log: mukuro and chrome
characters: Mukuro and Chrome
rating: I'll call it R but more for the words than the actions, srsly.
summary: Cuddling and talking about mutilating people. And then Mukuro gets some. lol?
Mukuro wavered between responding to to Sawada Tsunayoshi's comment and deciding not to bother, as he knew the status of his innocence. Though the fight with Azula had been fair, and there was no need to bring him in as a result, the aftermath a mere day later had not been something he was expecting. His foresight failed him in this circumstance. There was a part of him that wished to tear into the office of Yagami Raito, trident in hand, without anything stopping him from slicing the man open and tearing him apart. It would be so easy, and imagining the blood spilling over his prized weapon was almost enough for him. Almost, until he looked at Chrome resting on the bed. He couldn't leave her, not yet--her gift with the ring had worked quite well the night before, but she was still injured. When it came to letting her to go to the hospital, he called her back, knowing that it would not benefit either of them. They would take advantage of her presence--and her connection to him. Mukuro would never let her become a casualty for his own bloodlust.
So he mulled. It was unlike Mukuro to put off this need inside of him, but he needed to for the sake of Chrome. He rested beside her on her bed, lacing his fingers within hers, and he focused his gaze on the wall. It would likely not be long until he lost his control again, but he knew he needed to avoid it to the best of his ability. Even if he usually didn't mind, this was a different word. Mukuro would have to find a new way to release his frustrations.
"It would be best if you opened your eyes, my Chrome," he murmured as the artificial sunlight started to dull outside, leaving them in a mostly darkened room. "A new day will be coming tomorrow, and I may need to leave you again." He doubted it would be long. All their psychics would find that he did not do this, and he would return, but they would try their best to hold him.
Perhaps what he hated most was that he did not do this, he thought with a resigned feeling. Mukuro was not someone who took well to being blamed for another's actions, when he could easily perform his own indiscretions. His lips curled into a pleasant smile as he looked down at Chrome.
Chrome had no complaints about staying out of the hospital. She had spent more than enough of her life in hospitals already, and half the time it had done her no good, brought her nothing but some of her more unpleasant memories. The hospital in Babylon had been better than the ones in her own world, to be fair, but all things considered, she was perfectly content to avoid the place altogether.
And her own bed was much more comfortable, anyway. Even before taking present company into account.
He was there every time she woke up, these days, but the sense of relief she felt from it never changed. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Good mor...." Her gaze went to the window. Maybe not morning, then. "...evening, Mukuro-sama?"
"Evening," he affirmed with a nod. His fingers twisted slightly within hers so he could hold her hand more tightly. Mukuro thought about slipping inside of her, letting this occur inside of her head, but it wouldn't be real and physical--something he grew to enjoy in her presence. It was interesting how much she enraptured him; she was unlike the others under the dome and in his life. Though there were those that could handle the illusions just as well, but she intrigued him. With her innocent demeanor and moralistic way of looking at the world, she was so different--so interestingly untainted by his way of life, even if her life, in many ways, had meshed with his life.
"You understand that they will want to blame me for yesterday," he murmured, brushing his thumb over her hand. "And you know who is at fault for this, don't you? You need not say the name, but nod, my Chrome, because if I am incapable of guessing his actions again, you may need to be a little more blunt with Sawada Tsunayoshi next time for how he must direct the Vongola." He may need to kill him next time. His words were barely above a whisper, but it didn't matter; she would hear every word, he was sure. She hung on ever word, just as he hung on her existence.
She nodded. "I understand."
It made sense that they'd try to blame things on him, but he hadn't done it, and once that was proven, surely they couldn't do much to him, no matter how much they wanted to, couldn't they? She didn't bother asking the question, since she was sure enough of the answer already. They'd try, and they'd fail, wouldn't they?
She used her free hand to push herself into sitting upright, biting her lip when it sent a wave of pain shooting through her side. She'd certainly been in worse condition before, but it'd be a bit longer before she stopped feeling the effects of yesterday, evidently.
