(AN:
Well.
I wrote this baby two and a half years ago, believe it or not. It was when I had started working on my MoBubs story, and this was a snippet of a possible sequel I envisioned to that story, that not only continued the MoBubs story, but also added in Mojo/Blossom (I can't ignore my OTP), Mojo/Buttercup, and Him/Mojo. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so I wrote this down, which got it out of my system (and apparently got the whole MoBubs thing out of my system, too, since that story's moved at a snail's pace if at all). I posted it to my LiveJournal, but not here because, since it took place after the story I was working on, I didn't want to show things out of order and spoil my current story.
But, re-reading this now, I came to three conclusions. One, if I ever figure out what to do with my still unfinished MoBubs story, it's probably going to go in a different direction rendering this fic incompatible with it; two, this fic actually stands fairly well on its own (considering the strangeness of it); and three, I just actually kind of like it. Considering I don't like a lot of what I currently write, it's kind of shocking to come across something I wrote two and a half years ago and actually be pleased with it.
So, after some deliberation, I finally decided: what the hell. I'll post it here. I think it's about time I posted some slash, anyway. ;)
I look forward to all your flames! :)
The Powerpuff Girls belong to Craig McCracken and Cartoon Network and they ain't mine and blah blah blah.)
…………
"She enjoyed it, didn't she?"
Mojo winced at the voice coming from his couch, at how coldly calculating it was. He wasn't bothering to hide his jealousy, even though this had been his idea in the first place.
"Yes, she did," sighed Mojo. He felt so helpless. He couldn't resist Him, he couldn't resist the Powerpuff Girls, he couldn't resist anything anymore. "And so did I," he added spitefully. "Buttercup is passionate in everything she does, and that includes sexual intercourse."
Him raised his head from the couch, where he had been lounging, and Mojo gulped at the burning in his eyes. "Where is she now?" he asked in a strangely calm voice.
"She's asleep." Mojo felt himself smiling, despite himself. "We were quite rough. Rough in a way that it knocked her into a state of unconsciousness. To think I spent all those years trying to defeat the Powerpuff Girls with gadgets and machines, and all I needed to knock out the toughest girl was my own sexual prowess. Bubbles and Blossom were equally wiped out. They are all powerless against me now due to their feelings."
"You're powerless against me," Him said, smoothly and enticingly, slowly standing up from the couch. Mojo's eyes grew wide in shock—he had been expecting for Him to lash out in jealousy, not to look at him like that, not to approach him in that way, not to—
Him's arms slid across Mojo's shoulders, and Mojo shuddered and flinched at the same time, in the same agony he had had when trailing Buttercup's body with kisses just minutes earlier, when he had whispered things he didn't mean but dearly wished he did mean into Blossom's ear just a few days ago, when Bubbles had let out a sigh that shook both their naked bodies so long ago and so recently that he could still feel her against him.
"Don't do this," he whimpered before he could stop himself. "Curse you, you know the mental state I am in right now."
"And you know why that is, kitten," said Him, his lips brushing against Mojo's cheek as he murmured the words. "You know why they torment you so. You can never have any of them. They are all moral and good. How it sickens me. But it will be their downfall. Soon in their jealousy they will destroy each other… and then I will have you all to myself." His lips stayed on Mojo's cheek for a little too long.
"You know nothing about love," said Mojo, his voice trembling as Him's lips moved up and down his face. "I realize perfectly well that I could never have any of the three Powerpuff Girls, but it is not that simple! Knowing this does not make my feelings for them vanish!"
"You're a mess." Him's claws slinked their way from Mojo's shoulders down to his waist. "Foolish little Bubbles taught you how to love. That's what got you into this silly predicament in the first place."
