myselfwillbear | bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

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bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

[ IV doesn't know a huge amount about what his crest can do. It's not as though Tron has really told him much - he knows it stops the Numbers controlling his mind, but beyond that? He wasn't told anything.

He's worked out though, on his own, that he can manifest the Numbers outside of the AR, using the crest. It's not perfect, true - Giant Killer is as small as one of his dolls, Heaven's Strings won't leave its sealed form - but they'll appear nonetheless. He's never gotten to experiment with Machu Mach or Dyson Sphere, though, much as he'd wanted to, and none of the other Numbers he's collected have ever been that interesting.

So, truth be told, he doesn't exactly have high hopes for this latest card, 96.

But he'll manifest it anyway, if only the one time, to see.

Which is why he's currently stood over Black Mist's card, crest blazing on his hand as he works on drawing it out into reality. ]

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[As soon as the connection ends, it croons to IV again, touches his face and squirms around him.]

Be ready for him, pet.

[ 'Don't move'.

IV snorts again, leaning into the touch on his face and rocking his hips a little the best that he can. ]

I'm ready. I'm ready.

Do I need to do anything more?

[ He doesn't want to move at all - even if it were to let him up, right now, unless he were ordered to move he thinks he would just stay here, like this. ]

[It smiles, croons again, and it's about to speak and say no--

But then its ears prick, and all at once it dissolves back into the pool, to wait.]

[The door opens and V stares. He doesn't know what he's expecting, but it definitely wasn't this.

"This" being black slime pooling all over the room, oil staining his shoes as it flows out from behind the door, and

(and IV on the ground coated in the stuff, looking)

(definitely not sick)

(definitely not hurt)

(shirtless and flushed and--)

He swallows.]

What. What happened here?

[ IV stares up at V, squirms about and moans low in his throat. ]

Ah, like I said... the newest Numbers that I acquired...

[ Lifting a hand, he beckons V closer. ]

It's good, V, it's good...

Come here. It-- it'll make you feel good, too.

[V doesn't come closer.

(what is it doing to him? what's it doing to IV?)

He stumbles back, away from the slime, and the crest on his forehead lights.

(he searches the room for the source of the stuff but it all floods in at once, it's everywhere, its mind comes from everywhere)

(but maybe he's just...just distracted, by)

(by the way IV sounds, by that moan, by...)]

IV. Where is it?

[His voice is tight in his throat.

(ｄｏｎ’ｔ　ｔｅｌｌ　ｈｉｍ, says the voice in IV's mind, ｂｒｉｎｇ　ｈｉｍ　ｉｎ)]

[ IV moans, again, squirms and rocks his hips up when he hears the voice in his mind.

(beckons V again, and this time the crest flares up on his hand)

(not his crest, though)

(Black Mist's crest, 96's mark on him) ]

Please, V. Just... trust me. Please.

Chris...

[On the one hand, he knows he shouldn't. Knows that any Numbers powerful enough to manifest this strongly, powerful enough to change IV's crest should not be trifled with.

(but he has to save IV)

(and)

~~(and IV's rocking his hips up and groaning and he)~~

~~(he wants to see more, even if he won't admit it to himself)~~

~~(and he...he called him Chris)~~

He steps forward, into the room, grimaces as his boots stick in the slime as he walks towards IV.

(behind him, a tendril pushes the door shut, silently)

He reaches his hand down to IV, expecting him to take it, so Chris can pull him up.]

[ V - no, Chris? - offers his hand out, and IV grabs it.

(his grip is strong, even as he stays exhausted and limp against the slime clinging onto him, squirms about heavy with oil and bites back another moan)

Pulls him in, and before he's had a chance to react IV is pulling him into a kiss, grappling with his clothes.

(preparing him, for Black Mist)

(he'll be a perfect pet for it, just like IV already is)

(they'll be

together

in that)

(and they won't have to worry)

Between sharp kisses, gripping at Chris's clothes, IV murmurs lowly. ]

Chris. Nii-san. I want you. It's okay. You can-- you can want anything, if it approves.

Just. Give into it, Chris. Give in, it's so good and I want... I want you to feel this, too.

Give in, nii-san...

[He thinks that he is probably dreaming.

That's the most logical explanation, isn't it? For something so surreal and nightmarish and strange, that pool of blackness that had caught IV, to become...to become this. IV, kissing him, pulling at his clothes, clothes that seem to be melting away.

(because of the oil on IV's body, the oil that rises and glimmers at the top of the pool)

And because this is probably a dream, for a moment, he kisses back.

It's only when IV speaks that he begins to remember himself, that he pulls away (flushed and gasping more than he should be from a kiss like that).]

IV, we need to. We need to leave.

[His voice is a little strangled. Not just from fear, though.]

[ IV groans into it when Chris speaks, wrapping his arms around Chris's neck and trying to pull him in deeper.

