[fic] The Things We Can't Control - Chapter 04 ~Apparently So~
Title: The Things We Can't Control
Author:
prettyorianna
Pairing: Akame. Others to be added later.
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: crime drama au
Beta by: my cat Gemma. okay, seriously, nobody
Disclaimer: I don't own KAT-TUN, any of its members, any other JE people. I write this for fun and for other fans of these fine folks. But don't steal my plots, mmkay? I put a great deal of time into them except for when I'm randomly spastically spitting words onto a page. But I value those too...
Summary: Two criminals with vastly different styles meet by chance one day. Can they work together or will they end up destroying each other?
Author's Note: More of the boy.
Warning: This gets graphic often occasionally, containing at the very least foul language, character death, nefarious crimes, rape, etc etc.
The Master Posts:
On my journal - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the akame_ Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the akame_fanfics Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the je_kamenashi Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the kattun_fanfics Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the jin_fics Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
Chapter 04 ~Apparently So~
His eyes were closed now and he was too scared to open them. If he opened them, everything was real. If he kept them closed, then maybe it wasn’t real. It… it could be a dream, right?
He shouldn’t be so afraid, right? What could this man do to him that he hadn’t done before with other customers time and time again? He told himself that over and over and over but no matter how many times he thought it, he couldn’t stop the tears and the trembling. He couldn’t make himself believe it.
Because if this was just like before, he wouldn’t be chained to the bed.
He flinched as he suddenly felt long, thin fingers gently caressing his cheek. “Open your eyes, boy. I want to see your fear.” The words were spoken so quietly, almost tenderly, but it was wrong. The voice was wrong. The boy couldn’t quite figure out how it was wrong exactly but every inch of him dreaded that smooth, even voice.
But he couldn’t open his eyes. If he opened his eyes and the man was still there, that meant he wasn’t dreaming. “I… I c-can’t…” he cried, barely above a whisper himself. “I c-can’t!”
“But you will, sooner or later,” the man replied, his voice completely calm still. “How much pain do you think it will take?”
This was just like before, he told himself. Just another customer. He’d take him once, twice, however many times and then he’d go. Just another customer…
The fingers left his face but he barely had time to register it before the man backhanded him twice. The boy cried out at the sudden sharp sting. “I…” the man said as he hit him again, “…asked you…” and then there were fingers in his hair, jerking his head painfully to the side and holding it there, and breath tickling his ear as the man whispered, “… a question.”
“If I open m-my eyes, will you take off the c-cuffs?” God, his chest was so tight. He couldn’t breathe… Not enough, anyway. Not nearly enough. So dizzy…
That voice in his ear again, “Yes.”
So the lad forced himself to open his eyes, to look up at the man now sitting on the bed next to him. The man released his hair and started to gently caress his cheek again, staring straight down into his eyes.
Those eyes… they weren’t like his father’s eyes. His father’s eyes were cruel. This man’s eyes, they were eager and yet still calm at the same time. But just like the man’s voice, they were all wrong. He couldn’t see anyone in those eyes, like there wasn’t a person behind them at all.
Oh, god, what kind of man had his father given him to?
“Y-you said you’d take them off!” the boy said when the man made no move to do so.
A soft smile, “And I will. Eventually. I never lie.”
The hand that caressed his face trailed down his throat to his chest, down further and further, brushing over crotch to his thigh before leaving his body entirely. The boy watched as the man carefully undressed, folding his clothes neatly and setting them on the dresser next to the box.
Somehow, the man’s unhurried pace was the scariest thing of all. It made everything feel inevitable, like there was nothing he could do to stop whatever was going to happen to him. Like he was completely helpless.
And wasn’t he?
The man sat down next to him on the bed again, humming in apparent appreciation of what he was seeing.
“What are you going to do to me?” the boy whispered as the man settled between his legs. “Will… will it hurt?”
