Goodbye to God.
Another Yu-Gi-Oh! fan fic with (guess what?) Quentin Tarantino-inspiration by Heavens to Bikini Kill -
This is Three.
-
Ha ha ha ha. Kaiba is a crack fiend. Kaiba is a crack fiend.
NO, I don't feel bad for making fun of him. HE'S the one who should be feeling guilty. How dare HE start using cocaine when he's got a little brother at home? Pssh. Asshole. Whatever. Not my problem. He buys, I only deliver.
"Delivering your enemy's demise, hm? Yeah, that's NOT cowardly at all." What? Who said that?
"Your conscience, stupid. You know that being a courier goes against every moral fiber in your body."
Shut up, you. You and I both know that I couldn't care less what happens to Kaiba.
"Why? Because he called you a dog a couple of times? Because he thinks he's a better duelist than you?"
Yeah, that's exactly it. He's a pompous ass. He's totally arrogant. And NOBODY likes him. And his voice is really annoying. [A/N: I love Kaiba as much as the next girl, but the voice actor for the English dubs really gets on my nerves. I hate the voice that they chose for English Kaiba.] Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to slip this envelope from my third delivery under this door.
"Really now. Is money really worth destroying someone altogether?"
Shut up, and bear in mind that I HATE KAIBA. I slipped the envelope underneath the door and turned to get the hell out of there. It seemed as though all apartment complexes in the K District just HAD to be run down and close to condemned. I heard a latch, and AK opened the door. "Katsuya. Nice job, once again. Please, come in." His smile caused my heart to freeze over. "It is time for your... pay." Let's examine the options. 1) Shout "Hell naw, you ain't gettin' in my pants!" and run away, and expect to be jumped the next day.
2) Concede, take my money, and walk out very quickly. (Not likely)
3) Concede, take my money, and ask to get out of this job. (What? That's STUPID. I need at least two months worth before I can move out)
4) Concede, pray that AK really doesn't want anything serious, wave hello to Kohta if he's there, take my money, come back, earn a bit more, and finally move out.
I think number four makes the most logical sense. AK can't be that perverted, right?
-
Ha ha ha ha. Isn't it funny when I'm wrong? I walked in tentatively, and noted that much like Kaiba's second apartment, this one was almost entirely bare, save for a table, a few chairs, some boxes, and a very big stack of assorted backpacks and saddlebags, all probably for delivery boys much like myself. (Kohta let me know that he and AK preferred recruiting high school boys, making deliveries much easier. Yeah, right. I believe that)
AK shut the door behind us, and my hand immediately flew protectively over my ass. (Don't roll your eyes, you know one can never be too cautious.) The room smelled of smoke, and I assumed that was what marijuana smelled like. (Don't call me naive, I don't use drugs, I wouldn't know what it smells like.) Sure enough, I spotted Kohta smoking a spliff, and AK snarled. "Eh, Kohta! Don't smoke the merchandise!"
Kohta snuffed out the joint, and he muttered something under his breath about fascism and freedom to smoke. He pulled out a pack of Parliaments (expensive foreign cigarettes) and walked to another room without saying another word. AK shook his head furiously and turned to me. "You want your pay, right?"
"Erm..." I tried to think of the right thing to say. "Yes, please."
He smiled terribly, and I thought I saw a predatory glint in his eye. Logic said that none of this was a very good idea, and I tried to make it clear that I could easily come back later, when he wasn't so... creepy. "You're going to have to work for your salary, my friend." I was two steps from the door when his hand shot out and pain coursed down my spine as he grabbed a handful of my hair. "I think I'll rather enjoy being your employer." I was completely frozen for about two seconds as he threw me up against the wall, not really processing what was happening. It wasn't until he tore a stitch in my school uniform that I realized that he was really acting upon his feelings. (But I'm not gay! I used to have a crush on Kujaku Mai! What was he THINKING)
Humans generally have two reactions to any sort of danger: fight or flight. It's in my nature to fight, and really, where was I going to run? I kicked and flailed furiously, as if my very life depended on it. Hell naw if I was going to let him touch me in that way. I heard AK growl in pure irritation, and his grip on me tightened dangerously as my shirt fell to the floor. Ugh. This was going to get ugly. God don't like ugly. I kicked harder and faster, nearly whacking his private area.