When she sat up, he finally released her hand and shifted closer, drifting an arm around her and resting his chin on her head. It was affectionate, something that Mukuro would afford to no one else, but she was someone who deserved, needed, such affections. It was something her family had not given her, and she was never shown the truth behind this kind of care--it was something that had created him, but even more, it was something that he never wanted her to be. She was similar but different, the very antithesis of him in almost every way but where it really mattered.
Mukuro's fingers drifted down her arm and he started picturing the mutilation of Yagami Raito in his mind again. It would be so easy, he reminded himself. So easy to destroy the man who had less power than he seemed to imagine. "I would rip out his eyes first," Mukuro began. "Every bit of blood would be allowed to cover my hands, my arms, and I would use my bloodsoaked hands to tear him apart." There was a certain joy in his voice, and as it filled his throat and warmed it, his tone picked up and he spoke more loudly. "Each piece of him, and it would kill him slowly because he could not see. He is a man who likes to see, Chrome, and believes he will gain some understanding from it. He believes he will understand, but he is so simplistic and stuck on his false morals that he cannot understand the true joy of killing someone." His fingers stopped then, and he thought about showing her, but it would be unkind, and stopped himself. He would need to grab hold of the ring, because his trident was across the room.
"Or I could make him watch it, make him feel it, because he believes he is an illusion, but I would show him the true meaning of illusions, and how within the truth hides a lie, and within a lie hides a truth, but he is no truth. He is no illusion, merely a piece of meat that I would rip apart." He gripped her arm at the end of that, his breathing somewhat hitched as he thought of the maiming in perfect clarity in his mind. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, the contented smile returning seconds after.
Chrome leaned against him, closing her eyes. There was no sign that anything he said might bother her -- it was something she'd long ago grown used to, and learned to accept about him, even if it wasn't something she understood or ever thought she would understand.
She still took comfort in his voice, if not his words.
A part of him wished he could do it through her, to surprise the man, but he knew he could never take advantage of her in the same way again. Sometmes he would see through her in other circumstances, but seeing her through this would only implicate her. It would be a single death on her hands, but he did not think that way when it came to her--or if he did, the thought was fleeting, glossed over and replaced with other concepts and ideas that would fill his mind.
"We will always be different, Chrome," he murmured, knowing that she only paid attention to the sound of his voice and not the words. "But if I had not come, I wonder if that would be the same, if you had become Nagi--but you will never be that again." It was not a promise, but a reminder of his involvement in her life. Even here, when she did not need him, he involved her. He never asked if she wanted anything else, because he knew that to not be the case. Where he ended, she began, and even if they were different, it would not matter. There were no lies with them, only truths, no illusions, only facts, but with them, the illusions became factual as they meshed into one.
Maybe she'd have been different. More likely, she thought, she'd have simply been dead. She'd never harbored any delusions about the value her own family placed on her life -- it was impossible to, after hearing her mother's cold tone and angry words at the mere suggestion of becoming an organ donor to save her.
She owed him her life in more than one sense.
"I like this better," she said quietly. She didn't know how she might've turned out if she had remained Nagi, if she'd somehow lived through the accident without him. But Nagi was as good as dead now.
"It would seem that I prefer it, as well," Mukuro murmured into her hair before he pulled back and slid with languid movements to rest before her. His long and thin fingers slid around her waist to tug her forward--carefully, so as not to bring any pain coursing through her. He knew it was impossible to completely avoid it right now. But he needed to be close to her right now, especially with those fresh thoughts of bloodplay still lingering in his mind.
"This is a world where they may try to separate us at any moment, Chrome," he said after resting her on her back. Mukuro's fingers sprawled over her stomach, teasing up a piece of the shirt he picked out for her several weeks prior. The feeling of her flesh beneath his skin seemed to fascinate him, as if he hadn't seen another girl like that. He was experienced, to say the least, but there were few that interested him enough in the muddled world to make him care--and remember.
"And if that happens, you are much stronger than I imagine they would expect." Mukuro's hand slid higher while he spoke, as if he was narrating this for no reason but to offer something in the silence between them.
Chrome didn't have anything to say to that; the words caught in her throat and then she couldn't focus enough to remember what she was going to say, not with the feeling of his hand on her skin to distract her.