“Immensely. I’m going to make you scream.” And the man pushed into him without any sort of preparation, taking him hard as he cried out in pain. The man hit him, slapped him across the face again and again. The boy was used to some pain but not like that.
But, bad as it was, it wasn’t the worst of it. With teeth and nails, the man marked him, gouging flesh, drawing blood.
He wasn’t supposed to do that! It was against the rules! His father said the men that took him, they weren’t allowed to mark him! “Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop! You’re not supposed to... STOP! PAPA! PAPA!” he screamed.
“Beautiful…” the man whispered again, though he didn’t stop; if anything, his treatment of the boy worsened. A bit louder he said, “You know he can’t hear you.”
No, no, that couldn’t be. The man was lying. He had to be! “PAPA! Why? Why can’t he hear me? PAPA? PAPA!”
Chuckling to himself, the man said, “He never told you the room is soundproofed?”
No! “You lie! You’re lying! Papa! PAPA!” he screamed as loudly as he could. He fought again the cuffs that bound him, pulling as hard as he could, trying to free himself, but all he managed to do was bloody his wrists.
“I told you I don’t lie…”
The boy begged, pleaded for the man to stop, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was like he was pleased with every scream he drew from the boy, taking him, hurting him, for what felt like hours and hours. By the end of it, the boy wasn’t able to say anything intelligible anymore. He could barely even scream anymore. His voice had almost completely left him.
But after an eternity, finally, the man did stop and dressed. By that time, all the boy could do was whimper softly.
Had… had it been three days?
Was it over?
The boy barely registered the knock on the bedroom door. But it wasn’t someone to save him; it was his father. “I have a late lunch ready downstairs, if you’re hungry,” his father said.
“Ah, thank you.”
Lunch? Only lunch? Oh, god… did he mean it was still the same day? Not only that, but it was only half-gone? “P..pa…pa…” he whimpered as the man in question walked over to him and - finally - unlocked the handcuffs.
Though eyes swollen half-shut the boy looked up at his father. He didn’t seem surprised or concerned in the slightest at the bruised and bloodied sight. “Clean yourself up while we’re gone.”
And both men walked out of the room. The door closed behind them and he just knew they’d locked it.
The boy tried to push himself up to sit but didn’t have the strength for it. His body didn’t want to move. Finally he managed to roll on his side and he thought maybe he could swing his legs around and manage to sit up that way. Only he ended up rolling off the bed instead, falling flat on his face, knocking the admittedly limited breath out of him.
Now on the ground, he rolled back on his side. There was the stuffed animal from his mother, right under the bed where he’d hidden it. It took a great deal of effort but he managed to finally reach it, pulling it out from under the bed and hugging it tightly, fairly curling his body around it.
He knew he was getting blood all over it, but he was beyond caring. He clutched it like it could somehow free him from his life, like it could take him away from all of… well, this.
But as the minutes passed, he started to worry that they would come back and find him holding it. He didn’t want his father to take it away, so he finally pushed it back under the bed.
He rolled to his other side, so he was facing the bathroom instead of the bed. It took a few tries, but he managed to pull himself up enough to crawl his way there, pushing the door closed behind him. Reaching up to lock the door, he leaned back against it.
He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, someone was pounding on the bathroom door. The knob jiggled a bit, followed by more pounding and the angry voice of his father.
But then the pounding stopped and that horrible calm voice said, “Leave this to me. I’ll pay for property damage in addition to what we agreed on.”
From his father, “You’re sure?”
“Yes. But do please lock the door behind you. I’d hate to have to chase him down through the house if he manages to get by me. Unlikely, but still…”
A pause…
“As you wish.”
Footsteps. The sound of the door. The loud click of the lock like an arrow through his chest…
Please, god, make the bathroom door like steel… Make it thick and unbreakable and make it keep the man out!
The whole door and frame shook. The man must have kicked it. The vibrations carried from the wood to his aching body and it was too much. He had to crawl away from it before the man kicked it again.