"I suppose," the asshole muttered, "that I'll have to find a way to neutralize your actions." What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
I soon found out.
I found myself devoid of the ability to breathe, and AK kept his lips locked with mine, his tongue constantly demanding entry. Hell naw if I give it to him. "Arrgh!" That son of a bitch bit my lower lip! Filthy asshole. (But I wonder... how was he supposed to breathe too? Maybe he was used to being a sadistic twat)
He took advantage of my state of shock and shoved the body's strongest muscle right to the back of my throat. (How he did it, I'll never know.) I gagged desperately, and my kicks declined in their fury, in need of more oxygen. My entire body went through a very slow shut down sequence, all too tired to do anything but crawl pathetically at AK's chest, which really only caused him to moan happily (at least, I think it was happiness) and squeeze closer to me. When he finally let go, I collapsed at the sudden lack of support. My body only really cared about getting as much oxygen as it could, and my mind was thinking remarkably homophobic thoughts.
AK smirked and laughed coldly, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thick wad of yen. He counted a few bills out and threw them upon my chest. "That was fun, pet."
I coughed. "I couldn't breathe..." I whispered angrily. "I couldn't breathe for almost three whole minutes..."
"Trust me, darling," AK replied, "it'll get worse, or rather, better. But all of my employees get used to it." He threw my jacket and shirt right next to my head and pointed to the door. "I left an address in your blazer's pocket. You will wait outside of that building tomorrow at seven thirty exactly."
Gods, this was a really bad idea.
[A/N: Auuuugh! What did I just DO?? It was too short AGAIN, AND I made my darling perverted AK some sort of a sadistic asshole! Please don't flame me for this terrible chapter. I'm just trying to build up the internal and external conflict between Kaiba and Jou. To be realistic, it'll have to take time. For now, AK owns Jou. Yes, Kaiba will eventually kick his ass. To make up for such an unfunny chapter, I shall now sing some Operation Ivy (Jesse Michaels is my GOD!): These boots were made for walkin', and that's just what they'll do! One of these days these boots are going to walk all over you! Walk all over you! (Sorry!)]
Another Yu-Gi-Oh! fan fic with (guess what?) Quentin Tarantino-inspiration by Heavens to Bikini Kill -
This is Three.
-
Ha ha ha ha. Kaiba is a crack fiend. Kaiba is a crack fiend.
NO, I don't feel bad for making fun of him. HE'S the one who should be feeling guilty. How dare HE start using cocaine when he's got a little brother at home? Pssh. Asshole. Whatever. Not my problem. He buys, I only deliver.
"Delivering your enemy's demise, hm? Yeah, that's NOT cowardly at all." What? Who said that?
"Your conscience, stupid. You know that being a courier goes against every moral fiber in your body."
Shut up, you. You and I both know that I couldn't care less what happens to Kaiba.
"Why? Because he called you a dog a couple of times? Because he thinks he's a better duelist than you?"
Yeah, that's exactly it. He's a pompous ass. He's totally arrogant. And NOBODY likes him. And his voice is really annoying. [A/N: I love Kaiba as much as the next girl, but the voice actor for the English dubs really gets on my nerves. I hate the voice that they chose for English Kaiba.] Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to slip this envelope from my third delivery under this door.
"Really now. Is money really worth destroying someone altogether?"
Shut up, and bear in mind that I HATE KAIBA. I slipped the envelope underneath the door and turned to get the hell out of there. It seemed as though all apartment complexes in the K District just HAD to be run down and close to condemned. I heard a latch, and AK opened the door. "Katsuya. Nice job, once again. Please, come in." His smile caused my heart to freeze over. "It is time for your... pay." Let's examine the options. 1) Shout "Hell naw, you ain't gettin' in my pants!" and run away, and expect to be jumped the next day.
2) Concede, take my money, and walk out very quickly. (Not likely)
3) Concede, take my money, and ask to get out of this job. (What? That's STUPID. I need at least two months worth before I can move out)
4) Concede, pray that AK really doesn't want anything serious, wave hello to Kohta if he's there, take my money, come back, earn a bit more, and finally move out.
I think number four makes the most logical sense. AK can't be that perverted, right?