It was something she normally tried not to think about much, and most of the time, she was at least marginally successful -- but this was something different from when they just held hands, and not to say that she didn't like that, but she liked this, and it was hard not to think about that when it was happening right this minute.
Mukuro rested over her then, a single hand pressed against her torso, and his mouth lingering just above her nose. He kissed it in a gesture that was far too affectionate before he lowered his face, his mouth hovering just above hers. "While I cannot imagine you will be anything like me, I imagine you will be tempted. It is then that you will decide what to do with the illusions, and there will be a time in which your illusions are guided with an absence of my voice in your head." His lips were just barely above hers, and every sound sent a different wisp of breath against her mouth. "But we need not worry for that day here; we need not worry for now." His fingers brushed down beneath the waistline of her pajama pants.
"As I believe I may not be leaving your side for a while, my Chrome." He lifted his body up, slightly, as his hand pulled out and untied her pajama pants. "Even as I thirst for the warmth of blood against my hands, I will remain here for the time being. It will be a new challenge, especially in a world so ugly as this." It was not a promise, because he made no promises, but she would understand. Mukuro was certain she would understand, for he always was careless with the length of his life so long as others survived, but a part of him wished to be there for her. That might change, there was always that possibility, but he preferred the way things were at the moment.
She did understand. And she might have told him so, but the touch of his fingers near her waistline was intoxicating and she didn't trust herself to speak.
It was hard to think about what he was saying and not what he was doing, but she was sure it was as close to a promise as she'd ever hear him come, and that was more than enough for her.
There was no idea of right or wrong in his head, only a likeness that they shared. Their right and wrong would always be separate, but there was this. Mukuro started tugging down her pajama pants before he leaned his slim form against her, lips pressing against hers and tongue trailing into her mouth. I will take care of you, my little Chrome. The words resounded in her mind as he pressed firmly against her, announcing his personal desire. He slid his other hand through her hair, pushing her head up to meet his mouth.
There was nothing wrong in this, only the fact that it was only this world that would allow it. Mukuro was never grateful for anything, but the thought entered his mind with a bit of resignment as his tongue slid deeper into her mouth.
rating: I'll call it R but more for the words than the actions, srsly.
summary: Cuddling and talking about mutilating people. And then Mukuro gets some. lol?
Mukuro wavered between responding to to Sawada Tsunayoshi's comment and deciding not to bother, as he knew the status of his innocence. Though the fight with Azula had been fair, and there was no need to bring him in as a result, the aftermath a mere day later had not been something he was expecting. His foresight failed him in this circumstance. There was a part of him that wished to tear into the office of Yagami Raito, trident in hand, without anything stopping him from slicing the man open and tearing him apart. It would be so easy, and imagining the blood spilling over his prized weapon was almost enough for him. Almost, until he looked at Chrome resting on the bed. He couldn't leave her, not yet--her gift with the ring had worked quite well the night before, but she was still injured. When it came to letting her to go to the hospital, he called her back, knowing that it would not benefit either of them. They would take advantage of her presence--and her connection to him. Mukuro would never let her become a casualty for his own bloodlust.
So he mulled. It was unlike Mukuro to put off this need inside of him, but he needed to for the sake of Chrome. He rested beside her on her bed, lacing his fingers within hers, and he focused his gaze on the wall. It would likely not be long until he lost his control again, but he knew he needed to avoid it to the best of his ability. Even if he usually didn't mind, this was a different word. Mukuro would have to find a new way to release his frustrations.
"It would be best if you opened your eyes, my Chrome," he murmured as the artificial sunlight started to dull outside, leaving them in a mostly darkened room. "A new day will be coming tomorrow, and I may need to leave you again." He doubted it would be long. All their psychics would find that he did not do this, and he would return, but they would try their best to hold him.
Perhaps what he hated most was that he did not do this, he thought with a resigned feeling. Mukuro was not someone who took well to being blamed for another's actions, when he could easily perform his own indiscretions. His lips curled into a pleasant smile as he looked down at Chrome.
Chrome had no complaints about staying out of the hospital. She had spent more than enough of her life in hospitals already, and half the time it had done her no good, brought her nothing but some of her more unpleasant memories. The hospital in Babylon had been better than the ones in her own world, to be fair, but all things considered, she was perfectly content to avoid the place altogether.
