Hey there, it's Aily. First work in this little fandom for me, so I won't and don't pretend to know everything forever about all y'all secret rules.
Flames with be given to my goldfish Zeta and Alpha. (TFM, I know, naming fish greek letters.) They will extinguish them. Because they live in a tank of water. You know?
*crickets*
Tough crowd.
RATED : M for not really super graphic but ri'dick'ulous amounts of suggestion. Geddit? Oh, I slay me.
(R+L+D)
Trash to Treasure
(R+L+D)
He'd hold her close, at first, whisper promises of power and promotion and acceptance, things she'd always wanted but never gained, because who'd guess a chick with pink hair just wanted to be accepted?
As she'd take off her clothes, as she'd let him touch her bare, pale skin, he'd murmur approval into her spine as she knelt on the bed and stripped him with due course, because that was what he wanted of her.
Next she'd lower her mouth, and swallow her pride as she took his dick in between her coral purple lips, he hiss and pant and clutch her shoulders with his tanned and tattooed hand, and she'd work a sweat out onto his not so long dead flesh, because that was what he needed.
Then he'd push her, bend her over onto her hands and knees and slide into her from behind like the lion that was his Noise form, and as he'd piston into her and her body trembled and gushed with lust, she'd moan and beg because that was what he loved to hear.
And as they finished, always he before she, they'd spend a few precious minutes wrapped around each other in the afterglow, and he'd place gentle kissed on the bite marks he'd left on her back and shoulders, because who could have guessed he'd find out she loved him?
(R+L+D)
"You're late," Kariya comments, idly, like it's just the weather he's talking about and not me. I take the time to examine my gun again, purse my lips and feel sexy, not fucked out the ass again.
"Couldn't sleep," I quip, forgetting that we don't need to and hoping that he doesn't care.
A ponderous tongue sneaks out of his mouth, sampling the azuki he always keeps around on a stick. "Really."
"Not a wink."
"Uh huh." Kariya smiled, almost sadly, and I know I'm screwed.
Well, I was last night, but this time I mean metaphorically.
"So, getting ahead by getting it in the behind are you?"
I'm not expecting him to be so blunt, and I almost misfire in my shock. "What?"
My partner - in erasure only - rolls brown eyes. "You've been rubbing the small of your back when you think I'm not looking, your walk is somewhat stiff and uncomfortable, and..." he flips a Player Pin in the air. "Every other thought in your head is 'I did it doggy style with Minamimoto'."
I'm stunned beyond words for a moment, and my first instinct is to shoot him in the head, or at least the nuts. My second instinct is to crush that stupid pin.
My third instinct is to run back to Sho and ask to do it missionary this time, or at least cowgirl. I decide, though, to go with the fourth option.
"Fucking hell, Koki? Where'd you even get that pin?"
"The little blonde sister we zapped last game. She wasn't needing it anymore, and I was bored." He raises an eyebrow at me. "Afraid I'll judge?"
Worst thing is, he's right. I'm not exactly Flavor Of The Month with anybody right now - not that anyone seems cheerful enough to have just been eating ice cream - and I'd hate to lose my only friend over something as trivial as having hot sex with the Game Master.
"Don't worry," Kariya smiles. "I did the same thing when I was your age."
His grin soothes me.
Wait, what?
"So did you-"
"You know, back before I realized that ambition," he yawns, avoiding eye contact as though he thinks I won't notice, "was nothing more than a pain in the ass."
"I love him."
The words come out suddenly, like verbal diarrhea. I wince and bite my lip as he freezes, then turns around to gape at me.
"Well," he replies at last, like he's just been told he'd going to die - or perhaps, more fitting with his lifestyle, get promoted. "It's nice to know I wasn't the only one."
Now I'm really curious. Also, I'm fantasying about Minimimoto and Kariya getting in on in the same sleazy hotel room, and the thought makes my mouth water. Just a little, though.
"But, Uzuki, in case you didn't notice," and he lowers his sunglasses, like the cop in some sunny American crime show, "I didn't get a happy ending."
(R+L+D)
There's always a few precious moments, between peeling off his clothes, folding them and setting them aside, and between him sliding off her dress and the pins out of her hair, that she knows they're already doomed; but then he slides his finger under her skin, and she can't bring herself to give a damn.