-
Ha ha ha ha. Isn't it funny when I'm wrong? I walked in tentatively, and noted that much like Kaiba's second apartment, this one was almost entirely bare, save for a table, a few chairs, some boxes, and a very big stack of assorted backpacks and saddlebags, all probably for delivery boys much like myself. (Kohta let me know that he and AK preferred recruiting high school boys, making deliveries much easier. Yeah, right. I believe that)
AK shut the door behind us, and my hand immediately flew protectively over my ass. (Don't roll your eyes, you know one can never be too cautious.) The room smelled of smoke, and I assumed that was what marijuana smelled like. (Don't call me naive, I don't use drugs, I wouldn't know what it smells like.) Sure enough, I spotted Kohta smoking a spliff, and AK snarled. "Eh, Kohta! Don't smoke the merchandise!"
Kohta snuffed out the joint, and he muttered something under his breath about fascism and freedom to smoke. He pulled out a pack of Parliaments (expensive foreign cigarettes) and walked to another room without saying another word. AK shook his head furiously and turned to me. "You want your pay, right?"
"Erm..." I tried to think of the right thing to say. "Yes, please."
He smiled terribly, and I thought I saw a predatory glint in his eye. Logic said that none of this was a very good idea, and I tried to make it clear that I could easily come back later, when he wasn't so... creepy. "You're going to have to work for your salary, my friend." I was two steps from the door when his hand shot out and pain coursed down my spine as he grabbed a handful of my hair. "I think I'll rather enjoy being your employer." I was completely frozen for about two seconds as he threw me up against the wall, not really processing what was happening. It wasn't until he tore a stitch in my school uniform that I realized that he was really acting upon his feelings. (But I'm not gay! I used to have a crush on Kujaku Mai! What was he THINKING)
Humans generally have two reactions to any sort of danger: fight or flight. It's in my nature to fight, and really, where was I going to run? I kicked and flailed furiously, as if my very life depended on it. Hell naw if I was going to let him touch me in that way. I heard AK growl in pure irritation, and his grip on me tightened dangerously as my shirt fell to the floor. Ugh. This was going to get ugly. God don't like ugly. I kicked harder and faster, nearly whacking his private area.
"I suppose," the asshole muttered, "that I'll have to find a way to neutralize your actions." What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
I soon found out.
I found myself devoid of the ability to breathe, and AK kept his lips locked with mine, his tongue constantly demanding entry. Hell naw if I give it to him. "Arrgh!" That son of a bitch bit my lower lip! Filthy asshole. (But I wonder... how was he supposed to breathe too? Maybe he was used to being a sadistic twat)
He took advantage of my state of shock and shoved the body's strongest muscle right to the back of my throat. (How he did it, I'll never know.) I gagged desperately, and my kicks declined in their fury, in need of more oxygen. My entire body went through a very slow shut down sequence, all too tired to do anything but crawl pathetically at AK's chest, which really only caused him to moan happily (at least, I think it was happiness) and squeeze closer to me. When he finally let go, I collapsed at the sudden lack of support. My body only really cared about getting as much oxygen as it could, and my mind was thinking remarkably homophobic thoughts.
AK smirked and laughed coldly, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thick wad of yen. He counted a few bills out and threw them upon my chest. "That was fun, pet."
I coughed. "I couldn't breathe..." I whispered angrily. "I couldn't breathe for almost three whole minutes..."
"Trust me, darling," AK replied, "it'll get worse, or rather, better. But all of my employees get used to it." He threw my jacket and shirt right next to my head and pointed to the door. "I left an address in your blazer's pocket. You will wait outside of that building tomorrow at seven thirty exactly."
Gods, this was a really bad idea.
[A/N: Auuuugh! What did I just DO?? It was too short AGAIN, AND I made my darling perverted AK some sort of a sadistic asshole! Please don't flame me for this terrible chapter. I'm just trying to build up the internal and external conflict between Kaiba and Jou. To be realistic, it'll have to take time. For now, AK owns Jou. Yes, Kaiba will eventually kick his ass. To make up for such an unfunny chapter, I shall now sing some Operation Ivy (Jesse Michaels is my GOD!): These boots were made for walkin', and that's just what they'll do! One of these days these boots are going to walk all over you! Walk all over you! (Sorry!)]