(and then he's pulling away)

(not giving in, like IV said)

He makes a quiet, distressed noise, squirming about a little and glancing down at the pool that holds him. ]

Ah, will you...?

[ Will you show Chris what he's missing, Black Mist?

(he just wants

them both

together in this) ]

[He wonders what IV is talking to.

Then he realizes, and he only has time to open his mouth to speak before tendrils lash around his arms and legs and he's pulled into the air in front of IV, choking on whatever words he planned to say.]

[It pulls itself from the slime behind IV, rests its hands on his shoulders, cheek close to his.]

Ah, Christopher Arkwright, you should ｌｉｓｔｅｎ to him. It's such a long time since you've been happy, isn't it?

Such a long time since you felt ｇｏｏｄ?

[More tendrils rise from the pool below him, to writhe over his skin, strip away what little of his clothing is left and leave him gasping.

It croons into IV's ear, pleased, fawning, strokes his other cheek with one hand.

(and when he pleases Black Mist it will be so kind to him, it will give him such beautiful things)]

What should he have first, pet? What will we give him?

[ He watches Chris intently, watches the way he's gasping.

(that's good, it's good, he should enjoy this as much as IV does)

Leans into Black Mist, and if he weren't so focused on watching Chris then his eyes would shut, blissful. As is, he only makes a low noise of content, of pleasure, gaze trailing up and down Chris's body and the expanse of pale skin that's been exposed now. ]

Ah... ah, make him drink but nothing else.

[ He wants to see Chris desperate, wants to see him wanting more but not getting it until he's pleased Black Mist enough for it to give in.

He tilts his head a little, so as to better see its face.

(was that a good enough suggestion? he wants it to be pleased with him) ]

[He's thankful, so thankful for the crest, because he can feel the way those words buzz at the edge of his mind, the way the harmonies try to break through him,

ｌｉｓｔｅｎ

ｇｏｏｄ

He manages to push them out but then he's too distracted to attack, because it's touching IV that way (like an animal, like a doll) and calling him its pet and asking him what to give V.

(what does that mean)

(he knows what it means)

But he can't imagine IV will actually give it an answer until it actually comes out, and for a second his eyes go wide.

(why is he cooperating with it? he)

(this isn't right and)]

IV--

[The tendril slides into Chris' mouth and cuts off his speech, leaves a moment for a panicked noise before it starts to drip.

It can feel it, that V is afraid. It can feel that he is afraid but it can also feel that he is hungry, that he needs, it's written in the heat of his skin and the quickening of his pulse beneath the surface.

Yes, it is very pleased with IV. It is pleased with its new pet, with the fear, with the way he struggles in its grip (but deep down doesn't mean it). It squirms a little around IV's body in excitement, keeps on stroking his face and crooning.]

Hush, Christopher Arkwright. Your brother only wants the best for you.

Isn't it so, pet?

[ The squirming makes IV shudder in its grip, makes him rock his hips up and lean into the stroking.

(it's pleased with him, with what he's brought to it, and right now? right now, in its grip, that's all that matters)

(Black Mist being pleased with him, and... Chris's enjoyment of this, Chris understanding so that it can have another pet and IV can share this feeling) ]

Yes, yes... give in, Chris, just give in. It's good.

[ He turns his gaze back to Black Mist, squirming against it. ]

Will you lift me up? I want him to see. So he'll understand.

[ See Thomas swollen with oil and wanting it so clearly, see how much Thomas enjoys it so that he can understand how much he'll enjoy it if he just gives in. ]

[IV being so eager to please, to help V understand, that's good. IV wanting to share, that's better. It has never had a pet quite like this.

(he thinks so simply in his core, too, he's so easy to take from, it's like taking a scalpel to his heart)

When IV asks, the pool rises beneath him, pushes him into the air and waits as tendrils loop under his arms and around his body, to cradle him.

The slime melts back into the pool, but it leaves tendrils behind -- two wrapping around IV's legs, supporting him, spreading them open, one curling around his cock, one still pumping slowly, slowly into his ass.]

Perhaps we'll make a wager, Christopher Arkwright. If you are so eager to leave.

[It pulls the tendril from his mouth, for now, so he can speak, looping it lazily around his neck.]

[He sees IV, hanging there, swollen up in a way that can't be natural, can't be right, with...with that thing writhing around his cock, and...

(his whole body burns, it's sore and tender and it aches for touch, for)

~~(for thomas' hands, for his mouth)~~

Deep breaths, in through the nose, don't swallow the stuff in your mouth (except the tendril has fattened between his lips so nothing can get out and so he has to swallow, swallow down this sick oily thing that's already softening his mind with arousal).

When it pulls the tendril out of his mouth, it's clear he's struggling to keep some kind of composure.]

N...nnh. Name your terms.