Another kick, harder. The boy crawled across the floor of the small bathroom, pressing himself into the space beneath the sink next to the toilet. He wrapped his arms around the pipe that went from the bottom of the sink into the wall, flinching every time the bathroom door and door frame shook with the might of another kick.
It was the fifth kick that broke the door open.
“No… no, no, please! Please, no more!” the boy pleaded, tightening his hold on the pipe as much as he could. “Please please please please please…” over and over and over, his back pressed tightly against the wall and the side of the toilet, his arms locked in a death grip around the pipe.
But the man grabbed him by the hair, pried his arms off the pipe, and dragged him out of the bathroom.
“Please! Please, let me… I can make you feel so good… please don’t hurt me! I can… No! NO! STOP! STOP! IYAAAAAA!” as the man threw him to the ground and started to kick him.
It was a dream. It had to be a dream. It just had to be. There were rules. Customers weren’t allowed to damage him like this. It would affect his value, his father had said to him once. Even when his father beat him before, he was careful. So this… this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t real.
This wasn’t real.
But it felt so real… God, it felt so real…
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
The story continues:
Chapter 05 ~The Friend~
A/N: Damn it, yet again LJ is messing with my ability to post. I made the cut and suddenly everything contained in it vanished. The same thing happened when I was posting the UP update, too. Well, I was able to get that one the second time so hopefully this is the last time I have to try to post this.
AS I said in the first a/n (the one swallowed into the oblivion by the LJ quirks), I hope this flows. I wrote it piecemeal since I don't want nightmares. Normally my writing doesn't influence my dreams but this one already has once and I don't have anyone to wake me up tonight if I do. I read over it when it was done and it does seem to me like it flows, with a bit of a hitch in the middle-ish, but I couldn't figure out how to smooth it out there so...
Anyway, next chapter back to Jin and Kame.
Okay, seventh time's the charm, apparently, but finally the making of the cut isn't deleting the contents of the cut.
Author:
prettyorianna
Pairing: Akame. Others to be added later.
Rating: NC-17.
Genre: crime drama au
Beta by: my cat Gemma. okay, seriously, nobody
Disclaimer: I don't own KAT-TUN, any of its members, any other JE people. I write this for fun and for other fans of these fine folks. But don't steal my plots, mmkay? I put a great deal of time into them except for when I'm randomly spastically spitting words onto a page. But I value those too...
Summary: Two criminals with vastly different styles meet by chance one day. Can they work together or will they end up destroying each other?
Author's Note: More of the boy.
Warning: This gets graphic often occasionally, containing at the very least foul language, character death, nefarious crimes, rape, etc etc.
The Master Posts:
On my journal - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the akame_ Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the akame_fanfics Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the je_kamenashi Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the kattun_fanfics Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
On the jin_fics Community - The Things We Can't Control Master Post
Chapter 04 ~Apparently So~
His eyes were closed now and he was too scared to open them. If he opened them, everything was real. If he kept them closed, then maybe it wasn’t real. It… it could be a dream, right?
He shouldn’t be so afraid, right? What could this man do to him that he hadn’t done before with other customers time and time again? He told himself that over and over and over but no matter how many times he thought it, he couldn’t stop the tears and the trembling. He couldn’t make himself believe it.
Because if this was just like before, he wouldn’t be chained to the bed.
He flinched as he suddenly felt long, thin fingers gently caressing his cheek. “Open your eyes, boy. I want to see your fear.” The words were spoken so quietly, almost tenderly, but it was wrong. The voice was wrong. The boy couldn’t quite figure out how it was wrong exactly but every inch of him dreaded that smooth, even voice.
But he couldn’t open his eyes. If he opened his eyes and the man was still there, that meant he wasn’t dreaming. “I… I c-can’t…” he cried, barely above a whisper himself. “I c-can’t!”
“But you will, sooner or later,” the man replied, his voice completely calm still. “How much pain do you think it will take?”