There's that emotional rift between them, like alley cats who mate just to survive, and they know that they just don't really care anymore as she falls back onto the bar counter and digs her heels into his perfect, bare ass; but then he closes the distance between them and she can't do anything but give in.
There's the silence afterward, as she ignores the bruises on her rear and the hickeys on her breasts and concentrates on wiping the counter because he promised he'd fix her a drink if she she did, when she knows he's going to walk out that door again and spend the whole day chasing down teens and building rubble piles; but then he plants a kiss on her hand and she can't, she just can't give up.
There's that lie she keeps telling herself that she knows is the truth, that he doesn't care about her; but then she sees that he's left his sweaty bandanna on the counter and she'd can't help but pick it up and give it back to him next time.
(R+L+D)
"Still worried about the Game, Mr. Kitaniji?" I ask him calmly, cooly, like he expects me to ask him, as he plays with the bright red headphones around his neck that have long since fallen silent. The olive sits and rots in his martini glass.
Secretly, I'm wishing he'll drink, forget the olive, choke and allow me his job. Or, better yet, let me claw out the eyes I can only assume lie behind his sunglasses and let them burn in cheap foreign vodka.
Typical Minimimoto didn't finish what he started, and Kariya was cruising around looking fine and for favors, so I'm pissed at the whole accursed gender and remembering that my boss and his boss and the Game Master and the newest Reaper are all men.
Eventually, I'm going to have to listen to the orange haired Harrier and promote the stupid, rose haired trigger happy-
"Not at all," Megumi smoothly tries to soothe me, and I try not to look like I was just envisioning a castration rampage. Then again, he might think I'm smiling with relief, so I let my lips curl just a smidge.
"You trust Minimimoto?"
"No."
He takes a sip, now, but unfortunately notices the olive and keeps his lips closed enough to prevent swallowing it.
"I trust myself. While not everything is going as I - we planned," he corrects himself, and I sorely wish the Composer had witnessed Megumi acting like he was greater than He, "the Composer believes I can handle everything. As do I."
"Very well, sir." I dip my head and excuse myself, still feeling hot and bothered under my long, black socks. And something tells me Minamimoto won't be back for a while, so I slither my way down the sewer.
Ah, there's Kariya, talking with Uzuki again and looking rather concerned. This should make it easier to persuade him - I wasn't entirely planning on threatening erasure just to get a little titillation, but if that's how things are going to be...
"Yo, Lollipop! Pinky!"
Our latest Reaper - the cream of the crop of his generation - glides in, that stupid creamsicle rat chitterling on his shoulder like always. I stay out of sight.
"You guys seen the latest heap?"
Kariya sighs and smiles condescendingly. "No, because it's not as it it almost reaches the skyline, or that if it was any bigger, it'd be in the RG."
"Naw man, it's jus' that big," the blonde insists. I weep for sharing the same color hair as him, and consider dying it. "There's a band tryin' to dismantle it, though; cuz they heard he buried their microphone in it or something. I wouldn't touch it though- Heaper called it his, uh..."
The freshmeat taps his chin. "His Magis Opening? Nah, that ain't right. Um... Magnet Oval?"
"Magnum Opus," 'Lollipop' fills in, dry as the desert.
"Yeah, that wuz it." Freshmeat nods sagely, like he's just seen someone lose in Reaper Sport Two. Watching someone's head explode into static before they slump and twitch and turn into a Noise is a sight to make almost anyone philosophical.
I feel rather certain this is the closest the boy's ever come to thoughts deeper than a pothole in a city road.
Feeling decidedly repressed, I roll my eyes and head back to the sewer. I'll catch up with Kariya later, if anything still needs doing.
(R+L+D)
The sun was had set, and was on the verge of rising anew. Far away from the ruins of his latest masterpiece, he strokes the black wings of his one true love.
"In a world that is nothing but garbage," he murmurs, in a voice so low nothing but the object of his affections can pick it up, "you are a masterpiece."
He wraps his arms around the slick body, thin as a rail and smooth as butter, and whispers again.
"Any man can love a woman. But only a genius, who sees true beauty, could love you."
And he cradles the microphone in his arms as the sun rises on the last day.
(R+L+D)
Treasure to Trash
(R+L+D)
Ba dum tish.