[He's flushed, though, sweating a little already.]

[ IV is entirely without composure, from the moment he's put on show. Head lolling back, groaning low in his throat while his hips move lazily into the touch of the tendril around his cock; slow, steady thrusting into the warm embrace of that tendril.

He wants his mouth unoccupied, wants to be able to keep talking, but-- but at the same time, he's watched Chris drink in the oil (reluctantly, maybe, but hadn't IV been reluctant too before he realised how wonderful Black Mist is, how much it can offer?) and he wants it. So he twists his head about, looking to see if there are any tendrils close enough for him to suck at them but pull back if he needs to talk again, and when he finds one he shifts to wrap his lips around the tip, groaning again.

(quieter, though)

(he wants to keep up the constant reminder to Chris of how good this is, and besides that he doesn't think he could hold back the noise at all at this point, but Black Mist is trying to speak and IV won't interrupt it)

From there, IV just shifts his eyes to watch Chris, to take in the way he's flushed and sweating and struggling already.

(it's good, that he's starting to give in even if it's only physically)

(and it makes him look so wonderful) ]

[It likes it very much, when IV turns his head to take one of the tendrils around him (one of many, now) into his mouth. As soon as his lips fasten around it, the oil drips more quickly from the surface.

(he has already drunk today and yet he is so greedy, so hungry for it)

(it has never had a pet break to it this quickly)

(it's beginning to drip again already)

Some of the tendrils around IV descend to curl over him, slide over his bare skin, and occasionally there's some suction that leaves little red marks on his body.

It takes a moment, before it speaks again, reclining in the air beside them, surveying its prizes, licking its lips with its pale blue tongue.]

If you are still unsure by the time my pet comes, you are free to go.

But you must watch him until then.

And if you ask something of me even once, Christopher Arkwright, you are ｍｉｎｅ.

[It wouldn't be hard for him to keep watching IV, at least. His eyes are fixed on him completely: they don't even turn away to Black Mist once.

(he wants to think it's from horror, but even he can't convince himself of that)

(he's watching because it's IV, because it's Thomas and he's naked and oiled and moaning out the pleasure he's getting from this thing)

(because he wants--)

This should be simple, shouldn't it? It should be fine. He doesn't need to do anything, doesn't even need to resist it, and once IV comes he can go free.

(never mind that he can barely even take thinking about it, what it's going to look like when IV comes)

He just needs to not ask for anything. He just needs not to beg. And he wouldn't beg to anyone, most especially this thing, because that's something that Christopher Arkwright doesn't do, that V would never do. He has that dignity, even when he's like this.

(even when his skin aches like this, even when he's so hard in front of 96, in front of his brother)

So he takes a shaky breath and says, quietly,]

Agreed.

[His crest appears, but does not light. It's too early for that.]

[ Even IV, as close to mindless as the oil makes him, knows the meaning of Black Mist's words. Even he can see the truth behind those terms.

(but... he can wait, can't he?)

(he can wait as long as it takes to come, no matter how much he needs it, because the end result of waiting until Chris gives in...)

He twists in its grip now, and once the both of them have stopped talking he gives in totally, stops holding back his noises at all. Jerks his hips and gasps and moans around the tendril in his mouth, sucks greedily at everything it's giving him.

For all that he can wait, he doesn't want to, he's hard enough to hurt and heavy with oil and he needs to hit that precipice.

So he shifts, stretches himself out like every part of him is yearning for Chris's touch (it is, it is) and hopes, hopes with every desperate noise that Chris will lose himself, will ask for something even so simple as to be moved close enough to touch IV like IV so clearly wants (needs). ]

[It knows that Chris will give in, eventually. It knows that the oil and the time and the sight of its pet will do that to him.

But it doesn't just want him to break, it wants the break to be beautiful. It wants him to lose himself before it's even touching him.

(it doesn't just want him to ask

it wants him to beg)

So it drifts up close to Thomas again, but lower this time, holds his hips still and lays its head on his swollen stomach and watches his face.

(and it traces one finger around the tendril inside him)

(it hasn't swollen up yet and Black Mist is intrigued, it has an image it wants to explore, wants to see laid out for it)]

I wonder, pet...

Could you take another?

[ He squirms when it keeps his hips still, but then Black Mist is resting its head on his stomach and he just groans around the tendril in his mouth, sucking at it even more desperately.

(he wants more, wants everything it can give and)

(it's offering more)

(offering to give him another, and IV groans again just imagining it, imagining it stretching him open with two tendrils at once)

It takes a few long moments before he's willing to let go of the tendril in his mouth, still sucking at it, and even when he pulls his head back to speak he's still kissing at it, licking at the oil leaking from it between words. ]

Please. Aah, ah, I can. I-- I want another. Please, now, ah...

bad decisions, iv edition // for numbers96

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