This was just like before, he told himself. Just another customer. He’d take him once, twice, however many times and then he’d go. Just another customer…
The fingers left his face but he barely had time to register it before the man backhanded him twice. The boy cried out at the sudden sharp sting. “I…” the man said as he hit him again, “…asked you…” and then there were fingers in his hair, jerking his head painfully to the side and holding it there, and breath tickling his ear as the man whispered, “… a question.”
“If I open m-my eyes, will you take off the c-cuffs?” God, his chest was so tight. He couldn’t breathe… Not enough, anyway. Not nearly enough. So dizzy…
That voice in his ear again, “Yes.”
So the lad forced himself to open his eyes, to look up at the man now sitting on the bed next to him. The man released his hair and started to gently caress his cheek again, staring straight down into his eyes.
Those eyes… they weren’t like his father’s eyes. His father’s eyes were cruel. This man’s eyes, they were eager and yet still calm at the same time. But just like the man’s voice, they were all wrong. He couldn’t see anyone in those eyes, like there wasn’t a person behind them at all.
Oh, god, what kind of man had his father given him to?
“Y-you said you’d take them off!” the boy said when the man made no move to do so.
A soft smile, “And I will. Eventually. I never lie.”
The hand that caressed his face trailed down his throat to his chest, down further and further, brushing over crotch to his thigh before leaving his body entirely. The boy watched as the man carefully undressed, folding his clothes neatly and setting them on the dresser next to the box.
Somehow, the man’s unhurried pace was the scariest thing of all. It made everything feel inevitable, like there was nothing he could do to stop whatever was going to happen to him. Like he was completely helpless.
And wasn’t he?
The man sat down next to him on the bed again, humming in apparent appreciation of what he was seeing.
“What are you going to do to me?” the boy whispered as the man settled between his legs. “Will… will it hurt?”
“Immensely. I’m going to make you scream.” And the man pushed into him without any sort of preparation, taking him hard as he cried out in pain. The man hit him, slapped him across the face again and again. The boy was used to some pain but not like that.
But, bad as it was, it wasn’t the worst of it. With teeth and nails, the man marked him, gouging flesh, drawing blood.
He wasn’t supposed to do that! It was against the rules! His father said the men that took him, they weren’t allowed to mark him! “Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop! You’re not supposed to... STOP! PAPA! PAPA!” he screamed.
“Beautiful…” the man whispered again, though he didn’t stop; if anything, his treatment of the boy worsened. A bit louder he said, “You know he can’t hear you.”
No, no, that couldn’t be. The man was lying. He had to be! “PAPA! Why? Why can’t he hear me? PAPA? PAPA!”
Chuckling to himself, the man said, “He never told you the room is soundproofed?”
No! “You lie! You’re lying! Papa! PAPA!” he screamed as loudly as he could. He fought again the cuffs that bound him, pulling as hard as he could, trying to free himself, but all he managed to do was bloody his wrists.
“I told you I don’t lie…”
The boy begged, pleaded for the man to stop, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was like he was pleased with every scream he drew from the boy, taking him, hurting him, for what felt like hours and hours. By the end of it, the boy wasn’t able to say anything intelligible anymore. He could barely even scream anymore. His voice had almost completely left him.
But after an eternity, finally, the man did stop and dressed. By that time, all the boy could do was whimper softly.
Had… had it been three days?
Was it over?
The boy barely registered the knock on the bedroom door. But it wasn’t someone to save him; it was his father. “I have a late lunch ready downstairs, if you’re hungry,” his father said.
“Ah, thank you.”
Lunch? Only lunch? Oh, god… did he mean it was still the same day? Not only that, but it was only half-gone? “P..pa…pa…” he whimpered as the man in question walked over to him and - finally - unlocked the handcuffs.