Bubbles had been the first, her sweet innocence pitying Mojo, and in the strangest of circumstances, the two had become confidants, confidants who grew to understand each other. Who knew when it had started? When she had been gone Mojo had grown mad with loneliness. Apparently, Bubbles had missed him too. In typical Bubbles naïveté, she began seeking him out, pronouncing her love for him, asking him to be her boyfriend, defending his actions before her sisters, bailing him out of jail, leaving home to live with him. "Because you're lonely," she had said, her arms around his waist just as Him's arms were now. "I love you, and I know you love me too." He broke down then and gave himself to her, although he knew what the consequences would be. They had made love, in the most gentle, glorious moment of Mojo's life, but then Bubbles changed, realizing that love wasn't perfect.
She left him. He wanted her out, not wanting to be reminded of how close he had been to happiness. The Powerpuff Girls were adults by then, going off to college, going their separate ways, but still their faces were always popping up on TV, in the newspaper, and while Mojo's true anger was at his failed attempt at a relationship with Bubbles, he lashed out at hatred the media images of Blossom and Buttercup.
Buttercup became a chef—a quite renowned one—and Mojo often threw darts at her picture. But most of his anger was focused at Blossom, who had a life he envied. She had gone on to get her Ph. D. in physics, and now was a leading researcher in quantum physics, string theory, and numerous other mysteries of life. She had intellect, she had beauty, and the whole world was at her fingertips, and Mojo envied her. Somehow that envy turned into love—spiteful, retributional love, but love all the same.
But it was love that was different from his love of gentle, compassionate Bubbles—who was simply a nurse at a retirement home—and thus Blossom did nothing to push Bubbles out of his mind. Driven mad by his feelings, he felt compelled to destroy them, once and for all, to rid him from temptation.
He had not intended on revealing his feelings for Blossom during the battle, but somehow they spilled out anyway, leaving Blossom in shock and Bubbles emotionally wounded even more. He could have killed them then, but Buttercup defeated him by breaking down herself, shrieking that everyone loved Blossom and Bubbles more than her, even Mojo; that she was only loved because she was a Powerpuff Girl; that only Mojo could love her despite being a Powerpuff Girl. Mojo could only stare at her, the one Powerpuff Girl who hadn't stirred his heart, realizing that she was a lost, lonely soul just like him.
Realizing what was happening to him, he ran. And ran. And ran.
And that had been when Him found him.
"You call it a silly predicament," sighed Mojo, moaning a bit as well as Him's claws and lips continued to caress him, "but it is all working out well for you, isn't it?"
"My passion for destroying the Powerpuff Girls has always been stronger than my passion for you," Him admitted, his claws tracing Mojo's beltline, "but when I found the two could go hand in hand, how could I not jump at the chance?"
"Don't you see," Him had said to a helpless Mojo, "that by turning them all against each other because of you, they would destroy themselves? Then the world could be ours… just the two of us…"
It must have been Mojo's weakened state of mind that made him fall for Him so quickly. His love for each Powerpuff Girl was different—he wanted Blossom around for the intellectual stimulation; Bubbles for the comfort; Buttercup for the wild passion—and Him was an outlet for Mojo to vent out his sexual frustration. He doubted that Him loved him—the emotion of love seemed to be a foreign one to him—but the master of darkness certainly was obsessed with Mojo, obsession beyond what any of the Powerpuff Girls could give. In his state of desperation, Mojo has been putty in his claws.
Love had once been a foreign concept to Mojo as well. But Him was right—damn Bubbles, damn her, it was her fault that he was screwing all three Powerpuff Girls, both out of love and out of hate, being manipulated by an effeminate devil who wished to destroy them. But this time, Him's hatred for the girls was fueled by jealousy as well, jealous of Mojo's complicated feelings for each one of them, different for each girl yet all equal in intensity.
"Even if this does not go the way you have planned, I have already lost," moaned Mojo.
"But you have me, darling… you have me."
Him's claws had inched their way to Mojo's belt buckle.
"No, don't, please," gasped Mojo. "I can't… I can't take this anymore…"
"It will make you feel better," Him purred into the corner of Mojo's mouth.
"No… it will only…"
But Mojo could resist no more.
And as Him slowly, sensually undid Mojo's buckle, he couldn't help but smile gleefully, hoping that that little bitch Buttercup would wake up and see who her lover-boy monkey pimp was with now.
