligence, and loveliness. Each held their own exclusive allure. An allure that stoked the fires deep within Treize's core. Oh, but they fought him. They fought him tooth and nail and he reveled in the struggle. They kicked and punched, clawed and bit, and he'd walked away numerous times covered in bruises, scratches, and teeth marks. After all, it wasn't easy to tame that which was wild. Teaching creatures that had once been free and so delightfully savage to submit was not an easy task. But, that was just part of the fun in Treize's opinion. Zechs was furious. Of course he was. The man had a conscience, something Treize never had much use for. But he was too beautiful to let go and he was obedient, despite instigating dozens of arguments about the atrocity of owning human beings. That Treize should just execute them, that they would prefer that over slavery was just bewildering to him. To end the lives of such exquisite creatures, a crime in itself. They all had their own individual features and temperaments that Treize found fascinating and loved to explore them, pushing his pets to their limits. They had their own names, designated by him and he thought them quite fitting. Pilot 01 he loved to call his Perfect Soldier. For that was what he'd been and though he was wild, almost feral in the beginning, his long-standing years of training eventually kicked in. Finely tuned soldier instincts taking over for the sake of self-preservation. To live to fight another day. He followed Treize's orders like a good little sycophant, whether it was to kneel at Treize's feet, or spread his legs. It didn't take as long as he'd anticipated, but the breaking of him was a sight to behold. The strong, wiry body that could bend steel, going lax with submission beneath his own was like being one with the Divine. Pilot 02 was a feisty little devil, even more feral than Treize's Perfect Soldier. He'd already had his own alter ego when Treize gained possession of him and Treize let him keep it. It was the least he could do. So the boy thought he was the God of Death, so he became Treize's God of Death. It hadn't been easy to overpower him and it had taken hours upon hours of training to break him of his nasty biting habit, but by the stars, did he look beautiful laid out on Treize's auberjean silk sheets, hair spread out beneath him like a cascading waterfall of chestnuts. Pilot 03 nearly broke his neck a few times. He never said a word, and he could hide like a ninja, taking Treize by surprise by silently leaping out from the dark shadows of his chambers and jumping on his back, deft hands twisting his head almost clean off. His Silencer was magnificent in every way. His physique was celestial and the beauty of those green eyes as Treize watched him break was almost regretful. Almost. Pilot 04 took him by surprise. Not only because he was the only son of the prominent Winner family, but also because he didn't look capable of throwing a punch, let alone piloting a Gundam. He was proven delightfully wrong when he'd pinned the lovely boy down, only to have a few of his teeth knocked loose by a headbutt that made his head spin for hours afterwords. He spat out the blood that collected in his mouth and devoured the struggling blond beneath him. His Desert Rose was breathtaking and barbed with thorns that could pierce a man's heart. Pilot 05 was his most fiery treasure of all. Like a powerful Dragon, spitting rage and fire and brimstone, cursing him to every level of Hell and back. His golden skin was bewitching when his muscles flexed beneath it as he squirmed and hissed, raking jagged nails down Treize's chest. The black silk curtain of his hair spilled about his shoulders like a demonic halo and his black eyes gleamed with the promise of endless painful deaths. When his burning spirit broke, dying down to mere embers, it was a tragedy that Treize savored. He not only made love to them, but he enjoyed watching them make love to each other. Watching them weep as they were forced into acts they didn't wish to do made his black heart sing with bliss. He watched them come together in comfort, an unbreakable unit of love. To see his Perfect Solder's head bob in his God of Death's lap, or to see his Silencer's hips thrust between the thighs of his Desert Rose, his Lightening Count press into his Dragon from behind, made him feel Godly, coming home to his Kingdom of Glory. They'd been thoroughly broken. They were his perfect, obedient little toys as they lounged at his feet, their skin shimmering in the candlelight beneath the gleam of their jeweled collars. They no longer needed chains as his pets learned their places, sitting demurely on their silken cushions with their legs curled beneath them as he fed them scraps from the dinner table with his fingers. They no longer needed guidance as they learned what to do and how to do it. It left Treize feeling melancholic, empty. The fight in their eyes, in their bodies, faded as they took him inside them with fluttering eyelids and sighs of pleasure. He hated to admit it, but he missed the battles. The struggle. He'd taken monsters and turned them into obedient dogs and God help him, he longed for those monsters. He'd done what he'd set out to do and was consumed by regret. It wasn't until several months later when he'd walked into his chambers after a long day, looking forward to some much-needed downtime with his pets and discovered Zechs lying on the floor, a pool of blood beneath his head, that he realized he'd been played for a fool. A moment later, a strike to the head brought him to his knees, then another dropped him to the floor, his jaw striking the cold marble and snapping instantly. He dizzily rolled to his side and gazed up at his boys, his harem, as they stood over him, and he saw the fire. The fire in their eyes that he thought he'd doused, burning hotter than ever, and ready for his blood. As he watched his Perfect Soldier raise the marble bust of his own likeness, he couldn't help the small curl of his lips as he tried to smile around his broken jaw. He gurgled a laugh through the blood in his throat, coughed, and rasped, "There you are. I was afraid I'd broken you." His Desert Rose leaned forward, his eyes like a tropical ocean on a hot summer day, gleamed with the light and the fight he'd never actually lost. "No one can break us. Not even you." He smiled around his bloody teeth and the last thing he saw as his Perfect Soldier brought the statue down on his head were his beautiful, ferocious pets looking down at him as he thought, No, they aren't more beautiful in chains. Their beauty comes from being wild and free. The bust collided with his face, breaking delicate bones on impact and ending the thoughts of the mind contained within, only a final fleeting notion lingered before it disappeared forever. Justice has been served.
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