And her own bed was much more comfortable, anyway. Even before taking present company into account.
He was there every time she woke up, these days, but the sense of relief she felt from it never changed. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Good mor...." Her gaze went to the window. Maybe not morning, then. "...evening, Mukuro-sama?"
"Evening," he affirmed with a nod. His fingers twisted slightly within hers so he could hold her hand more tightly. Mukuro thought about slipping inside of her, letting this occur inside of her head, but it wouldn't be real and physical--something he grew to enjoy in her presence. It was interesting how much she enraptured him; she was unlike the others under the dome and in his life. Though there were those that could handle the illusions just as well, but she intrigued him. With her innocent demeanor and moralistic way of looking at the world, she was so different--so interestingly untainted by his way of life, even if her life, in many ways, had meshed with his life.
"You understand that they will want to blame me for yesterday," he murmured, brushing his thumb over her hand. "And you know who is at fault for this, don't you? You need not say the name, but nod, my Chrome, because if I am incapable of guessing his actions again, you may need to be a little more blunt with Sawada Tsunayoshi next time for how he must direct the Vongola." He may need to kill him next time. His words were barely above a whisper, but it didn't matter; she would hear every word, he was sure. She hung on ever word, just as he hung on her existence.
She nodded. "I understand."
It made sense that they'd try to blame things on him, but he hadn't done it, and once that was proven, surely they couldn't do much to him, no matter how much they wanted to, couldn't they? She didn't bother asking the question, since she was sure enough of the answer already. They'd try, and they'd fail, wouldn't they?
She used her free hand to push herself into sitting upright, biting her lip when it sent a wave of pain shooting through her side. She'd certainly been in worse condition before, but it'd be a bit longer before she stopped feeling the effects of yesterday, evidently.
When she sat up, he finally released her hand and shifted closer, drifting an arm around her and resting his chin on her head. It was affectionate, something that Mukuro would afford to no one else, but she was someone who deserved, needed, such affections. It was something her family had not given her, and she was never shown the truth behind this kind of care--it was something that had created him, but even more, it was something that he never wanted her to be. She was similar but different, the very antithesis of him in almost every way but where it really mattered.
Mukuro's fingers drifted down her arm and he started picturing the mutilation of Yagami Raito in his mind again. It would be so easy, he reminded himself. So easy to destroy the man who had less power than he seemed to imagine. "I would rip out his eyes first," Mukuro began. "Every bit of blood would be allowed to cover my hands, my arms, and I would use my bloodsoaked hands to tear him apart." There was a certain joy in his voice, and as it filled his throat and warmed it, his tone picked up and he spoke more loudly. "Each piece of him, and it would kill him slowly because he could not see. He is a man who likes to see, Chrome, and believes he will gain some understanding from it. He believes he will understand, but he is so simplistic and stuck on his false morals that he cannot understand the true joy of killing someone." His fingers stopped then, and he thought about showing her, but it would be unkind, and stopped himself. He would need to grab hold of the ring, because his trident was across the room.
"Or I could make him watch it, make him feel it, because he believes he is an illusion, but I would show him the true meaning of illusions, and how within the truth hides a lie, and within a lie hides a truth, but he is no truth. He is no illusion, merely a piece of meat that I would rip apart." He gripped her arm at the end of that, his breathing somewhat hitched as he thought of the maiming in perfect clarity in his mind. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, the contented smile returning seconds after.
Chrome leaned against him, closing her eyes. There was no sign that anything he said might bother her -- it was something she'd long ago grown used to, and learned to accept about him, even if it wasn't something she understood or ever thought she would understand.
She still took comfort in his voice, if not his words.
A part of him wished he could do it through her, to surprise the man, but he knew he could never take advantage of her in the same way again. Sometmes he would see through her in other circumstances, but seeing her through this would only implicate her. It would be a single death on her hands, but he did not think that way when it came to her--or if he did, the thought was fleeting, glossed over and replaced with other concepts and ideas that would fill his mind.
