Thomas Arkwright / 'IV' (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
myselfwillbear) wrote2012-12-19 05:48 pm
myselfwillbear) wrote2012-12-19 05:48 pm
Entry tags:
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. ]
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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It sees V, too, out of the corner of its eye, sees him panting and shaking and squirming in his bonds, trying desperately to soothe his aching body, eyes still locked on his brother. And that pleases it too, certainly. But it's not enough. He has to give in, he has to break.
So, slowly, the crooning becomes quieter, quieter, and Black Mist slowly draws itself away. It has to build this up slowly, put on a wonderful puppet show for their guest.
As it moves away, V's bonds tighten, draw his limbs away from each other so he doesn't have a hope of touching himself, any part of himself.
It waits, watches, to see its beloved pet as he comes apart.]
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Before long, he's jerking in Black Mist's grip, skin slick with sweat and oil, every exhalation accompanied by a loud groan and each one only just barely muffled by the tendril in his mouth. It's not long after that, either, that he arches and lets the tendril slip free from his mouth entirely.
(he wants to drink, he wants everything it will give but)
(this isn't enough)
(he needs more and it's not being given to him and he knows, even in this state, that Black Mist won't give in and let him come until Chris has broken)
(so he throws his head back, bearing down on the tendrils that are fucking him, and calls out loud and needy) ]
Please, please, more. Ah, ah, I need more, please-- please I'll do anything I need it please, please!
[ His eyes snap open then, finding Chris and focusing on him. ]
V. Chris. A-ah, nii-san-- please. Please, nii-san...
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He was squirming before, trying to get some kind of stimulation, but now he hangs limp in his bonds and takes slow, shuddering breaths, trembling.
(his whole body is on fire, he's flushed everywhere and slick with oil and sweat, his hair hangs damp in his face)
(he can't give in)
(but)
(but Thomas is right there, and it's touching him and fucking him hard and it looks so)
(good)
(and)
IV...IV's asking for something, but he doesn't know what he's asking for, he hears the desperation in his voice but what can Chris do when he's bound here?
(he can't touch him, can't press his body against his or kiss him deep or ride his cock or)
He tries to clear the thoughts out of his mind but they keep coming back worse, better.]
I...IV, I...!
[He can't give in but he
he can't take this, he can't, his mind might be well-protected but his body
his body is going to come apart.]
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(he just needs a push)
(just one more little push and then)
It moves a closer again, strokes his face as the tendrils begin to move in him faster.]
What should he do, IV?
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(because it's too much, it's too much and not enough and he needs to come more than he needs to breathe right now, it's like he's burning and drowning all in the same motion, drowning in hot oil)
The noises start to get more coherent though, the longer Black Mist holds him and fucks him open at that speed. Words start to slip through the torrent of noise, please and nii-san and give in and more.
His eyes clamp shut and he arches up further with every thrust of Black Mist's tendrils, still begging on every breath.
(if Chris doesn't give in, he)
(he doesn't know what he'll do)
(he can't survive this kind of pleasure-pain-anticipation for much longer) ]
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He hears IV pleading, sees it fucking him hard and fast but he's still not coming and he understands.
He should have expected this to be a trap, really. Maybe he did understand.
(maybe he did understands and he just didn't care)
(he doesn't care right now, certainly)
(for this moment he doesn't care if it's a trap he doesn't care what he'll give up he doesn't care he)
(he needs it, he wants what IV's getting and more, he wants everything it can give him and he wants IV too and he won't be satisfied until he has it, has everything)
(at heart he is greedy, like most humans)
It's in that moment, that moment when the trap doesn't matter, that he opens his mouth and speaks.]
...p-please. Please.
[He barely even knows what he's asking for.]
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The crest on Chris' forehead lights, squirms and shifts, and
the numbing comes off.]
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(because he's not numb any more)
(because there's a moment of nothing and then, abruptly, everything)
He arches so far that it should hurt but there's no pain, there's barely even pleasure there's just an end, blinding dark and blinding light in his vision all at once and his ears ringing with his own hoarse scream and his pulse pounding in his ears like his heart is going to explode out of his chest. He's suspended in the moment for what feels like forever, locked into place by the force of his orgasm and the way his muscles tense up, noise wringing its way out of his throat.
It feels like forever and when it finally stops he slumps in Black Mist's grip, head lolling back like he can't hold himself up.
(his muscles ache and he feels sore and tender all over, every breath rasping in his throat like sandpaper but)
(the pain doesn't matter)
(nothing matters, not after so much pleasure and pain, when he's so exhausted and held up only by Black Mist's grip) ]
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You've done so ｗｅｌｌ, pet...you've made me so ｐｒｏｕｄ...
[Its touches are rhythmic, soothing, a simple pattern to bring him to rest.
(in the background, V squirms, moans as a tendril probes at his ass and another slips into his mouth, nearly sobs with relief)]
Would you like to sleep, pet?
I can make him ready.
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It's speaking to him like that, it's soothing him and IV is so tired, so desperate to sleep but-- but he can hear V, too. He wants to see. Wants to see it get V off, wants to-- no, though, not help out. Not now, not when he can barely even move and every part of him feels leaden with exhaustion. ]
I--
I want to...
[ He trails off, the see dying in his throat as his eyes flutter shut completely.
He wants to see, but when he can barely keep his eyes open and the only thing keeping him up at all is the tendrils holding him, he's not so sure that that's going to happen.
(maybe--)
(maybe if it held him up, so that he could sit back against it in the air)
(it could envelope him too, he thinks, moans weakly at the thought and squirms just a little) ]