Though eyes swollen half-shut the boy looked up at his father. He didn’t seem surprised or concerned in the slightest at the bruised and bloodied sight. “Clean yourself up while we’re gone.”
And both men walked out of the room. The door closed behind them and he just knew they’d locked it.
The boy tried to push himself up to sit but didn’t have the strength for it. His body didn’t want to move. Finally he managed to roll on his side and he thought maybe he could swing his legs around and manage to sit up that way. Only he ended up rolling off the bed instead, falling flat on his face, knocking the admittedly limited breath out of him.
Now on the ground, he rolled back on his side. There was the stuffed animal from his mother, right under the bed where he’d hidden it. It took a great deal of effort but he managed to finally reach it, pulling it out from under the bed and hugging it tightly, fairly curling his body around it.
He knew he was getting blood all over it, but he was beyond caring. He clutched it like it could somehow free him from his life, like it could take him away from all of… well, this.
But as the minutes passed, he started to worry that they would come back and find him holding it. He didn’t want his father to take it away, so he finally pushed it back under the bed.
He rolled to his other side, so he was facing the bathroom instead of the bed. It took a few tries, but he managed to pull himself up enough to crawl his way there, pushing the door closed behind him. Reaching up to lock the door, he leaned back against it.
He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, someone was pounding on the bathroom door. The knob jiggled a bit, followed by more pounding and the angry voice of his father.
But then the pounding stopped and that horrible calm voice said, “Leave this to me. I’ll pay for property damage in addition to what we agreed on.”
From his father, “You’re sure?”
“Yes. But do please lock the door behind you. I’d hate to have to chase him down through the house if he manages to get by me. Unlikely, but still…”
A pause…
“As you wish.”
Footsteps. The sound of the door. The loud click of the lock like an arrow through his chest…
Please, god, make the bathroom door like steel… Make it thick and unbreakable and make it keep the man out!
The whole door and frame shook. The man must have kicked it. The vibrations carried from the wood to his aching body and it was too much. He had to crawl away from it before the man kicked it again.
Another kick, harder. The boy crawled across the floor of the small bathroom, pressing himself into the space beneath the sink next to the toilet. He wrapped his arms around the pipe that went from the bottom of the sink into the wall, flinching every time the bathroom door and door frame shook with the might of another kick.
It was the fifth kick that broke the door open.
“No… no, no, please! Please, no more!” the boy pleaded, tightening his hold on the pipe as much as he could. “Please please please please please…” over and over and over, his back pressed tightly against the wall and the side of the toilet, his arms locked in a death grip around the pipe.
But the man grabbed him by the hair, pried his arms off the pipe, and dragged him out of the bathroom.
“Please! Please, let me… I can make you feel so good… please don’t hurt me! I can… No! NO! STOP! STOP! IYAAAAAA!” as the man threw him to the ground and started to kick him.
It was a dream. It had to be a dream. It just had to be. There were rules. Customers weren’t allowed to damage him like this. It would affect his value, his father had said to him once. Even when his father beat him before, he was careful. So this… this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t real.
This wasn’t real.
But it felt so real… God, it felt so real…
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
The story continues:
Chapter 05 ~The Friend~
A/N: Damn it, yet again LJ is messing with my ability to post. I made the cut and suddenly everything contained in it vanished. The same thing happened when I was posting the UP update, too. Well, I was able to get that one the second time so hopefully this is the last time I have to try to post this.
AS I said in the first a/n (the one swallowed into the oblivion by the LJ quirks), I hope this flows. I wrote it piecemeal since I don't want nightmares. Normally my writing doesn't influence my dreams but this one already has once and I don't have anyone to wake me up tonight if I do. I read over it when it was done and it does seem to me like it flows, with a bit of a hitch in the middle-ish, but I couldn't figure out how to smooth it out there so...
Anyway, next chapter back to Jin and Kame.
Okay, seventh time's the charm, apparently, but finally the making of the cut isn't deleting the contents of the cut.