"We will always be different, Chrome," he murmured, knowing that she only paid attention to the sound of his voice and not the words. "But if I had not come, I wonder if that would be the same, if you had become Nagi--but you will never be that again." It was not a promise, but a reminder of his involvement in her life. Even here, when she did not need him, he involved her. He never asked if she wanted anything else, because he knew that to not be the case. Where he ended, she began, and even if they were different, it would not matter. There were no lies with them, only truths, no illusions, only facts, but with them, the illusions became factual as they meshed into one.
Maybe she'd have been different. More likely, she thought, she'd have simply been dead. She'd never harbored any delusions about the value her own family placed on her life -- it was impossible to, after hearing her mother's cold tone and angry words at the mere suggestion of becoming an organ donor to save her.
She owed him her life in more than one sense.
"I like this better," she said quietly. She didn't know how she might've turned out if she had remained Nagi, if she'd somehow lived through the accident without him. But Nagi was as good as dead now.
"It would seem that I prefer it, as well," Mukuro murmured into her hair before he pulled back and slid with languid movements to rest before her. His long and thin fingers slid around her waist to tug her forward--carefully, so as not to bring any pain coursing through her. He knew it was impossible to completely avoid it right now. But he needed to be close to her right now, especially with those fresh thoughts of bloodplay still lingering in his mind.
"This is a world where they may try to separate us at any moment, Chrome," he said after resting her on her back. Mukuro's fingers sprawled over her stomach, teasing up a piece of the shirt he picked out for her several weeks prior. The feeling of her flesh beneath his skin seemed to fascinate him, as if he hadn't seen another girl like that. He was experienced, to say the least, but there were few that interested him enough in the muddled world to make him care--and remember.
"And if that happens, you are much stronger than I imagine they would expect." Mukuro's hand slid higher while he spoke, as if he was narrating this for no reason but to offer something in the silence between them.
Chrome didn't have anything to say to that; the words caught in her throat and then she couldn't focus enough to remember what she was going to say, not with the feeling of his hand on her skin to distract her.
It was something she normally tried not to think about much, and most of the time, she was at least marginally successful -- but this was something different from when they just held hands, and not to say that she didn't like that, but she liked this, and it was hard not to think about that when it was happening right this minute.
Mukuro rested over her then, a single hand pressed against her torso, and his mouth lingering just above her nose. He kissed it in a gesture that was far too affectionate before he lowered his face, his mouth hovering just above hers. "While I cannot imagine you will be anything like me, I imagine you will be tempted. It is then that you will decide what to do with the illusions, and there will be a time in which your illusions are guided with an absence of my voice in your head." His lips were just barely above hers, and every sound sent a different wisp of breath against her mouth. "But we need not worry for that day here; we need not worry for now." His fingers brushed down beneath the waistline of her pajama pants.
"As I believe I may not be leaving your side for a while, my Chrome." He lifted his body up, slightly, as his hand pulled out and untied her pajama pants. "Even as I thirst for the warmth of blood against my hands, I will remain here for the time being. It will be a new challenge, especially in a world so ugly as this." It was not a promise, because he made no promises, but she would understand. Mukuro was certain she would understand, for he always was careless with the length of his life so long as others survived, but a part of him wished to be there for her. That might change, there was always that possibility, but he preferred the way things were at the moment.
She did understand. And she might have told him so, but the touch of his fingers near her waistline was intoxicating and she didn't trust herself to speak.
It was hard to think about what he was saying and not what he was doing, but she was sure it was as close to a promise as she'd ever hear him come, and that was more than enough for her.
There was no idea of right or wrong in his head, only a likeness that they shared. Their right and wrong would always be separate, but there was this. Mukuro started tugging down her pajama pants before he leaned his slim form against her, lips pressing against hers and tongue trailing into her mouth. I will take care of you, my little Chrome. The words resounded in her mind as he pressed firmly against her, announcing his personal desire. He slid his other hand through her hair, pushing her head up to meet his mouth.
There was nothing wrong in this, only the fact that it was only this world that would allow it. Mukuro was never grateful for anything, but the thought entered his mind with a bit of resignment as his tongue slid deeper into her mouth.